Chapter 6: I’m Hungry

The moment Qu Xingyi said that, the back of his neck prickled with cold. He looked around, but there wasn’t a breeze in sight. Rubbing his neck, he said, “That’s strange. Why do I feel so cold?”

He had an ominous feeling, too—one he couldn’t explain.

“Winter is almost here. Of course it’s cold.”

Shen Yueshan asked, “How long until the Tianfu Tournament?”

Qu Xingyi grimaced at the question. “A little over a month, probably. Our sect has never been much for fighting. We paid a lot of spirit stones to keep the peace. I just hope no one takes the money and goes back on their word.”

Shen Yueshan gave a quiet “Mm” and tossed him a pouch. “Take this.”

“What is it?”

“Take a look.”

Shen Yueshan picked up a sheet of paper and deftly folded and curled it between his fingers. In moments, a delicate paper figure stood in the palm of his hand.

He set it on the table and gave it a gentle push. The paper figure came to life, its joints moving freely as it picked up a teacup and carried it toward Qu Xingyi with a cheerful little Heave-ho! Heave-ho!

As Qu Xingyi stared in astonishment, Shen Yueshan said matter-of-factly, “I folded quite a few of these. Give them to the disciples going to the Tianfu Tournament and have each one infuse a figure with spiritual power to bind it. Anyone below the Nascent Soul stage will have a hard time breaking through its defenses. They can use the figures for odd jobs, too, and each one can withstand a Soul Formation attack. Give them to the disciples for protection.”

Qu Xingyi was speechless for a long moment. He rummaged through the spirit pouch and found it packed full of paper figures. Drawing in a sharp breath, he said, “…The Puppet Paper Figure Technique has been lost for a hundred years.”

Shen Yueshan blinked. “Has it?”

He had learned all sorts of things in the past, all strange and varied. This was the only way he knew to make a defensive artifact without spending spiritual power. All it took was moving his hands. When he used to get lazy, he would fold paper figures to bring him tea and water.

“Actually, more than the paper figures, the disciples need you,” Qu Xingyi said.

Shen Yueshan lowered his eyes and lightly prodded the brazier, coaxing the fire beneath the tea to burn hotter. He returned the kettle to the stove. “What do you need me to do?”

“Huo Xun is taking the disciples to compete, but he’ll have a hard time holding his own. At the last tournament, I spent a lot of money trying to smooth things over, and plenty of sects still went back on their word at the last minute.”

Qu Xingyi lowered his head, ashamed. “If we had a powerful elder with them to keep everyone in line, things would go much more smoothly. So…”

His eyes flicked cautiously toward Shen Yueshan, who was slowly adding tea leaves to the kettle. He didn’t need to say the rest.

Shen Yueshan stopped what he was doing and stared calmly at Qu Xingyi. “So you want me to go?”

“Our sect has only one elder. Please take pity on us.”

Qu Xingyi sighed. “Wunian Sect can’t be left alone. If I go, who knows what might happen. At every tournament, our sect gets taken advantage of one way or another. Now that you’re here, Elder Shen, I have no choice but to trouble you.”

The room fell quiet.

Shen Yueshan set down the tea tongs. His long lashes lowered, casting a shadow over his lower eyelids and hiding his expression.

Every sect of any renown in the Cultivation World had to attend the Tianfu Tournament. It was usually held at the Gengchen Immortal Sect, the largest sect in the realm.

Aside from the twelve leading immortal sects, nearly a hundred smaller sects would attend. More than ten thousand cultivators would compete for the two hundred places on the Long Bamboo Stele.

And going to the Gengchen Immortal Sect meant running into people he used to know. Especially at an event like this.

He didn’t want to see them.

After a moment of silence, Shen Yueshan asked, “Could we send someone else? You go. I’ll stay.”

At that, Qu Xingyi forgot he was the Sect Leader and slumped over the table, wailing.

“There’s truly no one else. If I had any choice, why would I ask you to go while you’re still ill?”

