The next morning, it was still raining. It had been sunny for several days, and it seemed as though this rain was here to make up for all those dry days.
Meng Huaize sat under the veranda, his elbows resting on his knees, cupping his chin as he gazed at the muddy courtyard. The branches and leaves of the crabapple tree had been knocked down by the rain, scattered chaotically by the wind across half the courtyard. The remaining leaves on the tree, however, had been washed clean and shone a fresh, vibrant green. Many of the flowers and plants along the courtyard walls had been blown askew. Now that the rain had lightened, they merely swayed gently, veiled in a misty green hue.
As Meng Huaize watched, his gaze gradually shifted upwards, settling on the distant Chuanki Mountain.
Amidst the dense rain, Chuanki Mountain stood tall and steep, its multiple peaks forming dark blue-black outlines, surrounded by mist that enveloped the area in a shroud of mystery.
Xue Zhao, worried about his flowers, dashed out into the rain, stepping in the mud to check on them. After confirming that the flower branches were still standing gracefully amidst the downpour, he raised one paw to shield the few sparse hairs on his head and quickly scurried back under the veranda.
After his little trip outside, Xue Zhao was drenched and his paws were covered in mud.
Meng Huaize, who had been lost in thought, staring at Chuanki Mountain, only snapped out of it after a long while. He handed a dry cloth to Xue Zhao, then resumed his troubled contemplation of the distant mountains.
“What do you think,” Meng Huaize asked, “where could that big spirit be now?”
Xue Zhao shook his head while wiping the mud off his paws.
“If that big spirit really is waking up,” Meng Huaize continued, “it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s evil, right?”
A mocking laugh came from nearby. Meng Huaize turned his head to look at Wu Yue, who was standing nearby.
“You think that spirit is so kind?” Wu Yue said. “Do you think he would let all the gathered spiritual energy pass him by, leaving some for other spirits? He’s been feeding on it, preparing it as his food for when he wakes.”
Meng Huaize couldn’t help but shudder. He mumbled, “You make it sound so terrifying…”
“If my guess is right,” Wu Yue added, “he’s probably been injured. He might not have fully recovered yet, but he was prematurely disturbed and woke up. Otherwise, the little spirits wouldn’t have sensed the killing intent in his spiritual aura.”
Xue Zhao was listening in a daze, his voice filled with fear. “What do we do?”
Wu Yue raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms in front of his chest, a smug look on his face as he waited for the pair to ask for his help.
But instead, Meng Huaize remained silent, turning back to continue brooding over Chuanki Mountain. Xue Zhao, after a moment of hesitation, lay down beside him, joining him in gazing at the mountain in worry.
Huh? Wu Yue’s smug expression faltered. What about me? I’m right here, can’t you see me?
Meng Huaize and Xue Zhao continued staring at Chuanki Mountain, their heads clouded with worry, while Wu Yue sat on the railing, glaring at them in frustration. Visit novelping.com for the full chapter.
After waiting for a while with no one coming to ask for his help, Wu Yue grew irritated and deliberately cleared his throat.
Only then did Meng Huaize and Xue Zhao turn to look at him.
Wu Yue snorted. “You’ve been staring at Chuanki Mountain for so long. Come up with any solutions yet?”
Xue Zhao shook his head, and the furrow between Meng Huaize’s brows deepened.
Satisfied, Wu Yue smiled with a proud, defiant air. He jumped down from the railing, the hem of his black robe swirling through the air with his movement before settling obediently by his side, swaying slightly.
He looked out at the distant, rain-shrouded silhouette of the mountain and said nonchalantly, “I can kill him.”
Xue Zhao’s droopy ears instantly perked up, his slitted eyes widening in excitement. “Really?”
Although he had long known that Wu Yue was an incredibly powerful spirit, Xue Zhao, being just a small spirit, never dared to ask him for help. Now, hearing Wu Yue say he could kill the spirit, Xue Zhao was so overjoyed he could hardly contain his excitement.
Xue Zhao’s reaction greatly satisfied Wu Yue’s ego. He glanced sideways at Meng Huaize, only to see the initial flash of joy on Meng Huaize’s face fade as he lowered his gaze, the smile on his lips disappearing as if he had remembered something.
Wu Yue walked over to Meng Huaize and smacked the side of his head. “I’ll help you kill that spirit but for one condition.
Meng Huaize looked up at him. “What condition?”
