Chapter 119: Cold Disaster

Snow continued to fall lightly, the wind now present, now absent.

On the slanted roof, a patch of snow too heavy to hold slipped away, scattering fine snowflakes.

Three people sat on small stools at the kitchen door, sipping fish soup, exhaling thick white clouds of steam in unison.

Drinking fish soup is often a pleasure.

Especially on days like this, with cold wind and drifting snow, gathering together to sip soup is deeply comforting.

“The country has money now.”

Second Grandpa said, “These past few days, Teacher Qiao keeps coming to me. I’ve finally gotten a clear picture of this special talent reserve program.”

“Even when you’re not doing anything, you still get paid and receive benefits.”

“As for emergencies, even if you haven’t registered, if something major happens, folks from our village and nearby areas would naturally lend a hand anyway.”

“In the past, who ever had such good treatment?”

Chu Tianshu nodded; he’d heard about the special talent reserve program in the Ao District.

The country’s attitude toward special incidents and cultivators has changed several times.

In the mid-20th century, many special incidents were handled directly by elite soldiers from the military.

But later, to encourage development and other factors, large numbers of soldiers were demobilized, and many cultivators, enticed by the opportunities of the time, applied to leave the military and go into business.

That era, the world was still reeling from the aftermath of war and swept up in a wave of massive development; special incidents among the common people were endless.

The retired cultivators founded an “Occult Research Association,” recruiting large numbers of folk cultivators to assist with related incidents; though the pay wasn’t generous, they received certain conveniences and support.

But this Occult Research Association was truly a mix of all sorts—good and bad, genuine and fraudulent.

Many organizations listed within it were merely there to take advantage and didn’t care to do real work.

Once the economy improved, the authorities established the Special Capture Bureau instead, offering full and generous benefits, complete subordination and deployment, and clear duties.

In addition to recruiting members from outside, they also set up educational institutions linked to the Special Capture Bureau; those who passed the entrance exam could receive all training courses for free.

And then came these past few years.

Or rather, just recently, the “Special Talent Reserve” program was officially implemented.

Those who register as talents receive cultivation technique guidance and benefits even before doing any work.

“It’s not just because we have money—it’s also to respond to the growing trend of frequent special incidents.”

Chu Tianshu turned his head and said, “Teacher Qiao, you don’t need to tell me the details of your technique—just demonstrate one of its methods in front of me, alright?”

Qiao Xing nodded and smiled, “I’ve only just begun to develop a bit of mental force—don’t laugh at me.”

He raised his right index finger, lips moving slightly as he silently chanted a spell, then gazed ahead and jabbed the finger forward.

A snowflake about to fall, half a foot away, suddenly froze in midair.

It remained suspended for roughly two seconds, then resumed its descent.

This effect would have been hard to notice unless both observers had been paying close attention.

“Very pure.”

Chu Tianshu nodded slightly and took a sip of fish soup.

Though the amount of mental force was extremely small, its quality was indeed excellent.

If that’s the case, there’s no need to have Teacher Qiao switch to the Zongheng Secret Chant.

“Haha, showing off my knife before Guan Gong.”

Teacher Qiao said, “Seeing how good this mental force cultivation method is, I originally thought of getting you registered as a special talent.”

“But Second Grandpa Chu told me you already have an excellent technique—heard you even went to the Ao District as a case consultant, and now your skill is unfathomable.”

Chu Tianshu humbly replied, “Not bad.”

Speaking of the Ao District, he remembered he hadn’t called the pharmacy yet.

Forget it—I’ll contact them before bed.

As for Lin Baishui…

Chu Tianshu held his fish soup bowl in one hand, pulled out his phone, and opened the chat window.

【Are you there? Are you there? Are you there? I’m home, drinking fish soup at Second Grandpa’s.】

After a while, Lin Baishui replied with a GIF of a large yellow hand clenching tightly, thumb raised.