He went on, “It’s not as though I’ve never been to the Tianfu Tournament. I took the disciples there once, more than ten years ago. While I was gone, a small sect came to cause trouble. Our younger disciples couldn’t fight them off. Some were injured, some were killed—the whole thing was worse than going to the tournament. They won’t dare come after us as long as I’m here.”

Shen Yueshan said nothing.

Since ancient times, wealth without the strength to protect it had always invited trouble.

Thinking of Wunian Sect’s lively, energetic disciples, Shen Yueshan couldn’t bring himself to refuse. He sighed. “Very well.”

He couldn’t let a group of young people lose their lives for nothing at the Tianfu Tournament. Besides, he couldn’t do much to manage the sect if he stayed behind.

Shen Yueshan lowered his eyes. “Get everything ready, then call for me before we leave. I’ll go along this once. I’ll just have to be careful to avoid the people I used to know.”

Qu Xingyi went from sobbing to beaming in an instant. “I’ll get started right away. Thank you for doing this!” Then he hurried out, setting the bamboo bells beneath the eaves chiming again.

A draft blew into the room. Shen Yueshan frowned; the cold air bothered him, and he coughed a few times. He flicked his sleeve, sending a gust of wind to shut the window.

He used only a little spiritual power, but it still sent a sharp pain through his chest. He bowed his head and spat out a mouthful of blood.

…

A deep red stain spread across the long table.

Rong Huang’s gaze drifted to the two spots of blood on Shen Yueshan’s collar. Against the white fabric, they were stark and bright.

Noticing where Rong Huang was looking, Shen Yueshan calmly wiped the blood from his lips. “I’ll probably cough up blood fairly often from now on. It’s not much. You’ll get used to it.”

Shen Yueshan lifted a hand and waved away the chill around Rong Huang before sitting by the couch. “Are you hungry?”

He touched the child’s head and found it cold. Taking the outer robe draped over his shoulders, he put it around Rong Huang’s. “The Sea Valley is remote, and it’s colder here than elsewhere. In a few days, I’ll take you to Jingyang City to have some winter clothes made.”

The lining of the robe was fur, with a thin strip of fur around the collar. It was far too big for the child. After helping Rong Huang into it, Shen Yueshan trimmed the dragging sleeves and hem, then pulled the front together and fastened it with two extra ties.

The fur collar looked modest on Shen Yueshan, but it engulfed Rong Huang’s whole neck.

The soft fur brushed his cheek. Rong Huang could even catch the faint scent of cold pine and snow clinging to the robe. It was subtle, but it wouldn’t fade.

He narrowed his long eyes and watched Shen Yueshan for a while. When it seemed the man truly intended to raise him as his son, he tested the waters.

“Adoptive Father?”

When Shen Yueshan quietly answered, Rong Huang smiled and reached out to embrace him, putting on an innocent air. “Adoptive Father, I’m hungry.”

Where their bodies touched, a few threads of Ghost Qi slipped silently back into Rong Huang. As he felt his source of power return, a flash of malice crossed his eyes, and his smile turned cruel.

Shen Yueshan didn’t notice Rong Huang’s eagerness to make a move. He called toward the door, “Zhou Jiangnan, do you know how to cook?”

Outside, Zhou Jiangnan was grinding herbs in the courtyard. At Elder Shen’s question, he scratched his head with a troubled look. “Cook? I started cultivating when I was fifteen. I’ve lived on fasting pills since I was a kid, so I never learned. Do you want something to eat, Elder Shen?”

“I don’t. Rong Huang’s hungry.” Shen Yueshan thought for a moment. “Bring me some rice and a couple of chickens and ducks.”

He had checked Rong Huang’s spiritual meridians. The child hadn’t begun cultivating yet, so he couldn’t take carefully refined spirit pills. Besides, he had just woken after suffering serious injuries. Fasting pills were an option, but they couldn’t compare to the spirit rice grown by Wunian Sect or the chickens and ducks raised on spiritual energy.

Making the child a meal shouldn’t be too difficult. Boiling rice and making soup couldn’t be that hard.