Old-fashioned Warmth

Not long after Chen Zui walked out of Luoyan City, a familiar mechanical prompt sounded in his mind.

“Ding! It has been detected that the Host has completed a special task: From the Heart, Seeking No Reward.”

“Task Evaluation: The Host’s actions this time did not utilize the ‘Beyond Doubt’ Trait, did not calculate the gain or loss of experience points, and were not driven by system tasks, but were purely from the heart.”

“Calculating rewards...”

Chen Zui raised an eyebrow.

“Congratulations to the Host for obtaining a permanent passive Trait: Old-fashioned Warmth.”

“Trait Effect: When the Host acts from the heart, if the benevolent deeds performed have a positive impact on the fate of others, a certain percentage of their future achievements will be returned to the Host as experience points.”

“The more far-reaching the impact, the higher the return percentage.”

“Note: This Trait is not triggered by the Host’s subjective will; it is based solely on the actual changes in the fate of others.”

Chen Zui paused for a moment; this was an unexpected pleasant surprise he had never considered.

“This damn system actually has a bit of a conscience,” Chen Zui thought with a wry smile.

Back in that small town, the reason he had agreed to help Little A-Man retrieve his father’s blade without activating Beyond Doubt was because, in his mind, it was simply the right thing to do.

It wasn't just some meddling.

Later, he had gone to the trouble of having Gu Yiyou escort Xiao Chengyan back and asked for an opportunity for Ye Zhibai to observe the sword to comprehend the Dao, all because he sincerely wanted to give them a hand.

He hadn't expected to trigger a task for no apparent reason.

Chen Zui looked toward Luoyan City and the direction of Grand Shuo behind it, murmuring to himself.

“Kid, I’ve placed a heavy bet on you. Don’t let me down. At the very least, you should have the life to take over your father’s position. Let me get a lot of experience points back. And Miss Ye, you’ll have to at least sit in the position of the Frost-Sigh Sect’s Sect Leader; it would be best if you could make the sect grow stronger.”

Having said this, he looked down at the long blade in his hand.

As for that little boy who wanted to practice martial arts to avenge his father, Chen Zui only hoped he could spend his life in peace and safety, never letting a single drop of blood touch this blade.

...

Two months later.

It was late spring, the third month, a time when orioles flit and grass grows tall.

Jiangnan.

Meiwu Town.

The town was built along the water, featuring white walls and black tiles, riverside docks, and covered walkways. The air was permanently filled with a moist scent of flowers mixed with the smell of cooking smoke.

At the east end of town was an unnamed bun shop.

The shop wasn't large, its storefront only about two zhang wide, with several square tables and long benches set up outside.

The proprietress was a woman in her thirties whom the townspeople called Yun'niang.

Her husband had been a boatman who didn't survive a bout of cold last year, leaving her and their eight-year-old son to depend on each other, making a living with this bun shop.

Yun'niang was quick-witted and agile—kneading dough, chopping filling, steaming, and collecting money; she could do the work of two people alone.

Her buns had thin skins and large fillings, and a single bite would fill one's mouth with juice. She was quite famous in Meiwu Town.

At this moment, Chen Zui was squatting at the entrance of the bun shop, munching on a meat bun with no regard for his image, his eyes squinted in satisfaction.

He wore a set of faded coarse cloth tunic, and his red-tasseled spear was leaned casually against the wall, with a rag used for wiping tables even draped over the spear shaft.

“Big Brother Chen, eat slowly, don't choke!”

A little boy carried a bowl of soy milk over and handed it to him carefully, his small face full of earnestness.

Chen Zui took the soy milk, gulped down a large mouthful, and rubbed the little boy’s head.

“Our Xiao Shitou really knows how to care for people.”

While efficiently tidying the steamer baskets, Yun'niang looked back at the pair, a gentle smile appearing on her plain face.

“Yun'niang, these buns you’re steaming are getting better and better.”

