Shizun Will Tie Your Hair for You
Duan Wangyue looked at the bright red dishes before him and nodded solemnly. His mature-beyond-his-years appearance made Xiao Yuan’s heart feel as though it had been gently poked by some nameless object.
He was truly, unbearably adorable.
Considering the delicate state of a child’s digestive system, Xiao Yuan hadn’t used many chili peppers in the stir-fried spicy chicken. As for why the dish turned out looking so intensely red, that was probably just a unique characteristic of the vegetables in the realm of cultivation.
“Let’s eat.”
Duan Wangyue picked up his bamboo chopsticks, wore a solemn and resolute expression akin to a hero marching to his execution, and placed a piece of the red, unidentified food into his mouth.
The color of this dish was so bizarre. At a glance, you could tell it was made personally by Shizun!
Seeing this, Xiao Yuan assumed the little dragon must be quite skilled at handling spicy food. It wasn’t until he saw the little dragon’s brows furrow slightly, tears shimmering in his eyes, his nose and lips burning red from the spice, gasping for air while puffing out his cheeks and chewing desperately, that he realized something.
The little dragon was not good with spicy food at all; he was absolute trash at eating spice.
Pouring a cup of water and placing it within the little dragon’s reach, Xiao Yuan didn’t pull his hand back right away, perhaps driven by a bit of professional habit. Instead, he moved his hand up a bit and held it flat right in front of Duan Wangyue’s lips. “Spit it out.”
Duan Wangyue’s chewing froze. He raised his head in a daze, looking at Xiao Yuan as if he couldn’t quite understand why Shizun would do such a thing.
Xiao Yuan had always been exceptionally patient with little ones, especially little ones with horns on their heads and furry tails behind them. He repeated gently, “Spit it out.”
Only then did Duan Wangyue seem to snap back to reality. He grabbed Xiao Yuan’s hand with both hands and carefully spat the piece of chicken from his mouth onto that long, jade-like palm.
The chunk of chicken that had been chewed in his mouth didn’t look particularly appetizing. If it were anyone unfamiliar, having someone spit onto their palm would have grossed them out for ages, but Xiao Yuan acted as if it were completely nothing.
After all, back when he was working, if curious patients shoved unknown things into their mouths and refused to spit them out, he and the other medical staff often had to reach in and dig it out manually.
Casually placing the chunk of chicken on the table from his palm, Xiao Yuan took out a handkerchief to wipe away the moisture on his hand. Looking at the jittery, uneasy little fellow in front of him, a mischievous urge to tease him welled up.
He propped up his hand and waved it slightly in Duan Wangyue’s field of vision. Noticing the child’s eyes tracking the movement of his hand back and forth, he couldn’t help letting out a soft chuckle. “Wangyue, my hand is covered in your saliva.”
Duan Wangyue stammered, unable to form any words. Xiao Yuan had been wanting to touch his disciple’s tail again anyway, so seeing this, he leisurely added another line. “What should we do about this?”
How could a five-year-old child who had barely seen anything of the world ever outwit a sharp-witted doctor who used to work in a psychiatric hospital? Duan Wangyue instinctively bounced the question right back.
“What should we do?”
Having walked right into the trap, Duan Wangyue completely forgot that it was actually Shizun who had told him to spit it into his palm in the first place.
Xiao Yuan stood up, grabbed an empty bowl, poured half a bowl of warm water that had been boiled and set aside earlier, and placed it in front of Duan Wangyue.
The latter watched his every move. Xiao Yuan picked up his chopsticks, picked up a piece of chicken, swirled it carefully in the water to wash away the chili clinging to the meat, and then placed it into Duan Wangyue’s bowl.
“Don’t wrap your tail tightly around your waist all the time.”
If it stayed wrapped around him all the time, how would he ever get a chance to touch it?
Duan Wangyue didn’t reply, only giving an extremely slight nod. He picked up the meat in his bowl and took a bite, thinking to himself that this was the most delicious chicken he had ever eaten, and that Shizun’s cooking skills were truly wonderful, beyond description.
