Chapter 315

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“You still chop firewood for them?”

Zhang Xiaohua was a little speechless. He had chopped firewood up in the mountains when he was younger too, but back then, his eldest and second brothers had always taken turns accompanying him, only letting him carry a small bundle. He remembered that experience all too clearly.

“Yes, otherwise the teahouse would have to spend an extra two wen a day to buy firewood.” Ji Xiaohua replied with a smile.

Seeing that there weren’t many people around, Zhang Xiaohua was suddenly filled with childlike mischief. He set his longsword down on the road and smiled. “Go ahead, if you can lift it, I’ll give you an extra wen every day. But if you can’t, I’ll deduct one from your daily pay.”

“Ah!? Really? Young master, you’re not teasing me, are you?”

Zhang Xiaohua said: “How could I lie to you? Go on, give it a try.”

Overjoyed, Ji Xiaohua stepped forward, grabbing the middle of the longsword with one small hand and giving it a tug—but the blade didn’t budge an inch. Startled, Ji Xiaohua quickly took off the small bundle slung over his shoulder, walked up to the sword, gripped it with both hands, and heaved with all his strength. But even with his face flushed red from the effort, not so much as a shiver passed through the blade.

Only now did Ji Xiaohua realize just how naive he had been.

His eyes welled with tears.

Regret overwhelmed him. Great, now he’d be losing a wen a day!

He let go of the sword, picked up his bundle, and lowered his head in dejection. “Young master… I can’t lift it. Please carry it yourself.”

Zhang Xiaohua looked at his expression and chuckled inwardly. He bent down and effortlessly picked up the sword. “Let’s go—take me into the city.”

With no energy left in his voice, Ji Xiaohua responded: “Yes, young master. Please follow me.”

Seeing him like that, Zhang Xiaohua grinned. “Ji Xiaohua, don’t take it to heart. I was just teasing you. Now I officially announce—I’ll give you eleven wen a day.”

“Eh? Really?” Ji Xiaohua beamed. “Young master is truly a good person!”

Zhang Xiaohua heard that and frowned slightly. “Can you not call me ‘young master’? I’ve always found that title a little awkward.”

Ji Xiaohua blinked in surprise. “If I don’t call you ‘young master,’ what should I call you?”

Zhang Xiaohua scratched his head, suddenly at a loss. That’s right—what should Ji Xiaohua call him?

“Forget it, call me whatever you like.” Zhang Xiaohua said helplessly, waving his hand.

“Yes, young master! Please follow me.” Ji Xiaohua replied cheerfully.

With that, Ji Xiaohua led the way down the main road toward Songning Town, practically skipping with joy.

But just as they stepped into town, Zhang Xiaohua keenly noticed a thin sheen of sweat breaking out across Ji Xiaohua’s forehead. He frowned in puzzlement—after all, they hadn’t walked far, and this boy was clearly used to this road. Why was he already so tired?

As he pondered, Ji Xiaohua stopped, wiped his brow, and turned around to ask: “Young master, now that we’re in town, what do you plan to do?”

As he spoke, a rich aroma wafted from a nearby bun stall. Ji Xiaohua’s gaze involuntarily drifted toward it, and he secretly swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

“Aiya…” Zhang Xiaohua instantly understood, and felt like smacking himself.

“That thing earlier must’ve been Ji Xiaohua’s rations for today, and I went and ate it, reminiscing over hardship as if it were a noble act! I was just thinking of treating him to a good meal at noon, but I didn’t realize—he hasn’t even eaten breakfast yet. That cold sweat on his forehead must be from hunger…”

Thinking that, Zhang Xiaohua broke into a smile. “The first order of business upon entering the city? Naturally, it’s breakfast. Hm, this young master hasn’t had any yet. Come on, I’ll buy you some buns.”

With that, he strode toward the bun stall.

Ji Xiaohua was young, but he’d been on the streets for years. Of course, he understood Zhang Xiaohua’s intention. He looked at Zhang Xiaohua’s back, deeply moved, and quickly followed. He didn’t know, however, that this so-called young master was nothing more than a fake. If he had, he probably would’ve dragged him straight to a restaurant long ago.

The bun vendor was a sharp-eyed fellow. Seeing Zhang Xiaohua’s clean clothes and refined air, he quickly called out: “This way, young master! Care to try some fresh buns? Tired of rich dishes and heavy meats? Try our veggie buns—they’re good for your health!”

