Chapter 61: This Venerable One Is Really Great?

The two bros stopped bickering and rose to their feet at the same

time. The person in front of them had an extremely dignified air.

Xue Meng stared for a moment before he finally reacted, nodding.

"Mn. That's right. Who are you?"

Xue Meng had been unruly since birth, and even though Madam Wang

had taught him etiquette over and over again, he'd never taken it to heart. So

when he asked for other people's names, he never used honorifics, and

neither did he offer his own name first. It was honestly quite rude.

However, Mo Ran knew that this wasn't someone who would stoop to

Xue Meng's level. After all, this was…

"I am a disciple of Rufeng Sect, Ye Wangxi." As expected, the young

man was calm and composed, and he didn't get upset. Below his dark, black

brows were a pair of eyes that shone like scattered starlight, exceptionally

bright and piercing. "May I inquire after your name as well?"

"Ye Wangxi?" Xue Meng frowned, muttering. "Never heard of that

name before. Must not have much of a reputation."

His mutter wasn't loud, but there was no way anyone who wasn't hard

of hearing could've missed that. Thus Mo Ran discreetly tugged on Xue

Meng's sleeve to get him to show some restraint before masking the emotions

in his own eyes and smiling lightly. "I am Mo Ran of Sisheng Peak, and the

one beside me is my ill-mannered little brother, Xue Meng."

Xue Meng pulled away, throwing him a fierce glare. "Don't touch me

—who's your little brother?!"

"Oh, Xue Meng, you…" Mo Ran sighed. He turned to Ye Wangxi, eyes

smiling along with his lips. "My younger brother is a bit stubborn. Please

don't mind him, Ye-xiong."

It wasn't that he'd suddenly decided to change his entire attitude and

start being courteous about Xue Meng. Rather, it was that Ye Wangxi was an

outstanding genius among his peers. Although Ye Wangxi had yet to make a

name for himself, in their previous lifetime, Ye Wangxi had been second only

to Chu Wanning in the entire cultivation world.

Heaven knew how greatly Mo Ran had suffered because of Ye Wangxi

in his previous life. To see him after his rebirth, still sharp as a knife's edge,

an upright hero pure and noble… Even if he couldn't get into Ye Wangxi's

good graces, at the very least Mo Ran never again wanted to face him as an

opponent.

It was already a lot having Chu Wanning beat him black and blue. If Ye

Wangxi was added to the mix, how could he ever live in peace?

Ye Wangxi was a man of few words, so after a brief, polite exchange,

he returned to his own residence. As soon as he left, Mo Ran's expression

reverted to his annoying-as-hell, shit-eating grin. He elbowed Xue Meng.

"What do you think?"

"What do I think about what?"

"That person," Mo Ran replied. "You like him? Think he's goodlooking?"

Xue Meng gave him a befuddled look and scoffed. "Weirdo."

Mo Ran laughed. "The four of us are living in the same courtyard, so

we'll run into each other around every corner. You should be glad that he's

the one we're living with."

Xue Meng was puzzled. "The way you talk, it sounds like you know

him already."

Of course Mo Ran couldn't tell him the truth, so he returned to his

usual clownery. "Nope, I don't know him, but I judge people by their faces.

He's good-looking, so I like him a whole lot."

"Disgusting!" Xue Meng spat.

Mo Ran laughed, waving his hand as he turned around and flipping an

offensive gesture at Xue Meng behind his back. He then lazily walked back

to his own little stone house and barred the door with a clunk, shutting all of

Xue Meng's cursing and swearing outside.

The morning of the next day, Mo Ran got up early.

Their hosts had delayed cultivation practice for three days so they

could grow accustomed to life at Peach Blossom Springs. Mo Ran freshened

himself up and saw that Ye Wangxi had already left on his own and that the

other two hadn't woken up yet. So he went for a solitary stroll through the

streets.

Within the thin layer of morning fog, quite a few cultivators glided by

with light steps, rushing to their individual cultivation grounds.

