“I’m a bit older than you.” The wind howled outside the window. As he spoke these words, Huan Zong’s mind felt somewhat dazed—he didn’t even know why he would say such a thing.

“Wow, I really couldn’t tell. I feel like you’re only a little older than me.” Looking at Huan Zong’s face that appeared to be only around twenty years old, Kong Hou thought of the saying “In cultivation, there are no years.” Ordinary people’s lives span only a few short decades, yet their mentalities and thoughts still change—let alone over hundreds of years.

In this instant, she vaguely comprehended something, yet still seemed confused.

“Does Kong Hou mind that I’m older than you?” Huan Zong lowered his head slightly, as if even his hair and eyelashes were tinged with melancholy.

The sight of a beautiful person looking melancholy was extremely lethal. In that instant, Kong Hou felt immensely guilty, thinking she had spoken too much and asked about something she shouldn’t have: “No, Huan Zong, don’t misunderstand—I don’t mind these things at all. Many of my senior brothers and sisters are one or two hundred years older than me, and we still have great fun together. Age isn’t a problem—how could I look down on you!”

Though she had only spent a few short days with Huan Zong, to Kong Hou, he was a very good friend. He would share story books with her, had a beautiful tree house, knew many cultivation world rumors she didn’t know, and was so good-looking besides.

With such a beautiful face, who would care how old he was?

“Young Master, we’ve arrived at the inn.” Lin Hu partially lifted the curtain, his gaze falling on Huan Zong. Huan Zong didn’t meet his eyes, elegantly tilting his head back against the cushion. “Go book the rooms. Kong Hou and I will come over shortly.”

Lin Hu withdrew his gaze and lowered the curtain, his voice coming from outside: “Very well, Young Master.”

The curtain swayed gently. Huan Zong looked at the glass bead tassel hanging from the bottom edge of the curtain and slowly blinked. Lifting the curtain, he stepped down from the carriage, surveyed his surroundings, then turned to see Kong Hou following him down and said, “The conditions here are rather poor.”

“When traveling, there’s no need to be so particular.” Kong Hou jumped down from the carriage, one foot sinking into the snow. She lifted her foot and heard the sound of wind moving fabric. On a locked wooden building to the left, a worn cloth sign fluttered in the wind. It hadn’t been washed in who knows how long and had become so dirty the words on it were illegible.

A thick sense of desolation filled the entire street.

“Distinguished guests, please come inside.” A waiter came out to greet them, wanting to lead the horses. Before he could get close, the horses reared up on their front legs and neighed, frightening him into backing away several steps, not daring to approach again.

The waiter’s clothes were patched but kept quite clean. His eyes looked exceptionally cautious, as if worried the guests might leave in displeasure at the slightest provocation. He wasn’t dressed warmly—his blue cloth shoes had already gotten half-wet walking in the snow, and his hands exposed outside his sleeves were rough and tinged with a bluish color, yet he didn’t dare stamp his feet or rub his hands for warmth in front of the guests.

“It’s all right—these two horses are very obedient and won’t run off.” Kong Hou glanced at the shoes on his feet. “Come in and show us to the guest rooms.”

“Right away, distinguished guests.” The waiter trotted across the threshold. The hall below was very deserted, with only three or four diners scattered about. The oil lamps were dim, their flames flickering from the cold wind rushing through the door.

Perhaps because the hall was too deserted, when they saw other guests entering, the diners all looked up, passing their boring time by observing strangers. But this one look made them gasp. What a handsome young gentleman, what a lovely young lady—they wondered where this young couple had come from to visit, and how they ended up here.

“Young Master, Miss Kong Hou, the upper rooms are all vacant. I’ve reserved three adjacent rooms.” Lin Hu came down from upstairs. Seeing how the innkeeper and waiter wanted to speak but didn’t dare, he took out spirit stones and placed them on the table. “Send up hot water later.”

The innkeeper repeatedly agreed, bowing and expressing his thanks, then asked what they wanted to eat for dinner.

Lin Hu knew his young master wasn’t particular about food, so he turned his gaze to Kong Hou. Kong Hou said, “Just prepare a few of your specialty dishes.”