As he raised his head, Meng Huaize’s face brushed against Wu Yue’s palm, causing a slight tickling sensation. Wu Yue, never one to deny himself any indulgence, acted on impulse and rubbed Meng Huaize’s face playfully.
Meng Huaize’s face flushed slightly, and he angrily reached out to grab Wu Yue’s misbehaving hand.
But Wu Yue pulled his hand back first, crossing behind him as he walked toward the room. Over his shoulder, he casually tossed out, “Make me another chicken stew.”
Meng Huaize glared at his retreating back and muttered through gritted teeth, “Glutton.”
Still, his hand couldn’t help but touch the spot where Wu Yue’s palm had lingered moments before. The warmth remained. He looked at the door, a complicated expression in his eyes.
Xue Zhao twirled around in delight for a few circles before noticing that something was off with Meng Huaize. He asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
Meng Huaize lowered his hand and shook his head. Xue Zhao, still tilting his head in curiosity, stared at him. Meng Huaize eventually smiled and quietly said, “It’s nothing, I’m just a little worried…”
“No need to worry! He’s really powerful!” Xue Zhao said with admiration. “I’ve never seen such a powerful spirit before!”
Xue Zhao added, “There are many spirits on Bianxi Mountain too. My father and mother are both strong, but they’re not as strong as him—I can tell.”
“Bianxi Mountain?” Meng Huaize asked, “Aren’t you a spirit from Chuanki Mountain?”
Xue Zhao shook his head. “No, I snuck into the human realm. My parents don’t know.”
“Aren’t your parents worried about you?” Meng Huaize asked.
Xue Zhao thought for a moment, then said, “Probably not. I’ve only been gone for a short time, and I’ll be going back soon. They might not have even noticed I’ve snuck away.”
Meng Huaize was amused by his response. Having never known his parents since childhood, he had always envied others when they talked about their parents.
He casually asked, “So, how long have you been at Chuanki Mountain?”
Xue Zhao counted on his skinny claws for a long while before saying, “The peach blossoms have bloomed five times on the mountain.”
“Five years!” Meng Huaize exclaimed in surprise. “And you still call that ‘not long’?”
“Not long at all.” Xue Zhao was confused by his reaction, then happily added, “The first place I arrived in the human realm was Chuanki Mountain. There are so many flowers and plants here, unlike anything we have on Bianxi Mountain.”
He squatted down, stretched a paw toward his belly, and unexpectedly plunged it inside. Meng Huaize was startled, but then he realized the little spirit had a pouch-like fold on his stomach. Xue Zhao rummaged around for a bit, and when he withdrew his paw, he held a bouquet of vibrant, colorful flowers in his skinny claws. They were lush and radiant, as if still blooming on the branch.
Xue Zhao emptied all the flowers from his pouch, spreading them across the entire veranda. Each one was different, yet all were exceptionally vibrant and beautiful. Some of the flowers were familiar to Meng Huaize, as they grew in his courtyard, while others were ones he had never seen before.
“These are stunning,” Meng Huaize marveled, gently touching a delicate blue ginseng flower. Its pale blue petals were fragile and tiny, but it was perfectly preserved, showing no signs of damage or wilting. “How did you keep them like this?”
Xue Zhao puffed up with pride. “I have spirit power, of course.”
He leaned in, lowering his voice with a mischievous grin. “Every spirit’s power is different. The master may be strong in fighting, but I bet he can’t do this.”
Hearing this, Meng Huaize couldn’t help but laugh too. He also lowered his voice and whispered, “He may not be as good at fighting as you think. You should’ve seen him when he was younger—he was so fat he could barely stand…”
Before he could finish his sentence, the rain suddenly shifted direction, pouring down straight on them. Xue Zhao yelped in surprise, scrambling to gather the flowers and stuff them back into his pouch. In a panic, he shouted, “I’m sorry, Master, I’m sorry!”
The rain spared Xue Zhao, but relentlessly poured down on Meng Huaize’s face. Unable to block it with his hands, he stumbled and hurried into the house. He was drenched, water dripping from his soaked clothes, and windblown leaves tangled in his hair. He looked as if he had just rolled through a storm, utterly disheveled and miserable.
Wu Yue was lounging casually on the bed, one leg propped up, a smile playing on his lips—though the smile had a sinister undertone.
Meng Huaize had the word “bastard” on the tip of his tongue, but after mulling it over for a moment, he swallowed it down. Not daring to provoke Wu Yue, he lowered his head and muttered softly, “I was wrong too.”