A mushroom who is human, or a human who is a mushroom, is there a difference?

A month away from the sect's pampering, I comprehended why experience is wealth. In this fleeting period of time, I was scammed and tricked into becoming a common beggar on the sweet. There was no method found for me to earn for my survival.

In this miserable state, I wandered into a remote village, miles away from my original destination Mirror Moon City.

Finally, an elder took pity upon me and taught me how to gather wood to sell. Heading to the forest every day and gathering firewood, morphed my perspective of the masses and the wild significantly. People, to eat, have to struggle between, needs desire and sentiments.

Rabbits were the biggest example of the struggle.

Humans were ultimately animals. Despite rabbits being the creatures owning the cutest countenance, their taste was their most sought feature. The rationality of those courtesans mirrored my own thoughts towards Rabbits-Money, Money, Money!

This was all a novel perspective. A cultivator since I could breathe, I never felt the need for such mortal desire. My master constantly indulged and relished in them, but I always presumed it was another of my master's eccentricities. It was difficult to believe my master was relatively normal.

"Little fool!" A hoarse and aged voice tenderly called out for me. I turned around to see Old Granpa Ling tottering towards me with a basket. Taking the load from him, I helped him sit down and served a glass of sweet water, "Are you going heading to the forest?"

I nodded.

"You shouldn't ah!" Grandpa Ling stressed, "Not today! Go tomorrow! You have recently settled in our village so you don't know, but every end of the month, the forest becomes covered in mist. If you enter during this time, you can never leave! Ah, but the outer forest is safe. Just avoid the places with black mist."

"Okay, Granpa!" I politely replied, "I'll be careful!"

Satisfied, Grandpa ling continued forward to his original destination, the market. Grandpa Ling was the person who assisted and supported me the greatest when I was originally settling down here. Occasionally, he would visit to check I wasn't starving myself again.

In accordance with grandpa's warning, I stayed at the edge of the forest. The mist truly existed, diffusing outwards from the forest's core and halting abruptly a span away from the forest's boundary, sparing a portion of the trees. It was almost like a barrier.

No, it definitely was a barrier. If it was any other immortals, excluding my master, they would be itching to explore what was concealed beyond. I could only worry about my rabbits.

I sighed. Rabbits were intelligent creatures. They retreated deeper into the forests knowing hunters would dare not enter. Understanding there would not be a good harvest today, I decided to wash up in the river.

The river mainly travelled through the core forest, but a length of it branched into the outer forest and the fields. Compared to the hot springs of Tranquil mountain, the river water was surely inferior. Nevertheless, it was the lifeblood of the village.

My master said to me once, "Treasures are not worth by their rareness, but their effectiveness."

But he also taught me, "Beware an adorable mushroom with a red cap!"

I stared at the cheeky red-capped mushroom frolicking at the juncture where the river flowed into the misty inner trees. It was immobile, so staying afar would still be safe. I undressed and placed my clothes on a nearby large stone.

The red cap mushroom glared at me, judging. Unbothered, I continued bathing, ensuring every inch of my body was sparkling clean.

"You-You shameless freak! I was trying not to say anything but you-you! Don't you know I am here! This is public property! If you are going to violate the law, do it out of sight!"

A clear voice, brimming with rage, rang out. I swept a suspicious gaze around the vicinity, however, not a single person was visible. My attention finally landed on the mushroom.

It was questionably trembling.

"A beauty like me saw you naked, do I have to now take responsibility? Ha! Even if you beg I won't!"

I blinked, tilted my head, perplexed, "How can a mushroom take responsibility?"

"You fool!" The mushroom admonished, "I am not a simple mushroom! Inspect carefully!"

I surveyed the mushroom, once again, but discerned no difference in her plump body and glistening crimson cap. It was still a charming exceptionally round and shiny mushroom.

"You are a mushroom." I concluded, blankly, "A very endearing mushroom."

"How could I be a mushroom!" She raged, "I am a human! A human who simply appears to be a mushroom!"

"Oh." Curious, I interviewed, "How could there be such a fastidious mushroom?"

"You-You!" She stuttered, speechless, "Try being a mushroom?!"