【Poor guy—I’ve been working overtime every day. The higher-ups predict possible snow disasters in the south soon; everyone’s preparing for cold weather, and we’ve got to watch out for special incidents causing trouble.】

【Wait for me—I’ll come straight to Second Grandpa’s with a fishing net after I finish my shift!】

He sent another emoji: a black puppy walking away into the snowstorm.

Chu Tianshu replied with a goodbye.

“Snow disaster?”

Second Grandpa, hearing him say the word, spoke up: “It’s been snowing for at least six or seven days straight—big snow, light snow, never stopping.”

“I checked the weather forecast—it’s going to keep snowing. If this continues, it’ll truly become a disaster.”

Second Grandpa looked toward the fields beyond the river.

“Luckily, most of our village’s farmland is leased to big households—we have surplus grain. Back in the old days, facing something like this would’ve broken our hearts.”

Teacher Qiao said seriously, “It’s not just about the fields. Our southern equipment isn’t built for cold resistance like the north’s.”

“If this truly becomes a snow disaster, transportation, water, electricity—all could fail.”

“Our school has already dismissed all students except the senior class. If the snow doesn’t stop in two more days, even the seniors might have to go home.”

Chu Tianshu sighed at this.

“When I saw this much snow today, I was actually happy—never thought it might become a disaster.”

He gazed at the accumulated snow outside.

Tiny snowflakes melted the moment they touched the skin.

But once they piled up, they became an unavoidable natural disaster—one you could only endure.

“Don’t worry so much. With our country’s current conditions, the chance of people freezing to death is still very low.”

Second Grandpa had lived through the truly hard times, so he remained relatively optimistic about this.

“Besides, I’ve watched weather forecasts for decades—they’re right about three out of five times.”

“Maybe tomorrow the snow will stop, and there won’t be any cold disaster at all.”

Chu Tianshu laughed heartily and raised his thumb: “Second Grandpa’s attitude is still the best.”

“Of course! Keeping a broad mind is the secret to longevity.”

Second Grandpa said, “Many folks in the village have been rushing to supermarkets and markets to stockpile goods—I didn’t go.”

“There are fish in the water, ducks behind the house, vegetables in the field—I planted Chinese cabbage. Even if buried under snow, you can dig out the heart and still eat it—maybe even sweeter and crisper.”

Teacher Qiao opened his mouth to speak, then stopped.

The countryside along the Jianghuai region is neither as poor as mountain villages nor as densely populated and transport-dependent as big cities, nor disconnected from the fields.

In a cold disaster, this place might be among the least affected.

But across the entire south, such places are rare indeed.

Teacher Qiao sighed and said no more.

With his modest means and abilities, overthinking would only lead to empty words, helplessness, and despair—he’d better just live his own life.

After finishing his fish soup, Chu Tianshu bid farewell to Second Grandpa and Teacher Qiao, opened his black umbrella again, and went for a walk.

When he reached the bridge, Second Grandpa picked up his fishing rod and turned on the radio.

Chu Tianshu gazed into the distance, thinking: he didn’t raise ducks—he should go to the supermarket and buy a few pieces of meat, some chicken and duck legs, and stock them in the fridge.

If a cold disaster cuts the power, the meat he bought would stay fresh at this temperature.

Also buy a few cases of drinks.

The medicinal wine he’d brewed at home had been consumed a lot—he needed to buy some baijiu to top it up.

He was too lazy to go back to charge his electric scooter, so he went to the supermarket, tied the wine and drinks together, stacked the meat on top, and carried it all away with one hand.

The supermarket owner, seeing how effortlessly he carried it, stared in amazement and couldn’t help asking the nearby clerk if it was even possible to lift it like that.

Judging by his expression, the owner would surely gossip about this to others later.

But with Chu Tianshu’s current strength, he didn’t care about such minor displays—he acted naturally and freely.

That night, he went to the field, cut a few heads of green cabbage, stir-fried them, simmered pork slices with egg soup, and cooked a pot of rice.

