Senior Sister... where did she bring him?
He tried to assess his internal condition.
He didn't dare to easily mobilize his spiritual energy.
His newly formed meridians and dantian probably couldn't withstand the full circulation of spiritual energy yet; they needed time to recover and adapt.
He had to seal his spiritual energy and take it slowly...
A surge of sword intent condensed at his fingertips again, and feeling its heart-pounding power, he was very satisfied.
This sword intent was finally cultivated to completion, and it was terrifyingly powerful.
He was indeed a genius.
...
He didn't know how long he had been unconscious.
He felt like it had only been a day or two, right?
Bored from lying down, he got out of bed.
He walked to the window and pushed open the small bamboo window.
More light instantly streamed in.
Fang Xuan squinted against the piercing sunlight, raising his bandaged hand to block it.
He didn't know why, but all his other injuries had healed, only his hands were still bandaged.
Before his eyes was a vibrant green valley.
A stream meandered through, and the outline of a small town was visible in the distance.
Nearby was a small herb garden, planted with tender green seedlings that had just sprouted.
His gaze lingered.
Because not far outside the window, several lush trees were blooming with unknown pale pink flowers, swaying gently in the wind.
The trees... were green? And flowering?
His last memory was at Qingyun Sect, and back then it seemed to still be... deep winter?
No way... just how long had he been unconscious?
Was it not just a day or two?
He lowered his bandaged hand, his mind in a turmoil.
What happened to Qingyun Sect in the end?
Did Old Ancestor Dry Bone die? What about the peak lords and elders? Is that bastard Lu Qingsong dead or not?
...
He sat back on the edge of the bed and called out to the system in his mind.
The first thing that caught his eye was the mountain of spirit buns piled up in the corner of the system space.
A quick glance showed at least several thousand, piled up like a small hill.
Fang Xuan: "???"
What happened?
Did the system automatically generate buns while he was unconscious?
With his head full of questions, he opened the system's history log and started scrolling up.
The records were dense, and the time span seemed very long.
【Detected that Master Ning Xian performed a forced action on training target Fang Xuan, host unable to resist. Action judged: deep intrusive contact and exertion of control, training value +10!】
【Ding! Detected that Master Ning Xian performed extensive physical contact on training target Fang Xuan, host unable to resist. Action judged: deep control, training value +8!】
【Ding! Detected...】
Similar records appeared one after another.
Fang Xuan looked at the "x6695 times" tally, unsure what to say.
...Unable to resist... How could I resist?
6695 times... Senior Sister, just how much did you do while I was unconscious...
...
Pushing open the bamboo hut's door, it creaked open.
It was indeed a secluded valley, smaller than Sword Peak, but with pleasant scenery.
Not far away was the herb garden he had just seen, planted with some herbal seedlings he didn't recognize.
Next to the bamboo hut, there was also a small patch of cleared land, empty, probably because they hadn't decided what to plant yet.
“Puji, puji.”
The dark Xiao Hei bounced out from the nearby grass, hopping closer.
It seemed to want to rub against Fang Xuan's leg, but he casually kicked it away.
Xiao Hei rolled twice from the kick, but didn't get angry, shaking its round body before hopping off to play by itself.
Fang Xuan ignored it, his gaze sweeping over the yard.
He didn't see Ning Xian.
There were also several potted flowers by the windowsill; this shouldn't be Senior Sister's yard.
Senior Sister wouldn't plant flowers; she liked to plant potatoes.
...
Unable to find Senior Sister, his feet grew restless.
Faint sounds of commotion drifted from the distant town.
Go to town to look?
Coincidentally, he also wanted to figure out what kind of place this was.
...
The small town was not far from the valley; it took about a quarter of an hour to walk to the town's entrance.
The town was small, with bluestone slab roads, and on both sides were scattered tiled houses and wooden huts, displaying various signboards and banners.
People came and went on the street, mostly common folk, dressed in coarse cloth garments and carrying shoulder poles.
Fang Xuan wore simple white cloth robes; although his hands were bandaged and his face was somewhat pale, his outstanding looks and tall, straight figure still made him stand out in this small town.
