Wenren Sheng crept over to the plate of buns on cat-like feet.
Fortunately, the one guarding the food wasn’t some mad dog demon. Wenren Sheng politely asked, “Can I have one?” and it shifted to the side, silently giving its permission.
Overjoyed, Wenren Sheng cupped the hard-won food in both hands and squeezed onto the steps alongside the Guard Dog.
Steam rose from the bun skin. Wenren Sheng cautiously sniffed the scent, detected nothing unusual, and only then bit in with relief.
He had been starving for a whole day, and he felt like he was about to flatten out.
If he passed out from hunger, his Transformation Technique would surely fail, exposing his demon identity. All his efforts that day would go down the drain.
Wenren Sheng would not allow that to happen.
So at that moment, choosing to eat the bun wasn’t gluttony—it was part of his strategy.
As he thought this, he munched on the bun with a face full of bliss.
After just a few bites, Wenren Sheng felt a bone-chilling cold at the back of his spine, accompanied by a faint itchy pain, like a feather tickling back and forth.
He shivered and twisted uncomfortably.
How strange.
Wenren Sheng recalled that when the Mountain God had grabbed him earlier, he had also touched the skin in that spot.
It was close to his heart and lungs—the location of his spirit root.
Why had the Mountain God suddenly probed his spirit root?
“Could it be…”
Wenren Sheng’s eyes lit up at once. He looked excitedly at the aged dog beside him and asked,
“Is it because I’m especially awesome?”
Unfortunately, the dog hadn’t cultivated a human form and apparently didn’t understand human speech. It merely gazed straight ahead without responding.
“It must be.”
Wenren Sheng wasn’t upset by its silence. He swung his legs and bit into his bun, cheering himself up.
Sure enough, the Mountain God had noticed him.
It seemed this trip down the mountain was the Mountain God’s test for him. He had to perform well.
With that thought, Wenren Sheng brimmed with energy, and he devoured the bun even faster.
Not long after, a commotion erupted at the mountain gate.
Wenren Sheng looked up toward the noise and saw that He Mu had at some point drawn his Amber Gold Sword and directly pierced Wu Di’s shoulder from behind.
Blood oozed down Color Kill’s sharp blade, quickly soaking the ground.
Even from that distance, Wenren Sheng smelled the intense killing intent radiating from He Mu, nearly overflowing.
Oh no, the Mountain God was angry!
It couldn’t be because he had snuck out to steal a bun, could it?!
Startled, he hurriedly swallowed his bite and scampered a few steps to catch up behind He Mu.
As soon as he got close, Wenren Sheng sensed the tense atmosphere among the group, along with the killing intent overflowing from He Mu, blatantly aimed at Wu Di, Chen Lian, and the others.
He was angry for real, but it didn’t seem to be about the stolen bun.
This was…
A fight about to break out?
The thought made Wenren Sheng even more panicked.
No, he wasn’t ready for battle yet!
And that “invincible” elder—his name alone sounded impressive, so his strength was probably formidable too. With so many of them, what if the Mountain God couldn’t win?
He didn’t want the Mountain God to lose face in public!
With that in mind, Wenren Sheng hurriedly grabbed He Mu, trying to persuade, “You, you don’t kill—hic—I… cough cough!”
But Wenren Sheng had choked a bit. He paused after two words, and before he could get out the second half—”I’ll help you escape”—he was coughing uncontrollably.
Just then, Wu Di, who had been clinging to life, stiffened. His face drained to a sickly pale, and he toppled straight backward like a dried corpse, tumbling into the group of cultivators.
The stagnant air shattered at once. The group clumsily caught Wu Di, with the lead few awkwardly assuming defensive sword stances, wary of He Mu’s next move.
They hardly looked like a proper Immortal Sect.
He Mu inwardly cursed them as “trash.” He formed a Sword Art with his hand, and Color Kill flew from his grasp, hovering in the air and whirling toward the cultivators.
A point of cold light gathered at the sword tip. Rippling spiritual power stirred a gentle breeze that slowly lifted the hair on He Mu’s forehead.