"Try being a mushroom?" I pondered, "How can we try being a mushroom?"

"How would I know?" The mushroom answered, "I don't even know why I am a mushroom?"

"My master told if you do not understand yourself, means that you do not understand the path you voyaged to become you today, consequently, you made choices foolishly!" I related sincerely.

The mushroom fell silent. My master's words were famous across the continent. My senior brother once told me my master became shameless due to overthinking and comprehending life is "Just that" and there is no need to fret excessively.

"One regrets in life. A wise man who did not regret is not wise." My master added, "Regret and mistakes made him wise. Life is just that. Regret and fulfilment. We regret because we made an unsatisfactory choice. We rejoice because we were fulfilled in life. Both regret and fulfilment make a life. And so why worry? If it is difficulty imminent, we simply have to labour. If joy is imminent, we simply have to enjoy. "

Senior master commented, "The theory is easy. But to truly feel like life is "Just that" is arduous. How do we not worry if worries are possible? How do we choose? What about evil? Is there evil in choices?"

"Oi! Oi! You" The mushroom cried, "Don't wander off into dreamland!"

I snapped out of my daze and recounted the rest of my words to the mushroom.

"You…" The mushroom sighed, "Why are you telling me all that? Did I ask for it?'

"My master told me to help whoever I can." I innocently responded, "Even if you are a mushroom."

"But they are your master's words." The mushroom pointed out, "Not yours."

Her words simply dissolved into my head. It did not make a difference whether this wisdom was owned by my master or me.

I appropriately opposed, "My master told me, as his apprentice, these words were my inheritance."

"Your master, Your master!" The mushroom cursed, "Your master is not you! Speak to me as you, not on behalf of your master!"

"Me?" I innocently expressed, "I think only a fool will talk to a mushroom."

The world temporarily was rid of any sounds. Even the river dared not gush forth, the breeze dared not dance, the birds dared not sing and the leaves dared not rustle. The environment was intelligent, and it was shocked into quietness.

"You just cursed yourself!" The mushroom exclaimed, dumbfounded, "You really are a fool!"

I smiled, "The masses believe I am a fool so I am a fool! Why bother not to be one?"

"Then you are not a fool!" The mushroom guffawed, "You are an actor! A brilliant actor!"

Her laughter was not stylish, it was rather anarchic and reverberated like how a baby bird may hum and an infant beast may play among the forest, shaking leaves and breaking trees. Yet it had its charm.

"Pluck me and put me into your luggage." The mushroom instructed, "Then I may forgive you talking to me unclothed with such a sombre face and tone while breaking laws."

I gazed at her hesitant, "Are you not poisonous?"

"Only if you eat me!" She countered.

I did as she directed. Queerly, she chattered through our trip in the forest, only halting when we exited. She did not utter a single word the remaining day. I placed her on the pillow next to me, before descending into a sound slumber.

This mushroom was surely not a standard specimen. It must be a kind of immortal treasure or something. Following my master's words, if she benefits me, I simply have to be benefited, if she brings me trouble, I simply have to be troubled.

"The hell?!" A shrill scream awakened me the following morning. The birds were startled into silences, the wind angrily knocked against the door and the sun glared through the window. Irritated, I scrutinized the source of the noise and gawked in bafflement.

The mushroom had grown dramatically in size. If it was the size of my palm before, it now was the length of my arm. I observed it wiggle and slip down out of my bed and to the floor, then toil into a standing position before hopping haphazardly around the room.

"Why did you grow?" I interrogated.

"Like I know?!" She squealed, ecstatic, "But this is great! I can move now!"

"Okay…" I clapped, trying to share some of her happiness.

The mushroom became a strange companion to me in the following months. Increasingly Atypical was how the villager easily acknowledged the concept of a speaking, intelligent mushroom. She would freely hop here and there, watching me work.

Although there was nothing special about her other than her speech, It didn't make a difference.

The sun smiling upon my skin, the winds teasing my hair and the mushroom pursuing birds, my desire to return to the sect diminished and my reluctance in succeeding the patriarch was growing.

My master told me once, I was too lazy to think, too lazy to make efforts, and followed the flow of life. But if this is where life had led me to, who can say it's bad?