Chen Zui casually picked up another bun fresh from the steamer and took a large bite.

The meat juice overflowed and the dough was soft; it was indeed delicious.

“Only you have such a sweet tongue.”

Yun'niang gave him a look, but her hands didn't stop.

“I chopped the meat filling a bit finer today. How do you find the seasoning?”

“It’s perfect, absolutely perfect. Anything you make is perfect, Yun'niang.”

“Go on with you, you’re never serious.”

Yun'niang’s face couldn't quite handle his praise, and she turned around to knead the dough, though the tips of her ears quietly turned red.

The shop gradually grew lively.

Old Sun strolled in carrying a bowl of soy milk and sat down in his usual spot by the window.

He was a retired accountant who had never practiced martial arts in his life but loved hearing about the affairs of the martial world.

He had been coming much more frequently over the past month.

It was all because Chen Zui kept him hooked with anecdotes and strange tales of the martial world.

“Kid Chen, where did we leave off yesterday? Right, you were talking about that female disciple of the Frost-Sigh Sect who was drugged by a flower-thief in her bed. What happened after that?”

Chen Zui had a bun in his mouth.

“Later? Well, later she woke up and castrated the man with a single sword strike.”

Old Sun suddenly shuddered.

“That girl was too ruthless. Do you have any other stories?”

“Stories? I have plenty. It’s just that my throat is so dry it’s hard to tell them.”

Chen Zui shook the empty wine gourd at his waist.

Old Sun gave a cold snort.

“I’ll set a table for you at Dingxiang Tower in a bit.”

Chen Zui smiled and gave him a thumbs-up.

“Old Sun, you’re generous enough to have a bit of martial world heroism.”

Old Sun was clearly pleased by these words and happily stroked his beard.

“Yun'niang, I’ll have a steamer of buns too.”

“Coming right up!”

As she spoke, Yun'niang glanced at Chen Zui intentionally or otherwise.

In truth, she knew her buns weren't actually that amazing; it was just that this man, seeing a widow and her orphan were pitiable, came every day to support her business.

And although he had only been here for a month, he had already become one with everyone around him.

Because of him, the business of her bun shop had also improved.

Just then, Old Wang the fishmonger passed by the door carrying two wooden buckets on a shoulder pole and shouted inside.

“Brother Chen, the river fish are fresh today. Want a couple of crucian carp? Stew them for soup tonight!”

“Sure, save me two big ones,” Chen Zui called out.

“You got it!”

Not long after.

Shopkeeper Li from the tea house next door strolled over shaking a folding fan and greeted Chen Zui.

“Brother Chen, that third form of the ‘Wind and Snow Night Return Spear’ you mentioned yesterday—I pondered it all night and still can't figure it out. You said the word ‘Cold’ in that spear intent, is it caused by internal energy or by one's state of mind?”

Chen Zui took a bite of a bun and said indistinctly, “Shopkeeper Li, you run a tea house, why are you pondering spear techniques?”

“I may not practice martial arts, but I love pondering the underlying principles.”

Shopkeeper Li smiled and fanned himself.

“The principles in your spear techniques might just be connected to the principles of the Way of Tea.”

Chen Zui smiled and didn't reply.

He had been living in Meiwu Town for over a month.

Since parting at Luoyan City and returning that blade to A-Man in the small town, he had traveled all the way south to this peaceful Jiangnan water town.

There was no love or hatred, no grievances; there were only endless buns to eat and the soft Wu dialect to hear.

This tranquility almost made him forget he possessed a system and forget the blood and storms of the martial world.

“Let’s go, Old Sun, let’s get some drinks!”

Chen Zui stood up, settled the bill, and pulled Old Sun toward Dingxiang Tower.

Yun'niang watched this scene, her lips moving as if she wanted to say something but didn't. She simply lowered her head to continue kneading the dough.

Her movements as she kneaded were much gentler than before.