After eating, he called Fang Jun and Yin Fengxin on the phone and chatted for a long time.

“What? It’s really selling that well?”

“Of course, of course—I knew it would sell like this. I had a plan all along.”

“Alright, transfer the payment tomorrow—I’ll work out some new formulas.”

Hearing Yin Fengxin’s excited chatter about his online shop business, Chu Tianshu asked casually, “How’s your cultivation going?”

Yin Fengxin fell silent for a moment.

He said carefully, “I can now maintain my open-acupoint state for only fifty minutes.”

Chu Tianshu, having heard his silence, had thought he might be slacking off—but upon hearing this answer, he couldn’t help but praise him.

“Good! You’ve only been cultivating for a month and already have this result.”

“Though I said you’d developed a spiritual root, this is still faster than expected—excellent, excellent.”

Yin Fengxin hesitated, “Really that good? But I still dare not use electric stimulation to aid cultivation, and I don’t have your relentless discipline to enter cultivation anytime…”

Chu Tianshu made an “oh” sound.

“You’re measuring yourself against me? Then wait until your foundation approaches my level.”

Chu Tianshu smiled, “You’re already very fast—didn’t Fang Jun tell you how impressive this performance is?”

Yin Fengxin asked hesitantly, “At first, Junge was very eager to guide me, but after a week, when my awakening time approached half an hour, he stopped giving much guidance.”

“Every time I asked him, he’d just say it was average—at most, a tiny bit better than when he was my age.”

Yin Fengxin wasn’t stupid; he just didn’t understand cultivation well. By the time he reached this point, his tone grew suddenly aware.

“Junge—is he…”

Chu Tianshu couldn’t hold back—he burst out laughing.

“He probably didn’t want you getting arrogant or complacent, hahaha—purely out of good intentions.”

Chu Tianshu coughed once. “No wonder he just mentioned that his custom-made Soul-Nourishing Playing Cards, sitting idle, could be used to cultivate some fierce spirits inside.”

“That’s good—you’ll push each other forward.”

Yin Fengxin perked up. “Brother Chu, rest assured—I’ll keep training hard.”

Chu Tianshu hung up the phone, propped his fist under his chin, and still couldn’t suppress a smile.

Fang Jun always looked so cool—he really wanted to see what expression he made when calling something “average.”

The laughter tugged at his ribs; Chu Tianshu touched the injury on his side.

A scar had already formed; with his physique, it should heal in another two days.

Chu Tianshu’s expression grew calm.

“Duan Zhong—his final state, how swiftly and fluidly he shifted his movements, as if air wasn’t resistance but pure assistance.”

Chu Tianshu pondered.

“My fist technique should also achieve this harmony with the environment.”

The lights in the house didn’t go out until long after.

The next morning, Chu Tianshu’s first act was to go to the bamboo grove behind the house and practice his fists.

Light snow still drifted through the air.

Snow blanketed the ground and the bamboo leaves—especially the bamboo stalks, which shed snowflakes with the slightest touch.

Chu Tianshu wandered through the grove, increasing his speed until he was darting in all directions; when he emerged, his sleeves were dusted with faint traces of melted snow.

He closed his eyes, deep in thought, then swept his sleeves and re-entered the bamboo grove.

Inside the house, still as a Luo Han refining his body; in the grove, wandering like wind seeking to ride the wind; before sleep, cultivating mental focus to nourish the soldier-soul.

Chu Tianshu settled into a regular routine.

But the weather grew colder by the day.

Snow had already fallen for six or seven days; since Chu Tianshu returned, not a single day in the past week had passed without snow.

News reports were now certain, speaking openly of the cold disaster.

Coastal cities, once famed for their perpetually warm climate, now had accumulated snow.

Many areas reported freezing rain in recent days, coating bare, blackened branches with thin layers of ice.

Roads and railway tracks froze over, growing thicker under the rain and snow.

(End of Chapter)