“Right away!” The innkeeper’s smile grew even wider. He turned and patted the waiter standing beside him. “Hurry and prepare—use the best ingredients.” Just from looking at Huan Zong and Kong Hou’s attire, he knew these weren’t ordinary people—they might even be cultivators with boundless magical powers. Most of these cultivators were generous with money but also difficult to serve. When greeting them, his heart had been racing with anxiety. Now seeing how easy-going this lady guest was, his eyes crinkled with joy.

After Kong Hou and the others went upstairs and looked at the carved wooden door with peeling paint, it was hard to believe this was the best inn in Three Trees City. Kong Hou turned to Huan Zong and said, “The common people here seem to be living rather difficult lives. That waiter who greeted us at the door was still wearing wet shoes.”

Huan Zong nodded and made an acknowledging sound, though he actually hadn’t noticed what the waiter looked like at all. “You should go back to your room and rest for a while.”

“All right.” Kong Hou pushed open the door. The room had been cleaned very tidily, but the worn furniture made the whole room look somewhat gloomy. The candlelight in the room was rather dim. Kong Hou took out an illuminating magical artifact from her storage ring and placed it on the table, then opened the window to air out the room.

The sky was overcast and there weren’t many people visible on the street. A man selling charcoal carried a half-basket of unsold charcoal, walking with unsteady steps. The left basket held unsold charcoal while a five or six-year-old child sat in the right basket. The child clutched a large meat bun and was eating it, the fur cap on his head covering half his face.

Kong Hou heard the child call the man “Father.”

“Father, there’s meat in this bun—you should eat some.”

“Sit still and don’t move.” The man said gruffly, “Your old man isn’t hungry yet.”

“Father, eat!”

“Believe it or not, I’ll give you a beating.” The man set down his load and took off his jacket to cover the child. “Don’t open your mouth to talk—if wind gets into your belly, you’ll suffer for it.”

The child held up the bun in his hand high, insisting on having the man eat it.

The man glared at him, bent down to take a bite, then picked up the baskets again and slowly walked forward.

Kong Hou stared at this father and son’s backs for a long time, until she could no longer see them, before withdrawing her gaze and walking to sit at the table. This kind of poverty and father-son affection was something Kong Hou had never experienced.

That waiter whose hands had turned bluish from cold yet still had to smile at guests, and that father whose life was hard yet still protected his child—they were all members of this cultivation world. Their lives were impoverished, yet they persisted in living, holding hope for the future, hope for the next generation.

She touched her chest—there was something sour there, something warm. Her spiritual platform, which hadn’t stirred for a long time, began to loosen. The sound of wind outside the window became exceptionally clear. Rising to sit cross-legged on the bed, Kong Hou closed her eyes and entered a meditative state.

Sitting under the illuminating artifact reading a book, Huan Zong put down the book in his hands and rose to walk to the window. The surrounding spiritual energy surged, all pressing toward the room next to his, as if something there was attracting them. His hand preparing to open the window paused. After a moment’s hesitation, he lowered it.

“Young Master.” Lin Hu walked in. “Miss Kong Hou’s side…”

“She should have entered meditation.” Huan Zong didn’t turn his head. “Go down and tell the inn’s people not to disturb her these few days. Give them extra money for the lodging.”

“Very well, Young Master.” Lin Hu’s expression was somewhat strange. “We just received a flying message talisman from the sect. The sect master and several peak masters seem worried that something has happened to you outside.”

He handed the flying message talisman to Huan Zong. Huan Zong input his spiritual energy into it and quickly read through all the content, his brows furrowing. Kong Hou had said that buying specialties for people at the sect when traveling would make them happy—why did his master and martial uncles not seem happy at all?

Could it be that they didn’t like the things he had sent through the courier station?

“What is the next town?” Huan Zong put away the flying message talisman, looking thoughtful.

“It’s Yi City.”

“Are there any worthy purchases there?” Huan Zong asked.

Lin Hu was momentarily stunned. “There are. Yi City is most famous for its embroidery.”

“I understand.” Huan Zong nodded slowly. His master and martial uncles didn’t seem to value food much—if he bought some embroidery to bring back, they should like it somewhat better.

On the first day, Kong Hou didn’t wake from meditation. Huan Zong meditated for the day.

On the second day, Kong Hou didn’t wake from meditation. Huan Zong bought several story books from a dilapidated bookshop in the city.

By the third day, Kong Hou was still in meditation. When Huan Zong went downstairs, he saw several Qi Refining stage cultivators berating the waiter, who knelt on the ground wiping up water stains, his trouser legs completely soaked through.