In the earlier chaos, he had only vaguely heard Wenren Sheng say, “You don’t kill me.”
He offered no explanation, only thinking to himself that the kid was still just a kid after all—scared at the sight of real weapons.
“Are you afraid of pain?”
He glanced sideways at Wenren Sheng and asked.
Unexpectedly, Wenren Sheng shook his head, his face flushed as he earnestly explained, “I’m not afraid of pain. I’m worried about you.”
He Mu’s expression froze, and Color Kill paused along with him.
Looking down, he saw Wenren Sheng’s round blue eyes full of genuine concern, without a trace of deceit.
“…”
Worried about him? It couldn’t be that he was afraid He Mu would lose, could it?
Or… was he trying to persuade him not to kill?
Cultivators who had ascended couldn’t casually commit killing karma without cause. He Mu’s merits were already pitifully low, and he had come down to the mortal realm precisely to do good deeds and accumulate more. He really couldn’t kill indiscriminately.
He Mu’s eyes widened slightly.
He hadn’t mentioned it, yet Wenren Sheng had already figured it out.
This kid seemed pretty dumb at first glance, but he had such a mature side?
Wenren Sheng’s words stirred unfamiliar ripples in He Mu’s heart. Compelled by impulse, he sheathed Color Kill once more.
Fine. Killing in front of a child was too bloody anyway. Better to handle it discreetly later.
Wenren Sheng, watching from the side, saw the Mountain God put away his sword and assumed it meant “time to run.”
He quickly stood on tiptoe, waved He Mu down, and beckoned him to bend over.
He Mu hesitated but then squatted down in front of the cultivators and leaned in to listen.
Wenren Sheng covered his mouth with one hand and whispered mysteriously, “I’ll cover for you. You run first.”
He Mu hesitated. “Run? Where to?”
Wenren Sheng grew anxious. “Back to Fragrant Ze Mountain! What if they catch you and steal your spirit root?”
He spoke from experience, so he was especially certain.
The first time he had been captured and brought to Return to One Sword Sect, he had overheard them constantly talking about “spirit roots” and “realms,” pointing at him.
Back then, Wenren Sheng thought spirit root was some kind of food like lingzhi and had flusteredly explained that he hadn’t stolen anyone’s stuff.
“Go, hurry!”
Wenren Sheng anxiously shoved at He Mu.
“You’ll be too late if you don’t run now!”
Single-mindedly focused on protecting the Mountain God’s spirit root, he completely ignored the stunned cultivators across from them, who didn’t even dare blink.
He Mu was utterly baffled by the pushing. He only managed an “Eh?” before Wenren Sheng dragged him outward heedlessly.
They stumbled dozens of li like that, finally stopping near the city gate.
For such a small body to drag along someone over eight chi tall was too much. After just those few steps, Wenren Sheng panted like he had climbed a mountain.
He bent over, gasping for air, and between breaths urged He Mu to leave.
“Quick… quick, go! I’ll hold them off!”
“Alright, alright, that’s far enough,” He Mu waved a hand and suggested, “How about we hide?”
Wenren Sheng took a deep breath and finally straightened up.
He looked around and pointed to a teahouse not far ahead.
“Let’s hide there!”
No sooner had he spoken than He Mu scooped him up and strode into the teahouse in a few steps.
The moment they entered, Wenren Sheng caught a whiff of tea fragrance. String music chimed in his ears, and a wave of scented hot air flushed his face red.
…The smell of food!
Still panting lightly, before he could take in the teahouse’s interior, He Mu carried him up to the second floor.
In the middle hall on the second floor stood a wooden screen hung with plaques. He Mu casually grabbed one marked “Dragon Pellet Snow,” hung it on their booth partition, then parted the thin curtain and slipped inside with Wenren Sheng.
The motions were smooth and practiced, like that of a regular patron.
Wenren Sheng was set down on the floor, and his breathing finally steadied.
“Great, we escaped…”
He clutched his chest in relief.
