Xiao Jin stood at the doorway, holding a watermelon in his hands, somewhat at a loss.
Lu Fengmian glanced at him, pushed the door open, and stepped aside to let him in.
“Come in.”
Xiao Jin obediently followed him inside and, at Lu Fengmian’s gesture, placed the melon on the table. After closing the door, the two of them sat down on opposite sides of the table.
Lu Fengmian’s smile faded, his expression turning unusually serious.
Under that gaze, Xiao Jin unconsciously straightened his back.
“Xiao Jin.”
Lu Fengmian spoke.
“You may have already noticed that I forcibly raised my cultivation level in the secret realm.”
Xiao Jin nodded.
Of course he knew. He would never forget the sight of that single sword strike cleaving the giant serpent in two.
“There is a price for doing that,” Lu Fengmian said calmly. “Right now, I can hardly use any spiritual power at all.”
Xiao Jin froze.
He stared blankly at Lu Fengmian, as if he had not understood what had just been said.
Unable to use spiritual power?
His eyes began to sting again.
In just these few days with his Senior Brother, it felt as if he were about to shed all the tears he had saved up for a lifetime.
Lu Fengmian looked at the boy across from him—his eyes red, his lips tightly pressed together, looking as though he were about to burst into tears.
He sighed and took out a handkerchief from his sleeve, handing it over.
“It’s not that serious,” his tone softened. “It’s only temporary.”
Xiao Jin did not take the handkerchief.
“Senior Brother…”
His voice trembled, as if speaking required immense effort:
“This is all my fault. I’m the one who made you end up like this…”
Lu Fengmian looked at him.
From the moment they entered the secret realm until now, this child seemed to have been repeating similar words.
It was his fault. His problem. He had caused it.
Lu Fengmian stood up, walked around the table, and stopped in front of Xiao Jin.
Xiao Jin lowered his head, not daring to look at him.
A hand gently rested atop his head, bringing a trace of warmth.
“Alright, alright.”
Lu Fengmian’s voice came from above, gentle like the breeze of April.
Your Senior Brother doesn’t blame you. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.
Xiao Jin’s eyelashes trembled.
“Stop blaming yourself.”
That hand ruffled his hair, as if soothing a child.
At last, Xiao Jin’s tears could no longer be held back, dripping onto the wooden floor.
He bit down hard on his lip, refusing to let a sound escape.
Lu Fengmian withdrew his hand and once again held out the handkerchief.
“Wipe your face.”
Xiao Jin took it and wiped his face hastily.
Lu Fengmian returned to his seat, picked up the teapot on the table, and poured himself a cup of tea, waiting for his emotions to settle.
As he sipped his tea, something suddenly occurred to him. “By the way, is your home in Linzhou?”
“Yes,” Xiao Jin replied.
“That’s perfect.” Lu Fengmian set down his teacup. “If we’re heading back to the sect, we’ll definitely need to go to the main city first and take a teleportation array or a spirit vessel from there. If it’s on the way, we can stop by your home.”
He shifted his tone. “Of course, that’s only if you’re willing.”
Xiao Jin lowered his eyes.
The Xiao Family of Linzhou had once been a rather prestigious household. When he was young, their home had been lively, with visitors coming and going without end.
Later, when the Bai Family declined, relatives gradually stopped visiting. After the Bai Family broke off the engagement, those people avoided him even more, afraid of being tainted by his supposed misfortune.
But his parents had treated him very well.
And his grandfather as well.
Back then, it was his grandfather who had set aside his pride and begged for him to be allowed to join the Lingyun Sect. All the family’s remaining savings had been given to him to take away.
The truly disappointing one was himself.
He did not dare to go back.
He was afraid of seeing the expectation in their eyes, afraid they would ask about his cultivation, afraid they would discover that all the hope they had placed in him had amounted to nothing.
Lu Fengmian did not urge him. He lifted his teacup and drank slowly, his gaze resting on the street scene outside the window.
The room remained silent for a long while.
At last, Xiao Jin seemed to make up his mind. He clenched his hands tightly.
