No Being a Picky Eater
Daring to gossip about the private affairs of Immortal Qingyuan himself? Have they got a death wish?
The junior disciple didn’t understand why, but seeing how nervous his Senior Brother looked, he swallowed the words on the tip of his lips and focused entirely on devouring his chicken leg.
Heh! I get to eat an extra chicken leg!
On the other side, Duan Wangyue had no idea how much attention his appearance had drawn among the inner-sect disciples of the Sword Sect. Still wearing his black hood, he sat obediently on a bamboo stool and ate his meal seriously. His cheeks were stuffed with food as he chewed hard, looking less like a young dragon and more like a little piglet.
The cultivation base of the body Xiao Yuan currently inhabited had already reached the peak of the Deity Transformation stage, meaning he had long since achieved Bigu and no longer needed to eat. Watching the little fellow radiating pure joy from head to toe, Xiao Yuan’s fingertips couldn’t help but twitch. Just as his hand touched his bamboo chopsticks, the happy little dragon looked up at him with bulging cheeks, cheeks that looked so chubby they were begging to be pinched.
But I can’t pinch them just yet. Not until the little fellow’s relationship with me grows a bit closer.
Calmly and collectedly, Xiao Yuan picked up his own bowl of rice, used his chopsticks to place a portion of stir-fried garden vegetables into Duan Wangyue’s bowl, and spoke in a voice as clear and crisp as a thawing spring brook, carrying a trace of coolness.
“No being a picky eater.”
Just moments ago, he had figured out that this little fellow was a complete carnivore. The chopsticks in his dragon claws seemed to have eyes of their own; whenever meat appeared, they hit the mark every single time, tossing it straight into his mouth while bubbles of pure happiness popped around him. As for vegetables? He didn’t pick up a single piece. He was a terribly picky eater.
Duan Wangyue frowned at the greens in his bowl, cautiously raised his head to glance at Xiao Yuan, and, meeting a warning gaze that brooked no pickiness, reluctantly conveyed the vegetables into his mouth with absolute disgust. It looked less like he was eating greens and more like the most bitter medicine imaginable, yet the tail wrapped tightly around his waist was wagging its tip excitedly. Is this what it feels like to be warned by family not to be picky?
Swallowing the vegetables that felt like they were scraping his mouth with tiny thorns, Duan Wangyue picked up another mouthful of stir-fried pork. The moment the meat entered his mouth, a pair of well-proportioned, fair fingers holding chopsticks dropped vegetables into his bowl once more.
This time, without waiting for Xiao Yuan to say anything, Duan Wangyue consciously ate the greens. A memory from his past days at the Duan residence suddenly flashed through his mind. He opened his mouth and let out an ah, letting his Shizun see that he had already obediently swallowed his vegetables.
Due to the nature of his past work, Xiao Yuan had always eaten at a fast pace. After wiping the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief, he saw the little fellow looking up with an expression full of expectation, waiting to be praised. His expression softened involuntarily, and he praised, “Wangyue is a good boy.”
The tip of the tail wrapped around his waist wagged again. Duan Wangyue pressed his lips together, curving them to reveal a pair of cute dimples.
Still a little fellow who gets happy just from receiving praise, Xiao Yuan thought to himself. Exactly what did the Immortal Qingyuan of the original novel do to Duan Wangyue to push that little sunflower toward such an extreme ending?
Yet now that he was here, whether to ensure he wouldn’t be carved into a skeleton in the future, or for the sake of the adorable little dragon before him, Xiao Yuan would properly guide him and steer him far away from the ending of the original book.
Destroying heavens? Annihilating earth? Not on his watch.
Prior to this, the Sixth Peak only had one living, breathing person: Xiao Yuan. Now, with the addition of Duan Wangyue, there were only two in total. Having no sweeping disciples or handymen meant that everything had to be done by oneself.
Before coming to this world, Xiao Yuan had lived alone as well, handling housework with practiced ease. Duan Wangyue followed closely behind him like a little tail, trying his best to help with whatever he could. It wasn’t until the third time he accidentally tripped over his own cloak and lunged forward, only for Xiao Yuan to pick him up by the scruff of his neck and set him down on a bamboo stool with his feet dangling and swinging back and forth, unable to move no matter how hard he tried to jump down and keep helping, that he finally sat obediently and watched Xiao Yuan make the bed.
