novelhk Page 99
Page 99
It was Feng Baobao.
Zhang Yunyuan pointed to the cup of tea, which was described as utterly toxic:
"I told you, the water for brewing tea should just boil once it comes to a boil, it shouldn't be boiled for too long."
Feng Baobao walked over, bent down, her nose almost touching the rim of the cup, and carefully observed it for a while before raising her head and drawing a serious conclusion:
"The water needs to boil before it can be soaked. The longer it boils, the more thoroughly it will soak."
Zhang Yunyuan: "..."
He felt that most of the credit for his patient cultivation over the past twenty years should go to the person in front of him.
Ever since she settled in this courtyard, Feng Baobao has taken on the responsibility of "taking care" of his daily life.
Her care was guided by a unique and unquestionable logic.
She can sweep the floor until it shines, but she ignores the dust on the tables and windowsills.
The instruction is "sweep", not "dust".
If you ask her to make the bed, she can fold the bedding into perfectly square shapes with sharp edges, but whether the pillowcases are straight or the sheets are flat is not within her consideration.
The instruction is "fold the blankets", not "make the bed".
She was like a fully drawn bow, using every bit of strength precisely on the core of the command, never wasting a single bit on peripheral matters.
Zhang Yunyuan had long given up arguing with her about "human relationships" and "flexibility." He even began to find a unique kind of fun in her extreme and strange "precision."
He picked up the cup of scalding hot and bitter tea, blew on it, and carefully took a sip.
A strong, bitter, burnt taste instantly swept over the tip of the tongue, but strangely, the aftertaste was also exceptionally strong, with a domineering sense of clarity that invigorated the spirit.
He glanced at Feng Baobao beside him, who still had a "mission accomplished, awaiting evaluation" expression on her face, and suddenly chuckled, shook his head, and put the strangely flavored tea into his mouth again.
This quiet little courtyard, because of her presence, is always filled with these kinds of "accidents" that make people both laugh and cry, but it's not too bad...
He put down his teacup, slowly closed his eyes, and focused his mind on his dantian.
That chaotic ocean was more vast and more condensed than it had been a few years ago.
His current cultivation level has already firmly reached the pinnacle, and he is only a thin veil away from the legendary "acquired" realm.
But this thin layer of paper is as tough as the difference between heaven and earth.
He could clearly feel the existence of that barrier, but no matter what he did, he couldn't break through it.
It was as if there was a rule in the dark that restricted the beings of this Dharma-ending Age, preventing them from peering upwards even a little.
A soft sigh, carrying a sense of tranquility born of weathering storms, and a touch of helplessness.
A burning, stinging sensation suddenly came from his left wrist!
Zhang Yunyuan suddenly opened his eyes, his pupils contracting sharply.
He rolled up his sleeves, and on his wrist, the bruise left from many years ago, which had almost blended into his skin, was now glowing with a faint red light, as hot as a red-hot branding iron.
A rapid, faint, yet incredibly familiar surge of Qi followed the mark and forcefully crashed into his soul!
This breath...
It's my second senior brother, Zhang Huaiyi!
Twenty years have passed, a full twenty years without any news. This communication technique originating from the Secret Painting Sect has finally been activated once again!
The signal was weak and urgent, meaning that the other party had either encountered a huge problem or made a major discovery that they had to share immediately.
The calm on Zhang Yunyuan's face was instantly shattered, and for the first time, real ripples stirred in his usually placid eyes.
He didn't hesitate.
"Baby, pack your things."
Feng Baobao didn't even ask why, and turned around and went into the house.
A moment later, she came out carrying a tattered bag containing only two changes of clothes, some dry food, and a shovel that she had used for many years and which was worn smooth by the use of it.
Zhang Yunyuan looked at the shovel, and the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.
He stood up, closed his eyes, and carefully sensed the increasingly clear guidance on his wrist.
Direction: Southwest.
Shu Road is difficult, and it is difficult to ascend to the sky.
But for Zhang Yunyuan and Feng Baobao now, towering mountains are like flat ground.
Following Xi Qing's increasingly clear directions, the two traveled swiftly, eventually venturing deep into a remote, almost isolated mountain village in the heart of Sichuan.
The village is small, with the sounds of chickens and dogs, and wisps of smoke rising from chimneys, presenting a peaceful and tranquil scene.
At the end of the signpost was an unremarkable, ordinary farmhouse.
The house has earthen walls and thatched roofs, with a small courtyard surrounded by fences. Some dried vegetables and farm tools are drying in the yard, making it no different from the surrounding farmhouses.
At this moment, Zhang Yunyuan's heart began to beat faster uncontrollably.
He slowly pushed open the half-closed wooden door.
In the center of the courtyard, a man was chopping firewood with his back to them.