“Senior Brother, I want to go back and see them.”
He took a deep breath. “My family… they’ve always treated me well. It’s just that I haven’t made any progress, so I didn’t dare return.”
As he spoke, his eyes reddened again.
Lu Fengmian glanced at him, the corner of his lips curling into a faint smile. “Then we’ll set off early tomorrow morning.”
Xiao Jin nodded vigorously.
Lu Fengmian stood and patted him on the shoulder.
“Alright, don’t overthink it,” he said. “Go ask the landlady for a knife.”
Xiao Jin blinked. “A knife?”
Lu Fengmian pointed at the round watermelon on the table.
“We can’t let the melon the old lady gave us sit there forever,” he said. “Let’s see if it’s sweet.”
Xiao Jin hurried to his feet, pushed open the door, and went out.
After a while, he returned with a kitchen knife.
Lu Fengmian picked up the blade and, with swift movements, split the watermelon open. Bright red flesh and black seeds were revealed, juice running down along the cut as a fresh, sweet fragrance filled the air.
He sliced off a piece and handed it to Xiao Jin, then cut one for himself.
He took a bite.
It was indeed very sweet.
Just as the old woman had said.
The next morning, as the sky had only just begun to pale, the two of them packed their belongings and went downstairs.
The middle-aged woman was still standing behind the counter. Seeing them descend, she smiled and greeted them. “Leaving so early, gentlemen?”
Lu Fengmian nodded and asked for directions to the main city district.
“Oh, that’s quite far.”
“Leave through the east gate and follow the main road straight ahead,” the woman gestured enthusiastically. “It’ll take about two or three days. You two look like young nobles—why not rent a carriage from the carriage shop in the east of the city? It’ll be faster and less tiring.”
Lu Fengmian nodded thoughtfully.
He could barely use spiritual power now, and Xiao Jin’s cultivation would not be of much help. Walking all that way would be both time-consuming and exhausting.
Renting a carriage was indeed a good option.
“Thank you for the guidance, ma’am.” He cupped his hands in a polite gesture.
The woman waved with a smile. “No need to be so courteous. I wish you a safe journey.”
Lu Fengmian left the inn with Xiao Jin.
The early morning streets had not fully awakened, yet they were already beginning to bustle.
At the corner, a bun shop had set up its steamers, white vapor rising straight into the sky as the aroma drifted far and wide. Old farmers carrying baskets of vegetables on shoulder poles hurried toward the market.
A few steps further, golden fried dough sticks sizzled in a pot of oil, then were laid out in neat rows inside bamboo baskets.
Of course, before setting out, a hearty breakfast was essential.
Lu Fengmian stopped and glanced at a nearby wonton stall.
Several low tables were set outside, already occupied by a few customers eating with their heads lowered in enjoyment. Steam rose from the pot, mingling with the fragrance of scallions and meat, making it hard not to pause.
“Come, let’s get something to eat,” Lu Fengmian said.
The wonton stall’s owner was a thin middle-aged man in an apron, busy and sweating profusely.
Lu Fengmian found an empty seat and sat down; Xiao Jin sat opposite him.
“Boss, two bowls of wontons.”
“Right away!” the owner called, his hands moving without pause.
Soon, two bowls were brought over. More than a dozen plump wontons floated in white porcelain bowls, chopped scallions and kelp drifting in the broth, releasing an enticing aroma.
Xiao Jin lowered his head and took a bite.
The soup was fresh and savory, the wrappers thin and the filling generous.
As he ate, he could not help but sneak glances at the person across from him.
Lu Fengmian was eating with his head lowered, scooping up a wonton, blowing on it, then placing it in his mouth. There was not the slightest air of “how could a cultivator eat mortal food” about him.
Xiao Jin suddenly felt a bit happy.
In his heart, his Senior Brother had always seemed like someone far removed from the mundane world. Yet at this moment, he was sitting at a roadside stall with his Senior Brother, eating wontons that cost two copper coins a bowl, no different from the ordinary mortals hurrying to the morning market around them.
It was as though he and his Senior Brother shared a secret between them.