Huan Zong never liked meddling in such matters. He walked past them with an indifferent expression, but inadvertently glimpsed the waiter’s finger joints, swollen from cold. Remembering Kong Hou saying the common people here didn’t have easy lives, he stopped. He saw a cultivator kicking the waiter’s back, leaving large dirty footprints on his patched clothes.

“You’re too noisy.” Huan Zong looked expressionlessly at these several Qi Refining cultivators. “This is a public place—don’t make a commotion. What sect are you from to be so ignorant of propriety?”

“You little punk…” The cultivator who’d been kicking wanted to curse, but seeing the luminous runic patterns on Huan Zong’s clothes, he quickly closed his mouth and cupped his hands. “We rough fellows don’t know the rules and have disturbed your rest, Young Master. Please forgive us.”

Huan Zong looked down at the waiter’s back. “When you dirty someone’s clothes, you must compensate them.”

“You’re absolutely right, Young Master.” The Qi Refining cultivator nodded repeatedly, pulling out a handful of jade coins from his robe and stuffing them into the waiter’s hand. “This is all our fault.”

“I wouldn’t dare accept compensation from you distinguished guests.” How would the waiter dare accept these cultivator masters’ jade coins? He tried to return them, but none of these cultivators reached out to take them back.

“This is the money they’re compensating you—keep it well.” Huan Zong raised his hand, and the waiter kneeling on the ground stood up uncontrollably. He turned back in surprise to look at Huan Zong—so this noble young gentleman was also a cultivator?

Seeing the several cultivators hunching their shoulders and trying to sneak away, Huan Zong slightly raised his fair chin. “Leaving already?”

The several cultivators’ legs trembled in fright. Inwardly they groaned, but could only obediently walk back, each hanging their heads as they stood before Huan Zong.

“Don’t let me see you doing such things in the future.”

“Yes!” The cultivators hurriedly agreed.

Huan Zong nodded slightly and raised his fingers, indicating they could leave. Seeing this, the several cultivators thanked him while running off, no longer showing any of their former arrogance.

“Thank you for your help, Immortal Master.” The waiter walked before Huan Zong and bowed repeatedly in thanks, nearly kowtowing to him in gratitude.

Watching his humble manner, Huan Zong was silent for a long time before saying indifferently, “No need to thank me.” Walking out of the inn, he turned back for a glance. The waiter was carefully tucking the jade coins into his robe, afraid they might fall out, and even retied his belt tightly.

Seeing this scene, Huan Zong felt somewhat strange. He didn’t like meddling in matters that didn’t concern him, but today he had interfered, and it seemed he didn’t feel any aversion to it.

Taking out a paper umbrella from his storage ring—it was the one Kong Hou had held for him in the tree house a few days ago—Huan Zong opened the umbrella ribs and looked up at the room where Kong Hou was staying. It had already been three days—he wondered when this young lady would wake.

He went out for a walk and found a shop claiming to be a thousand-year-old establishment selling buns. Thinking Kong Hou might be interested in this, Huan Zong bought a few. Passing some young beggars, he stopped and tossed in some jade coins. When he returned to the inn, remembering Kong Hou was still in meditation and seeing Lin Hu coming downstairs, he stuffed the buns into Lin Hu’s arms.

“Young Master?” Holding the warm buns, Lin Hu was somewhat confused. What did this mean?

“Eat more—it’s good for your health.” Huan Zong put away his umbrella and went upstairs expressionlessly. Passing Kong Hou’s door, he took out several spirit-gathering talismans and stuck them on the door. Instantly, even more spiritual energy surged into the room.

Satisfied with the rich spiritual energy, Huan Zong returned to his own room and took out his life-bound sword. This sword looked extremely ordinary—a black hilt, a silver-gleaming blade. It had no gems embedded in it, no sword tassels hanging from it. The only thing that could be called a highlight was the dark pattern on the blade.

Gripping the hilt, the sword body emitted a humming sound. Huan Zong covered his chest and coughed violently several times. The blade reflected his emotionless eyes. Staring at the eyes in the blade for a while, Huan Zong touched his index finger to the blade, and the humming finally stopped.

“Young Master.” Lin Hu’s voice came from outside the door.

“Come in.”

Lin Hu entered to see Huan Zong holding the sword. He took several large strides to stand before Huan Zong. “Young Master, you…”

“Finished eating the buns?” Huan Zong put away the sword, interrupting Lin Hu’s words.