Mo Ran passed by a breakfast stall and saw a fresh pot of steam-fried

buns. He thought of his little shidi, who was still sick, and walked over. "I'll

take eight fried buns and one bowl of sweet congee to go, Mrs. Shopkeep."

The feathered stall owner didn't even lift her head to reply: "That will

be six feathers."

Mo Ran stared blankly. "Six what?"

"Six feathers."

"So…am I supposed to go find a chicken and pluck a couple of its

pinions?"

The feathered shopkeeper raised her eyes to give him a look. "No

feathers and you still want food? Go away, get lost."

Caught between annoyance and amusement, Mo Ran was about to ask

again when a familiar voice came from behind him. A hand wrapped in

bandages reached out with six glimmering, resplendent golden feathers

pinched between its fingers. "Here, Mrs. Shopkeep, I'll pay for it."

The feathered shopkeep took the feathers and, not wanting to waste any

more time, turned to pack up the breakfast to go. Mo Ran turned his head to

see Ye Wangxi standing by his side, tall and handsome, his presence elegant.

"Thank you very much." Mo Ran grabbed the steaming, piping hot buns

and the sweet congee, and went to walk alongside Ye Wangxi. "If I hadn't run

into you today, I'm afraid we might've gone hungry."

"No worries," Ye Wangxi said. "Miss Eighteen doesn't have the best

memory, and she always forgets to give newcomers some feathers. I ran into

you by chance, so it's no skin off my back. Don't worry about it."

"Do you need these feathers to do business in Peach Blossom

Springs?"

"Yes."

"Where do the feathers come from?"

"They're plucked."

"P-plucked…" Mo Ran was slightly dumbfounded. These feathers

really were plucked straight off the bodies of birds? Wouldn't the local birds

end up completely bald?

Ye Wangxi glanced at his shocked face with amusement. "What are you

imagining? In Peach Blossom Springs, there's a place called the Ancestral

Abyss. Legend has it that it was where the Vermilion Bird ascended. The

bottom of the abyss is filled with roaring flames—it's hot beyond measure

and difficult to endure. Not a single inch of grass can grow there, and no

beasts can survive it either."

As Mo Ran listened to this description, his mind went to the bloodred

sky that he'd seen in the distance when he passed through the city outskirts

the day before. "Is the abyss near the northern end of the city?"

"You are correct."

"What does that have to do with the feathers?"

"It's like this: Although no other creatures can survive in the vicinity

of the Ancestral Abyss, a flock of frenzied demon owls lives within it. They

make their nests with the fire, hide during the day, and come out at night. The

feathered tribe uses their feathers to refine their cultivation."

"So that's how it is." Mo Ran grinned. "No wonder they want to trade

goods for feathers."

"Mn. But you must be mindful. When the demon owls come out at

night, their feathers turn into the ordinary sort, no different from those of

other owls. Even if you catch them then, they won't be of any use. Only at

daybreak every day, when the sun rises in the east, will the owl flock return

to the Ancestral Abyss in the hundreds and thousands. The moment right

before they enter the abyss, their feathers again turn gold, and only those have

any value."

"Ha ha, isn't that basically just mandatory qinggong practice? If your

skills are subpar, then you'll fall in and get barbecued. But if you don't

harvest feathers, then you'll probably starve to death." Mo Ran couldn't help

but click his tongue. "That's pretty rough."

"Are you perhaps not good at qinggong?" asked Ye Wangxi.

Mo Ran chuckled. "Just so-so."

"That won't do. The owls' movements are swift and violent, no

slower than those of a falcon or hawk. If you don't practice diligently, then

you'll go hungry after a couple of days."

"I see, I see…"

Seeing Mo Ran lost in thought, Ye Wangxi sighed. "I've acquired quite

a few feathers, and for the time being I have no shortage thereof. If the three

of you need some, just ask me."