He Mu kicked out a chair and sat down casually.
Looking at the still-panting Wenren Sheng, he propped his cheek with a smile. “Have you been here before?”
Wenren Sheng shook his head. He clambered onto a chair taller than himself, then mimicked He Mu by propping up his own face.
“I don’t come down the mountain much,” Wenren Sheng said, “but I know a lot about what goes on down here.”
He Mu’s eyes crinkled in amusement.
“Impressive.”
It was near dusk, and business in the teahouse was moderate. The waiter was efficient and soon brought the Dragon Pellet Snow.
Wenren Sheng had never drunk anything like it.
He circled the teacup with both hands and stared blankly at the swirling leaves inside.
So this was what the Mountain God usually drank.
Did that mean he should learn to drink it too, so he could grow stronger faster?
But before getting stronger, the more important thing was finding his family.
Through the rising steam, Wenren Sheng cautiously eyed He Mu across from him.
Had he passed that test just now…?
He Mu didn’t notice Wenren Sheng’s expression. He sipped his tea while peering through the window slit at the distant Return to One Sword Sect.
When he had struck earlier, he had infused the Immovable Bright King technique into his sword—enough to keep Wu Di unconscious for two hours.
He had meant to interrogate him, but the kid had interrupted.
He Mu wasn’t annoyed. He turned to Wenren Sheng.
After all, he could just ask the person involved.
He Mu smiled at Wenren Sheng. “Were you wondering why I suddenly brought you down the mountain?”
Caught off guard by the gaze, Wenren Sheng guiltily averted his eyes and nodded lightly.
He Mu said, “I don’t want to hide it from you. Actually, I returned to Fragrant Ze Mountain to do good deeds.”
“Do good deeds.” Wenren Sheng repeated.
He Mu’s smile deepened. “Yeah. Heavenly Court’s performance review this year said my mortal merits were too low, my reputation too poor, and my believers too few. So I came back to do some ‘good deeds.'”
Wenren Sheng’s mouth fell open. “Oh— so that’s how it is!”
He had never seen anything like this in storybooks. Turns out even being a god wasn’t easy.
He Mu continued, “The first good deed I wanted to do was help you.”
“Me?” Wenren Sheng tilted his head in confusion. “Help me with what?”
He Mu got straight to the point. “Those people who bullied you—I’ll teach them a lesson for you.”
Wenren Sheng was puzzled. “Didn’t you already teach Chen Lian a lesson up on the mountain?”
“That’s settling today’s new grudge. The old accounts aren’t cleared yet.” He Mu leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing. “Tell me how they bullied you. I’ll get revenge for you.”
Wenren Sheng was surprised.
He had never even thought about retaliating against Chen Lian. He Mu bringing it up so suddenly left him at a loss.
But then he remembered the storybooks he had read.
They said gods appeared to fulfill people’s wishes—gods existed because of people.
To solidify his “human” identity, he probably needed to tell He Mu a wish too.
With that in mind, Wenren Sheng tentatively asked, “Would that count as doing a good deed?”
He Mu was puzzled. “What do you want me to do then?”
Wenren Sheng pursed his lips, his voice even softer. “I… I have no family…”
At that, He Mu sighed softly.
As expected, kids didn’t hold grudges.
Compared to past grievances, what Wenren Sheng needed more was present happiness he could grasp.
He Mu reached out and ruffled his hair soothingly. “Of course, no problem. Before I go back, I’ll find a suitable family in the lower realm to adopt you.”
Hearing this, Wenren Sheng’s heart slowly sank.
He had only been testing the Mountain God’s intentions casually, but the answer still made his heart skip a beat.
Did that mean… the Mountain God didn’t need family?
Was it because he hadn’t performed well enough just now?
If Wenren Sheng had wolf ears at that moment, they would have drooped dejectedly.
“Oh…”
He mumbled dispiritedly, the sparkle in his eyes fading in an instant. He looked utterly listless.
Sigh, his mood was worse than a mushroom flattened under a rock.