He wore a faded coarse cloth shirt, his figure was slightly hunched, and his gray hair was casually tied back with a strip of cloth. He looked like an ordinary old farmer, bent over by the years.
Hearing the door open, the man paused in his chopping wood.
He turned around slowly, somewhat stiffly.
The moment his gaze met Zhang Yunyuan's, the air in the entire courtyard seemed to freeze.
It was a face weathered by time.
The deep wrinkles, as if carved by a knife and axe, are full of the marks of time. His skin is dark and rough, and there is no trace of the spirited genius he once was on Longhu Mountain.
Only those eyes, the moment they saw Zhang Yunyuan, remained as sharp as ever, but within that sharpness lay too many indescribable complex emotions.
It was shock, it was disorientation, it was the excitement of a long-awaited reunion, and it was also the endless vicissitudes left by the passage of time.
The only difference was that the aura surrounding him was even stronger than it had been twenty years ago.
They have already reached the level of being halfway to the pinnacle.
This man was none other than Zhang Huaiyi!
Looking at his second senior brother, whom he could hardly recognize, at his hands covered in thick calluses, gripping the axe handle tightly, and at the simple stove in the corner of the courtyard, Zhang Yunyuan felt a thousand words welling up in his heart, but in the end, they only turned into a labored call.
"...Second Senior Brother".
Zhang Huaiyi's lips trembled as he looked at Zhang Yunyuan's young face, which was almost unchanged from twenty years ago, as if he were seeing time reversed.
"Junior...Junior Brother..."
His voice was hoarse, as if it had been ground by sand and gravel.
The two stood facing each other across a small courtyard, letting the mountain wind blow, stirring up the fallen leaves on the ground and also stirring up the myriad thoughts that had long been buried in their hearts.
Just then, Zhang Huaiyi's gaze passed over Zhang Yunyuan and landed on the figure standing quietly behind him.
When he saw Feng Baobao's delicate face, which had remained unchanged for decades, he realized that she was a beautiful woman.
He was struck dumb, as if by lightning!
His pupils suddenly shrank to the size of a pinhead!
The heavy wood-chopping knife slipped from his hand and fell to the ground with a sharp, piercing sound.
He reached out, his hand trembling as he pointed at Feng Baobao. For the first time, a look of horror appeared on his weathered face, and his voice became sharp and distorted with extreme shock.
"Feng... Feng Baobao?!"
He gasped in astonishment, as if he had witnessed some impossible miracle.
"It's Fourth Brother's daughter?! She...she's still alive?!"
Zhang Huaiyi staggered forward two steps, grabbed Zhang Yunyuan's arm with such force that he almost crushed his bones, and his eyes were bloodshot.
"What on earth is going on?! Tell me now!"
He was extremely agitated and roared intermittently.
"Back then, my fourth brother brought her to us, saying that she was suffering from a strange disease and would not live much longer."
We tried everything, even resorting to the power of the Eight Extraordinary Techniques, hoping to defy fate and change her destiny... but we still failed!
Finally, the fourth brother held her lifeless body and left in sorrow, disappearing without a trace...
This has become the biggest knot in my heart!
I always thought... I always thought she was already...
Seeing him on the verge of collapse, Zhang Yunyuan quickly supported him and channeled a gentle stream of Qi into his body to calm his mind.
As the sun set, it cast long shadows of the two of them.
Looking at the sunset on the horizon, Zhang Yunyuan slowly recounted the past events that had been buried in the Twenty-Four Solar Terms Valley.
From how he met Wugensheng, how he was entrusted with something, to how he obtained a miraculous medicine called "Returning Soul Grass" by chance, which ultimately pulled the dying Feng Baobao back from the brink of death.
He concealed the existence of the system, attributing everything to the elusive yet most explainable word "chance."
Zhang Huaiyi listened quietly, his expression gradually changing from initial shock to realization as Zhang Yunyuan recounted the story, and finally culminating in a long, melancholic sigh.
Chapter 115 Past Events Like Smoke, The Mystery of a Close Friend
The afterglow of the setting sun bathed the entire courtyard in a warm orange-red hue, while birds chirped under the eaves as they returned home, adding to the tranquility.
Zhang Huaiyi sat blankly on the small stool, digesting the torrent of information brought by Zhang Yunyuan that was enough to overturn his understanding of the past twenty years.
He would glance at Zhang Yunyuan one moment, and then at Feng Baobao, who was squatting in the corner of the yard, curiously poking an ant with her finger. The expressions on his face were as varied as if he had opened a dye shop.
After a long while, it was as if he had finally woken up from a long dream, and he exhaled a long, long breath.
That breath seemed to carry away all the confusion and regret that had accumulated in his heart for twenty years.
"So...that's it..."
He muttered to himself, his voice hoarse, carrying a hint of relief.