The Immortal before him was slender and tall, his waist cinched extremely tight by a belt. When he bent down to straighten the bedclothes, his lower back curved inward, making his hips look exceptionally perky.
Duan Wangyue was still young at this time and only knew that his Shizun treated him exceptionally well, giving him a full stomach and now tidying up his room.
But is this kindness truly genuine, or does it carry an ulterior motive? He needed to put it to the test.
Closing off the peak entirely, and only ever leaving it to swing the Wuran whip at disciples in the Law Enforcement Hall, the news that the aloof Immortal Qingyuan had carried a child back and appeared in the inner-sect dining hall spread quickly to Sect Master Xiao Ziyu’s ears.
Upon hearing the news, Xiao Ziyu was consumed with curiosity. However, bogged down by busy sect affairs and unable to spare the time, he had no choice but to fold a paper crane with spiritual Qi and send it to the Sixth Peak to summon his junior brother to the First Peak. As the head of a sect, he naturally couldn’t summon a junior brother who usually shut himself away on the Sixth Peak over such a trivial matter. Frowning in thought for a moment, he pinned his excuse onto the disciple-recruitment grand ceremony coming up on the first of next month.
Duan Wangyue was the first to spot a small paper crane stumbling into the room. It circled Xiao Yuan a few times, and seeing that Xiao Yuan completely ignored it, it finally landed right on top of his head. Even though it was merely made of paper, one could practically sense its heartbreak over Xiao Yuan’s indifference.
Xiao Yuan had already sensed the paper crane the moment it breached the Sixth Peak’s grand protective array, but he paid it no mind. It wasn’t until the paper crane landed on his head that he reached up to pluck it off. A Sect Master’s transmission paper crane couldn’t simply be taken by reaching out directly; if you did, the crane would assume you wanted to play a game, and you wouldn’t be able to catch it unless you went through several rounds of you chase me, I fly.
After unfolding the crane and reading the spiritual Qi-inscribed text within, the paper crane automatically burst into flames. Xiao Yuan rubbed his fingertips, which were dusted with a few sparks, and told Duan Wangyue, “Your Sect Master martial uncle is looking for Shizun to discuss something. If you’re tired, rest by yourself, understand?”
Duan Wangyue nodded. With an expression of utter obedience, he still prompted Xiao Yuan to reach out and pinch his cheek. The fingertip, calloused from holding a sword, brushed against his skin with a slight itching sensation, an itch that refused to fade away even long after the person had walked away.
He hopped down from the bamboo stool, launched himself face-first onto his own bed, and rolled back and forth. The bedclothes and quilts seemed steeped in the heavy plum blossom fragrance of the entire peak, carrying a faint, pleasant floral scent.
Young Master, are you really going to stay in the Sword Sect and be Immortal Qingyuan’s disciple?
A plump, pale-red bird landed on the windowsill, shook the light snow off its feathers, and spoke in human language. Clearly, it was no ordinary bird, but a spirit beast, and its young voice suggested it wasn’t very old.
The black hood on Duan Wangyue’s head hung loosely by a thread due to his earlier tumbling. With no outsiders around now, he simply reached up and pulled the hood off, revealing a smooth, unblemished forehead and a pair of lustrous dragon horns not even the size of his palm.
The plump tail wrapped around his waist also dropped lazily to his side, the fluffy tip swaying leisurely from time to time.
Meeting the bird’s beady eyes, he asked, “Immortal Qingyuan?”
The bird fluttered its wings a few times. Its beak opened and closed rapidly as it chattered, “That’s your Shizun! His name is Xiao Yuan, and he’s super vicious! He kills demons and fiends without even blinking an eye!”
Is that why you kept so quiet and only showed up now?
Duan Wangyue looked at the bird, which had instantly frozen and played dead the moment it heard those words. Sitting on the soft, flower-scented bedding that his Shizun had just laid out himself, he curved his eyes and held out a hand, signaling for the bird to land on his palm. Once it flew over, he lay flat on his back, staring up at the light-cyan canopy of the bed, stroking the bird’s head absentmindedly as he asked, “Will he kill me?”