“I ate them.” Lin Hu’s expression went blank for a moment.

“Were they good?” Huan Zong asked again.

“They seemed… all right?” Lin Hu felt buns were just buns—there was nothing particularly good or bad about them.

“So the taste was mediocre.” Huan Zong frowned. A bun shop with mediocre taste dared call itself a thousand-year-old establishment—could it mean a thousand years of being ordinary?

“Young Master, in your current condition, it’s best not to use your sword lightly.” Though Huan Zong had interrupted him, Lin Hu hadn’t forgotten what he wanted to say. “I’m afraid it will worsen your injuries.”

“I know.” Huan Zong lowered his eyelids, his face expressionless. “I’m very clear about the state of my own body.”

Seeing Huan Zong’s emotionless appearance, the worry in Lin Hu’s heart grew heavier. Though the medicinal ingredients were difficult to obtain, the most difficult thing was his state of mind. How would his young master pass the inner demon tribulation with this desireless, undemanding mentality?

“Young Master…”

Huan Zong suddenly stood up. “Kong Hou is awake.” He walked to the door, pulled it open, and walked out.

Lin Hu was stunned for a moment before following.

Kong Hou opened her eyes. The illuminating artifact on the table had long since gone out from lack of spiritual energy input from its owner. The candles had also burned out. The sky outside wasn’t very clear, making the room somewhat dim.

She let out a long breath. This meditation session had greatly advanced her cultivation. Her original Foundation Establishment fifth stage cultivation had become Foundation Establishment ninth stage. After cultivating a bit longer, she might achieve Foundation Establishment Great Perfection and attempt to break through to Core Formation stage.

A knock sounded at the door. She opened it to find Huan Zong with his face like jade standing outside. Looking at such a handsome Huan Zong, Kong Hou remembered she hadn’t washed or groomed for several days, and her expression instantly changed dramatically. “Huan Zong, let’s talk later.”

Watching the door close in his face, Huan Zong looked back at Lin Hu in puzzlement.

Lin Hu shook his head. “Young Master, don’t look at me—I don’t understand Miss Kong Hou’s meaning either.” If he understood women, he wouldn’t have lived several hundred years without even finding a dao companion.

Huan Zong reached out to peel off the spirit-gathering talismans on the door. With a light rub, the talismans instantly turned to powder. Lin Hu didn’t understand—was his young master doing good deeds without leaving his name? Fortunately this wasn’t pursuing a sweetheart, or with his young master’s way of doing things, it would probably take a hundred years before the girl could understand his intentions.

“Miss Kong Hou, if you need anything, just call for me.” Huan Zong said, “I’ll have the inn prepare food for you.”

The door cracked open slightly from inside, revealing only half of Kong Hou’s face. “Huan Zong, thank you. I’ll come out after I finish washing up.”

Only then did Huan Zong understand why Kong Hou had closed the door just now. He nodded. “All right.”

So young ladies cared about such small matters? Huan Zong felt he seemed to understand girls’ habits a bit better.

The young lady’s hasty manner of closing the door just now had been somewhat charmingly adorable.

Outside the gates of Three Trees City, a flying vessel crashed down at the entrance. Several cultivators in somewhat bedraggled states rushed out in panic. One of them could barely stand, reluctantly supporting himself with a sword to avoid collapsing.

“Senior Brother, this is a small city—there’s probably no expert stationed here.” The green-robed female cultivator’s face was deathly pale. She had no strength to wipe the blood from the corner of her mouth. “Perhaps we should go somewhere else—at least we won’t implicate the people in the city.”

But they no longer had spiritual power to support the flying vessel to continue forward. Which direction should they go to lead away the people chasing them?

“It’s too late.” The blue-robed man called Senior Brother looked back at the rolling dark clouds in the distance and the black birds screeching harshly. He pulled his sword from the ground. “You all run west. I’ll hold them off for a while.”

“Senior Brother…”

“Don’t waste words. Do you want everyone in this city to die with us?” The blue-robed man said with a stern face, “All of you go.”

He suppressed the spiritual energy running wild in his chest and flew toward the sky with his sword.

“Senior Brother!” The green-robed woman wiped the tears from her eyes and said to the several young junior brothers and sisters behind her, “You go—I’ll help Senior Brother!”