After lunch, Duan Wangyue took the initiative to stand up and help clear the bowls. Xiao Yuan wasn’t the kind of parent who excessively spoiled children; appropriate exercise was beneficial for physical and mental health, especially in a cultivation world where people killed for treasures and relied entirely on their own abilities.
People who were too soft-hearted simply could not survive here.
Duan Wangyue was only a tiny bit taller than the kitchen stove. Seen from afar from another angle, only the sharp tips of his dragon horns were visible. Standing on tiptoe to place the bowls on the counter, he looked left and right, found a bamboo stool roughly the size of his knees, dragged it over, stepped up onto it, and began washing the bowls with utmost concentration.
Xiao Yuan watched all of this from the side. That small bamboo stool had been made on the fly while crafting the other stools for the bamboo house, originally intended for his little disciple. He hadn’t expected that while tending the kitchen fire earlier, he would casually pull it out and sit on it first.
Now that his little disciple was standing on it to wash dishes, viewed from another angle, it could be considered well-utilized after all.
Xiao Yuan sat on a stool and poured himself a cup of hot tea. Before he could even set the teacup down, he noticed something twitching beneath the robes of his little disciple, who had his back turned while washing dishes.
When he saw clearly what it was, a hint of a smile crept up the corners of his eyes. But the moment Duan Wangyue turned his head as if sensing something, Xiao Yuan’s expression instantly reverted to that of the high and mighty, pure and aloof Immortal Qingyuan.
Just as the vigilant little fellow turned back around to resume washing dishes, Xiao Yuan’s gaze drifted lazily back to the spot, followed by a slightly regretful drop of his gaze as he blew on the steam rising from his tea.
The little fellow had wrapped his tail back around his waist.
Such a stingy little thing. Not letting him touch it was one thing, but he wouldn’t even let him look?
Duan Wangyue had no idea that his Shizun was eyeing his tail. He had been having a far too happy time these past few days. Inside his very own room, his tail was completely free, no longer needing to be wrapped around his waist, able to sway however it wanted.
As his mood relaxed, his tail unconsciously drooped behind him, swinging back and forth.
Washing the bowls clean in his hands, he stacked them together, producing a crisp clinking sound. He reacted quickly, as Shizun probably hadn’t noticed his tail.
He had to be careful, even more careful.
Xiao Yuan didn’t have much experience raising children. There was a saying on the internet that the first child everyone raises after reaching adulthood is themselves.
He lowered his charcoal pen, staring blankly at the carbon dust on his fingertips. So, how on earth was one supposed to raise a disciple?
The system had said that as long as the disciple didn’t destroy the heavens and the earth, it would be fine. That part was quite easy to manage now that he had found his young disciple, as long as he raised him properly and didn’t let him stray off the right path.
If he raised him into a useless slacker, wouldn’t that mean he wouldn’t be able to destroy the heavens and the earth either?
Plop.
A snowball smaller than his palm flew in through the propped-open window and landed on the desk. Glancing sideways, he saw the small red furball and the little bird he had previously fed a bit of spiritual rice throwing snowballs at each other across the snowy expanse.
That little bird truly lived up to being a bird of the cultivation world; its little claws were exceptionally agile. Though the snowballs it rolled up weren’t large, it could fly.
Scooping up a packed snowball and flying through the air, the little bird left his little disciple with absolutely no way to retaliate.
Reaching out to scoop up a handful of snow, the icy-cold sensation quickly turned his fingertips a pale red. He slowly packed the snow into a ball and tossed it out the window, striking the chattering, smug little bird flying triumphantly in midair.
Qin Ke had been feeling immensely pleased with himself when he took a snowball straight to the face, plunging straight down to the ground with a plop. Seizing the opportunity, Duan Wangyue pelted him with several more snowballs.
Weren’t they just children?
Xiao Yuan pulled out a pristine white handkerchief to meticulously wipe away the melted snow from his hands, taking care to brush off the lingering carbon dust as well. A smudge of grey now stained the snow-white fabric.
If he raised him wrong, he could just dispose of him.
Duan Wangyue cradled Qin Ke in his arms, lifted his head to look up at Shizun, and confessed with some stumbling hesitation, “Shizun, did I disturb you?”