He attracted many curious glances.
He didn't pay much attention to these gazes, slowly walking down the street, curiously observing his surroundings.
The clanging of the blacksmith's hammer, women haggling in the cloth shop, children chasing and laughing...
There seemed to be no cultivators here; at least, he didn't detect any obvious spiritual energy fluctuations.
As he walked, his nose suddenly caught a tantalizing aroma of something toasted.
He followed the scent to a street stall.
He patted his body... Sure enough, he was penniless.
Forget spirit stones, he didn't even have a single mortal copper coin.
Just as he was feeling regretful, a small boy ran past him, hopping joyfully, holding two freshly bought shaobing, his face full of happiness.
Fang Xuan grinned, squatted down, and waved at the little boy.
“Come here, your uncle will do a trick for you.”
The little boy stopped, looking at him curiously, then at the shaobing in his hand, a little wary.
Fang Xuan extended his bandaged finger and lightly tapped the shaobing in the boy's left hand: “Look, you have two shaobing, wow—”
The little boy instinctively followed his movement and looked at his left hand.
“Now, there’s only one!”
Fang Xuan withdrew his hand.
The little boy froze, then looked down.
His right hand was indeed empty; only the shaobing in his left hand remained!
His eyes widened, his mouth formed an O-shape. He looked at Fang Xuan, then at his empty right hand, his face full of disbelief.
“Alright, the trick is done. Hurry home and find your mom.”
Fang Xuan patted his head, finding the feel quite nice, and casually gave a gentle push.
Still in shock, the little boy dazedly mumbled, “Oh.”
Then, holding the remaining shaobing, he walked away, looking back every few steps, seemingly still pondering how his other shaobing had vanished.
Meanwhile, Fang Xuan pulled out the vanished shaobing from behind his back, blew on it, and took a bite.
The crust was crispy, the inside soft.
“Delicious.”
He slowly ate the shaobing while continuing to stroll through the town.
The warm sunlight fell on him, the bustling sounds of the street, the scent of daily life, the warm shaobing in his hand...
All of it gave him a sense of peace, as if he had entered another world.
But in his heart, he still thought of Ning Xian.
It was still early. Would Senior Sister be shopping in town?
Or... waiting for him somewhere?
He wanted to buy some vegetables to take back.
Senior Sister's cooking was delicious. If he brought some vegetables back, Senior Sister might be happy and cook him a good meal.
Hehehe...
A good idea, but he seemed to have no money.
...
“Boss, can't you hammer iron?”
The old blacksmith was focused on hammering iron and was startled by the sudden shout, almost misplacing his hammer.
He looked up and saw an unfamiliar, handsome young man.
Although bandaged and pale, his eyes were clear, and his grin showed no malice.
He wiped some sweat and grumbled, “Young man, don’t mess around. Be careful of sparks hitting you.”
Fang Xuan wasn't annoyed; he pointed to a bent iron rod nearby: “Boss, is that one useless? I can straighten it for you. How about giving me some wages to buy rice?”
The old blacksmith looked at him suspiciously, then at the bent iron rod that needed to be re-melted and re-forged: “With your physique?”
Although the iron rod wasn't very thick, straightening it by hand required considerable strength.
“Just let me try.” Fang Xuan walked over and casually picked up the iron rod, which still had some residual warmth.
The old blacksmith had wanted to stop him, but seeing his casual movements, he simply watched, curious.
Fang Xuan gave a gentle bend, and the iron rod instantly became straight, appearing even straighter than it was before it was bent.
The old blacksmith's eyes instantly went wide.
Fang Xuan handed the straightened iron rod back to the still-stunned old blacksmith, patted non-existent dust from his hands: “Boss, how about paying me some wages, ten copper coins?”
The old blacksmith took the iron rod, examining it repeatedly.
When he looked at Fang Xuan again, his eyes had completely changed.
...
Leaving the blacksmith's shop.
Fang Xuan weighed the ten copper coins in his hand, feeling even better.
Alright, he had money now.
He could buy vegetables...
Rate on N.U.