Then he glanced awkwardly at his grimy little table, unsure whether to offer a seat. But Zhang Xiaohua didn’t mind in the slightest. He plopped down at the table without a care. Ji Xiaohua followed and stood awkwardly beside him, unsure whether to remain standing or sit down. Zhang Xiaohua chuckled. “Sit, Ji Xiaohua. Don’t be so polite. After calling me ‘young master’ so many times, the least I can do is treat you to some buns.”

Ji Xiaohua murmured a reply and carefully sat down—far from Zhang Xiaohua—perching on the very edge of the bench. Truth be told, serving a young master was one thing, but sitting down to eat with one was another matter entirely. He’d heard that wealthy families had all kinds of rules about meals. This was his first time dining with a young master—and eating the meat buns he’d been craving for days, no less. How could he not be cautious?

Zhang Xiaohua saw this and didn’t say much. He simply said to the vendor: “Four vegetable buns and six meat buns.”

The vendor responded cheerfully: “Right away, young master!”

He opened the top tiers of two steaming towers of bamboo steamers, selected a few buns, and brought them over. Zhang Xiaohua noticed Ji Xiaohua’s eyes fixed on the fragrant meat buns, with drool nearly spilling from his mouth. With a smile, he pushed the four vegetable buns in front of Ji Xiaohua. Ji Xiaohua looked a bit disappointed. He cast a reluctant glance at the meat buns in front of Zhang Xiaohua, swallowed his saliva, and said: “Young master, you eat first.”

Zhang Xiaohua chuckled. “Let’s eat together.”

As he spoke, he reached for a pair of chopsticks on the table, but Ji Xiaohua quickly stopped him. “Wait, young master!”

Zhang Xiaohua paused, looking at him in surprise.

Ji Xiaohua took the chopsticks from his hands, skillfully picked up some tea from the table, and scalded them briefly, before handing them back.

Zhang Xiaohua could only smile wryly. What kind of young master am I? Can’t even do this right.

After all, when had Zhang Xiaohua ever been so particular about eating?

Seeing Zhang Xiaohua pick up a meat bun, Ji Xiaohua then quickly grabbed a pair of chopsticks and lifted a vegetable bun. He took a big bite. The bun had just come off the steamer—while the outside had cooled, the inside was still piping hot. Ji Xiaohua had little experience eating such things and didn’t know better. His mouth was instantly scorched, and he began sucking in air to cool it down, but even so, he couldn’t bring himself to spit out the bite already in his mouth.

Zhang Xiaohua watched him, amused, and poured him a cup of water. “Drink some water—it won’t burn then.”

Ji Xiaohua immediately stood up and mumbled through his scalded mouth: “Young master, how could I let you pour water for me?”

Zhang Xiaohua raised his hand, signaling him to sit. He passed the water over. Ji Xiaohua took it and quickly drank a mouthful—then drained the entire cup in one go. Of course, even though he worked boiling water at the tea stall, he wouldn’t dare drink it freely. Since morning, he’d been too busy to have even a single sip. How could he not be parched?

Ji Xiaohua, still blowing on the steam rising from his food, quickly finished the vegetable bun and was about to reach for a second when Zhang Xiaohua smiled and pushed the meat buns toward him. “Have a meat bun now.”

Ji Xiaohua paused, unsure what was going on. Zhang Xiaohua smiled again. “Go on, eat. You can talk while eating.”

With the “go-ahead” granted, Ji Xiaohua could no longer hold back. He picked up a meat bun and dug in. Luckily, thanks to his earlier experience with the hot vegetable bun, he avoided burning his mouth this time.

Watching him eat with such delight, Zhang Xiaohua chuckled. “When I was little, the first time I ate a meat bun, I burned my mouth pretty bad—and I ended up with a bad case of diarrhea. Later I heard people say that if your stomach hasn’t had meat in a long time, it’s best to eat a bit of vegetables first to prep your digestion before going straight for meat. That’s why I had you start with a vegetable bun.”

Ji Xiaohua suddenly understood. Mouth full of meat bun, he mumbled: “Young master knows so much.”

Zhang Xiaohua curled his lips. Of course I do. Paid for that lesson with stomach pain, didn’t I?