Mo Ran waved his hand again, smiling. "How could we do that? Let's

just count this as an initial loan of six feathers from you to me. I'm going to

go eat some food, but if I can harvest some feathers tomorrow, I'll pay you

back. Thanks a lot."

Mo Ran bade farewell to Ye Wangxi, then carried the congee and buns

back to the courtyard.

Xue Meng's residence was empty. He'd probably woken up and gotten

bored, then gone out for a stroll. So Mo Ran went to Chu Wanning's bamboo

house.

Chu Wanning wasn't awake yet. Mo Ran set the congee and steamfried buns on the table, then went to his bedside, where he lowered his head

to take a look at him. All of a sudden, a familiar feeling washed over him.

This little shidi's appearance as he slept…why did it seem similar to a

certain someone?

Mo Ran couldn't remember who his shidi resembled. He only had a

fuzzy impression of someone else who slept like this, someone who always

curled up into a ball on their bed, cheeks pillowed on folded hands. Exactly

who was it?

While Mo Ran was busy getting lost in his thoughts, Chu Wanning

woke up.

"Mmmm…" Chu Wanning rolled over and saw the person beside his

bed, at which he suddenly opened his eyes wide. "Mo Ran?"

"How many times have I told you? You should call me Shixiong." Mo

Ran ruffled his hair a bit, then felt his forehead to take his temperature. "It

seems like your fever's broken. Come on, get up and eat some food."

"Eat food…" the child on the bed repeated blankly, his messy hair

making his face look even cuter.

"Look at how your Shixiong cares about you—I got up early to go buy

breakfast. You should eat while it's hot."

Chu Wanning got off the bed, dressed in his spotlessly white inner

robes, and walked toward the dining table. On top of the dining table there

were steam-fried buns with thin skins and crispy bottoms, with jade-green

slivers of chopped green onion and black sesame scattered over them, all

placed on a lotus leaf. Next to the buns, there was a small bowl of longan and

osmanthus congee. It was soft and sticky, but simultaneously thick and rich,

as well as piping hot, with clouds of steam rising from it.

The usually strong and steadfast Yuheng Elder was suddenly unsure of

himself. "For me?"

"Ah?"

"Did you buy all of this…for me?"

Mo Ran was stunned for a second. "Sure did." He watched Chu

Wanning, who looked hesitant and unsure. Mo Ran considered this and

smiled. "Hurry and eat up before it gets cold."

Although Chu Wanning had been part of Sisheng Peak for many years

and everyone respected him, almost no one ate with him due to his icy, stiff

personality. They were even less likely to bring him a serving of breakfast

from the dining hall. Sometimes he watched the disciples taking care of each

other, and though he was unwilling to admit it, he couldn't stop his heart from

being slightly jealous. And so, faced with this bowl of porridge and a couple

of buns, he couldn't bring himself to actually eat them.

A long while passed in silence.

Mo Ran watched Chu Wanning sitting on the small stool, staring at the

food in front of him and not moving his chopsticks, and wondered if the food

might not be to his tastes. "What's wrong?" Mo Ran asked. "Is it too greasy

for you?"

Chu Wanning looked back at Mo Ran mutely and shook his head. He

picked up his spoon and scooped up a mouthful of congee. After he blew on

it, he took a careful sip. If he were still the beautiful, frigid, and distant Chuzongshi he usually was, eating congee in this manner would have made him

seem elegant and refined, as though he was practicing restraint. In the body of

a child, he just looked a little awkward and pitiful.

Mo Ran misinterpreted his hesitation. "Do you not like longans? You

can pick them out and leave them by the side, then. No biggie."

"No." The little shidi's face wasn't too expressive, but when he

looked toward Mo Ran again, his crow-black eyes were soft. "I like it."

"Oh… Ha ha, that's good, then. I worried that you didn't."

Chu Wanning's thick curtain of lashes swept downward. "I like it," he

repeated quietly. "No one's ever taken care of me like this before." He lifted

his eyes to glance at Mo Ran. When he spoke again, it was earnestly: "Thank

you very much, Shixiong."