The bird, which was actually Qin Ke, the guard who had been following Duan Wangyue all along, opened its beak to reply, but the hand resting on its head suddenly tightened its grip. It shrank its neck in terror, too afraid to speak, and nestled obediently in the Young Master’s palm like a plush toy bird.
If it spoke its mind and the Young Master didn’t like what he heard, its little life would likely end right here and now.
Fortunately, Duan Wangyue didn’t really expect it to give him a definitive answer.
Sitting up, he looked in the direction Xiao Yuan had just left. He couldn’t read, so naturally he had no idea what was written on that paper crane, nor did he know what the so-called Sect Master martial uncle wanted with the Immortal. His tail beat a restless, thudding rhythm against the soft bedding.
Seeing this, Qin Ke didn’t dare to move a muscle. It nestled obediently in the Young Master’s palm, playing the role of a living hand warmer.
“Is that child truly just a disciple you brought back from the mortal realm?”
Xiao Yuan answered the question once more, “Truly.”
Xiao Ziyu clearly found this answer terribly boring. He slumped listlessly across his chair, completely lacking the imposing aura of a Sect Master. Xiao Yuan calmly sipped his tea, patiently waiting for his senior martial brother to recover his wits.
“That’s not right! Qingyuan, when did you run off to the mortal realm?” As if recalling something, Xiao Ziyu suddenly recovered all his energy. Looking at his junior brother calmly sipping tea, he probed cautiously, “If I remember correctly, the last time you left the sect was to undergo experiential training, right? And that last time was two years ago.”
Reaching out to press against the flat of the Wuran sword, Xiao Ziyu gloated, “Only you could head out for three months of training and drag it out into two whole years before coming back, and still manage it so that no one in the Sword Sect even found out.”
Otherwise, he’d lose all his old face.
Xiao Yuan recalled Wuran. With his long eyelashes lowered, the Wuran sword floating beside him gradually lengthened, hinting at a transformation into a whip. Seeing this, Xiao Ziyu reined in his expression and put on the airs of a Sect Master once more, giving a light cough. “This matter stays between you and me.”
Xiao Yuan gave a slight nod, acknowledging the agreement.
He had no idea that the original body was actually terrible with directions. A training trip meant to last a few months had somehow stretched into two years. If he hadn’t crossed over here, the original body probably would have spent a few more years wandering around the mortal realm.
It was fortunate that the original body was a tech-savvy homebody who hated going out, and no one dared to go to the Sixth Peak to disturb his peace. Otherwise, the news that the dignified Immortal Qingyuan went out for three-month training and delayed his return due to getting lost would have spread across the entire Sword Sect.
“Are you going to the disciple-recruitment grand ceremony on the first of next month?”
“I already have a disciple.”
Xiao Ziyu nodded and didn’t push further. “Fine then. Taking your martial nephew along to watch the bustle is fine too.” As Xiao Yuan turned to leave, he didn’t forget to remind him to visit the Vestment Hall to collect the disciple robes and jade pendant.
Although the original body was directionally challenged, the Sword Sect was the place where he had grown up since childhood, and he easily located the Vestment Hall. The duty disciple inside, who had been dozing off, was shocked awake instantly, stood up, and bowed hurriedly. “Immortal Qingyuan.”
Xiao Yuan nodded. “Two sets of disciple robes. About this tall.” He gestured at thigh height, then, thinking of the hooded cloak little Wangyue wore constantly, added, “And a hooded cloak of a matching size.”
The Sword Sect had quite a few young disciples, so standard disciple robes were always kept in stock, but small cloaks weren’t. If one was needed, it had to be requested in advance.
Looking somewhat nervous, the disciple handed the two sets of robes and the jade pendant to Xiao Yuan and explained this rule.
Hearing this, Xiao Yuan didn’t say anything further. He stored the garments away, left three spirit stones on the counter, and departed.
The disciple behind him stared at his retreating, ethereal figure for a long time, unable to snap back to reality.
When Xiao Yuan returned to the Sixth Peak to look for Duan Wangyue, he discovered that his little disciple had curled up on the bed and fallen asleep. The hooded cloak on his back had rolled back, exposing the secret he had refused to reveal no matter what while he was awake right to Xiao Yuan’s eyes.
A pair of lustrous, cute dragon horns, Xiao Yuan’s eyes lit up, along with a white dragon tail with a fluffy tip.