After Ji Xiaohua polished off three meat buns, Zhang Xiaohua stopped him. “Alright, that’s enough. Eat too much and your stomach will feel off. Let’s pack the rest. You can eat it later when you get hungry again.”

Delighted, Ji Xiaohua carefully packed up the remaining buns. Seeing how earnestly he was handling the food, Zhang Xiaohua was a little puzzled. “You’re gonna eat them soon anyway. No need to be that meticulous, right?”

Ji Xiaohua looked up earnestly and said: “I’m full now. I want to take these back to my mother.”

At the word mother, Zhang Xiaohua felt a sharp twinge in his chest. His nose turned sore, and he thought of his own mother—somewhere far away, probably grieving for him, perhaps even thinking him long dead.

He waved to the vendor. “Hey boss, pack me up two more trays—one vegetable, one meat.”

Ji Xiaohua looked confused. “Young master, you didn’t even eat one just now. You saving them for the road?”

Zhang Xiaohua smiled. “These are for your mother.”

“Huh?” Ji Xiaohua couldn’t believe what he heard. “Is that… for real?”

“For real. What, you think I’m lying to you?”

“But… that’s forty wen! Young master, you’re being so generous?”

“Forty? I thought it was thirty-six. Hmph, the world really is getting worse… Ah well, generous once in a while won’t kill me.”

Zhang Xiaohua paid up, and Ji Xiaohua efficiently packed the buns. Then he asked: “Young master, should we go take care of your business now?”

Zhang Xiaohua glanced at the bundle in Ji Xiaohua’s hands and said with a grin: “No rush. My business is simple. Let’s drop off your stuff first—then we’ll talk.”

“Great! My mom probably hasn’t eaten either. If we go now, it’s just in time.” Ji Xiaohua’s face lit up.

His home was in the southern part of Songning Town. Though technically inside the town, it was just a shabby little courtyard. The small house leaked air from every direction, not even comparable to Zhang Xiaohua’s home in Guo Village. Zhang Xiaohua didn’t go inside—he simply stood in the courtyard. He didn’t feel uncomfortable at all, but Ji Xiaohua firmly refused to let him go in, repeatedly insisting that it would be far too improper to have a young master like him step into such a place.

Zhang Xiaohua had already swept the shabby room with his divine sense. Inside, there was only a middle-aged woman with graying hair, curled up in bed. From time to time, she let out soft coughs—clearly trying to suppress them, but utterly unable to. Within his divine sense, Zhang Xiaohua even caught sight of faint threads of blood at the corners of her lips.

He sighed. Wasn’t it the same for Grandma back then?

Ps: Not sure if this chapter felt a little dull to everyone?

Thanks to “Seeking Immortality Without Asking the Dao” for the compliment—haha.

The worldbuilding of this novel is a little different from others. In many other stories, martial arts is just a preliminary phase before cultivation—for example, once one reaches the Xiantian level in martial arts, one can then start cultivating Qi. But in this book, martial arts is actually a refined evolution of the immortal path. The meridian systems for both martial and immortal cultivation are the same—the only difference lies in the type of energy cultivated. So the peak of martial arts can match the fifth or sixth level of Qi Refining in immortal cultivation. Moreover, due to the current scarcity of Yuan Qi in the world, spells are far weaker than they once were. In comparison, martial arts have become even more practical.

Of course, Zhang Xiaohua currently thinks he can’t compare to people like Ou Peng or Changgeng—but that’s just him underestimating himself. With Earth Escape, Fire Escape, and a flying sword already at his disposal, he’s long since achieved an undefeatable position. If he can’t win? He can always… run~~

Also, a reader commented that Zhang Xiaohua’s great strength is probably due to the bracelet, and asked why I didn’t make that clear in the story. Haha, the reason is: most novels explain everything too explicitly—it’s like certain TV dramas that treat the audience like they don’t understand anything, always needing narration and clarification. But I believe readers are sharp—just because I didn’t say it directly doesn’t mean you can’t figure it out. As you’ve seen, even without me saying it, someone already guessed it!

And about Zhang Xiaohua forgetting martial arts moves: part of it is to highlight his unique way of learning martial arts, and part of it is because if a technique could be fully conveyed in a few words, who’d need a master to teach it? If it were that easy, just hand the men’s football team a training manual and they’d have conquered the World Cup by now. Then again, maybe the so-called “training” in our country is already world-class, huh…
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