Mo Ran hadn't expected him to say something like that, and he was left

feeling stunned. He wasn't a naturally kind person, and he didn't particularly

like kids. He only treated Xia Sini well because his skills were unusually

good for his young age, and he seemed like a junior worth befriending.

Mo Ran had only been thinking practically, but when he was met with

a Chu Wanning who treated this matter so sincerely, he found himself

blushing with shame. However, he also thought there was something a little

odd about what his shidi had said. After waving his hand to tell Chu Wanning

that he didn't require thanks, Mo Ran asked, "Has nobody ever bought you

breakfast before?"

Chu Wanning nodded expressionlessly.

"Do the Xuanji Elder's disciples not know how to look after one

another or something?"

"I don't hang out with them much."

"What about before you came to the sect? When you lived at your old

house, did your mom and dad…" Mo Ran stopped, unable to continue that

sentence.

His little shidi was quick-witted and pure as snow. What sort of

parents would have the heart to leave that kind of kid on top of a mountain to

cultivate, and never come back to visit him ever again? It seemed like Xia

Sini had suffered the same experiences as Shi Mei and himself.

As expected, Chu Wanning said calmly: "My parents are no longer

around, and I didn't have any other relatives, so there was nobody to look

after me."

Mo Ran was silent for a long while before he let out a big sigh.

Originally I just wanted to be friends with this kid because one, his

cultivation level is quite high, and two, he's steady and mature, unlike the

typical rowdy ankle biter. Who would've thought that we came from the

same background?

When Mo Ran looked at the little shidi in front of him, he found

himself thinking of his own childhood and remembering those years that had

been rife with bitterness and hardships. A surge of emotion rushed through

his chest and filled him with sympathy and a sense of intimacy. Suddenly, he

said: "There was nobody to take care of you before, but from now on, there

will be. You've already called me your Shixiong, so from here on out, I'll

take care of you properly."

It seemed like Chu Wanning hadn't expected him to say this, and he

was a bit surprised. After a while, his features melted slowly into a tiny

smile. "You'll take care of me?"

"Mn. If you stick with me from now on, I'll teach you meditation and

sword techniques."

Chu Wanning's grin widened. "You'll teach me meditation and sword

techniques?"

Mo Ran misinterpreted his expression and scratched his head. "Don't

make fun of me. I know that your cultivation level is already pretty good, but

you're still young, and you have lots to learn. There's a lot of disciples under

the Xuanji Elder, and he probably isn't able to train you individually. What's

wrong with learning a bit from me? I have a holy weapon, you know."

Chu Wanning was silent for a moment. "I wasn't making fun of you,"

he said finally. "I…think you're great."

Chu Wanning would never have been able to say something like that

before. However, ever since his body had become smaller, it seemed that his

personality had grown gentler and softer as well. It was as if he had been

hiding under a cloak of darkness and could finally remove his rock-hard

mask.

As for Mo Ran, although he'd lived through two lifetimes, this was the

first time someone had praised him like this and said, "You're great." Even

though the one praising him was just a little kid, he was still at a loss as to

how to respond, overwhelmed as he was by the pleasant surprise. For a

while, Mo Ran could do nothing but sputter. His skin, which had always been

as thick as city walls, flushed red. He repeated what had been said to him,

stuttering, "I, I-I-I'm great… You really think I'm great?"

Suddenly, Mo Ran vaguely recalled that when he was young, he had

wanted to be a good person. But that small, gentle wish of his, much like all

of his other little wishes—

"When I grow up, I want to ask Li-zizi from the makeup store to marry

me." "When I have money, I want to eat pancake fritters every day." "If I

could have just two pieces of barbecued meat for every meal, I wouldn't

trade it even for immortality."

—all of it, in the end, had become nothing more than memories, blown

away by the wind and scattered in the snow.