Qin Ke gave an imperceptible roll of his eyes, acting like an obedient, ordinary little bird with just a tiny bit of spiritual energy tucked safely in the Young Master’s palm.
Xiao Yuan squatted down so that his line of sight was roughly parallel to the boy’s. Reaching out, he placed his hand on Duan Wangyue’s forehead to check his temperature. Finding that the little fellow’s body temperature was completely normal despite playing around in the snow for so long, he gently brushed the snow off his head. “Not at all.”
When he withdrew his hand, he accidentally brushed against that tender pair of dragon horns, which were slightly soft and still retained body warmth.
Duan Wangyue was caught completely off guard. A tingling numbness rapidly spread from that pair of horns across his entire body, turning his legs weak as he bumped straight forward into Xiao Yuan’s arms.
Xiao Yuan hadn’t anticipated this either. He opened his arms and caught the little fellow in a full embrace, standing up while remembering to pick up the little bird that had fallen to the ground and placing it into Duan Wangyue’s lap.
Duan Wangyue didn’t struggle while being held. He obediently nested inside Shizun’s fragrant embrace, his hands absentmindedly stroking Qin Ke’s feathers. He looked as though he really liked this newly made animal friend, though in reality, he very much wanted to toss it away.
“This is your home, and I am your Shizun.”
Xiao Yuan carried Duan Wangyue toward the study, continuing, “Wangyue, Wuan hopes you can relax a bit.”
A child should look like a child. There was no need to put on a facade of maturity, nor any need to pretend to be strong.
Duan Wangyue leaned against Xiao Yuan’s chest, his cheek squeezed into a soft little bundle of flesh. As Xiao Yuan spoke, he could hear the slow, steady, powerful thumping of Xiao Yuan’s heartbeat.
This is your home.
He blinked. Would he truly have a home?
Should he trust the person holding him right now, the aloof Immortal Qingyuan of the immortal sects?
This seemed like a very simple question because the person who called himself his Shizun and drank his master-initiation tea, Immortal Qingyuan, treated him really quite well.
Duan Wangyue nodded softly. The messy hair he had tied up himself earlier had come undone during their play, brushing lightly against Xiao Yuan’s chin with a faint tickle.
Xiao Yuan changed direction, carrying the little fellow with his messy hair toward his own bedroom.
“Shizun will tie your hair for you.”
Duan Wangyue sat on the stool, watching the Shizun standing behind him through the bronze mirror.
In all his years of living, Xiao Yuan had never had the slightest clue about styling hair; he only knew how to tie a simple ponytail.
Untying his little disciple’s hair bun, he picked up a comb and carefully brushed the child’s hair.
The hair in his hands was somewhat dry and yellowish, revealing the poor nutritional state of its owner.
The cool fingertips wove back and forth through the strands of hair, occasionally brushing against his scalp in a rather comforting manner.
“There is a hot spring at the back of the mountain. If you like it, you can go soak in it often.”
Duan Wangyue’s eyes nearly narrowed in comfort, but hearing this, his eyes flew wide open, full of eager anticipation. “Really?”
Xiao Yuan picked up the light cyan hair ribbon that matched the disciple robes and tied Duan Wangyue’s hair into a ponytail. It was his first time styling someone else’s hair, and once he finished, his own self-assessment was that it wasn’t half bad.
He replied, “Truly.”
Dinner was cooked by Xiao Yuan as well, except this time Duan Wangyue helped out on the side.
Xiao Yuan first tied up his own sleeves with sleeve ties, then tied up the sleeves of his little disciple, who had insisted on helping with dinner.
After dinner, with nothing better to do on either side, Xiao Yuan took Duan Wangyue to the study to practice calligraphy.
Duan Wangyue pinched his writing brush with utmost solemnity, holding his breath with a dark expression as he carefully traced the three characters that were supposed to be his own name.
He had never attended a formal school, but he had eavesdropped on a few classes, so he roughly knew how to hold a brush. Writing words, however, was a first.
He only felt that the brush in his hand was nothing like the obedient tool it had been in Shizun’s hand. What he wrote could hardly be called characters; they were exceptionally, remarkably ugly.