Chapter 9: These guys have problems

Early in the morning, just as the sky began to lighten, dozens of disciples had already gathered outside the kitchen.

When Ye Zhangqing opened the door, he was startled by the sight outside.

"Fellow senior brothers and sisters, you came too early, didn't you?"

"Not too early."

"Exactly, the day's plan starts in the morning; getting up a bit earlier is nothing."

Everyone shook their heads, heaven only knows how they spent the night for this bowl of braised noodles; they dreamed of slurping noodles.

Ye Zhangqing felt helpless; this bunch really went all out for a meal.

Without saying more, he let the crowd into the courtyard; Ye Zhangqing went to fetch the sauce, while the disciples consciously chopped wood, carried water, lit fires—all to eat the noodles a little sooner.

Not long after, the scent of the sauce wafted in the courtyard; dozens of Divine Sword Peak disciples sat together in groups of three or five, utterly unconcerned with appearance, just gulping down the food.

Each one wolfed it down, showing no trace of a sect disciple's demeanor, more like rustic country folk from the mundane world.

"Senior Brother Zhangqing, add another bowl of noodles."

"Two bowls."

"Here too."

Calls for more noodles rose and fell; even the female disciples had to have at least two bowls, let alone the male ones.

"Senior Brother Zhangqing, prepare extra noodles for lunch."

After eating, everyone washed dishes and cleaned up; someone told Ye Zhangqing that the braised noodles were never enough.

Upon hearing that, everyone present agreed, but Ye Zhangqing shook his head.

"No noodles at lunch; I've researched a new dish."

Eating noodles every meal gets boring; yesterday the system rewarded a new dish—stir-fried meat—so I can change things up for them.

It's a very ordinary home-cooked dish, using choice red-striped pork, fatty and lean mixed, simple to prepare; served with rice, it's absolutely delicious.

Hearing they'd have a new dish at lunch, many disciples' eyes lit up.

Before, they might not have had any expectations, but after tasting the braised noodles, everyone's opinion of Ye Zhangqing's cooking has completely changed.

"Good, good, good, Senior Brother Zhangqing, is there anything you need help with? Just say the word."

"Exactly, I have a few body-refining pills here; Senior Brother Zhangqing, you've worked hard—take them for cultivation."

"Senior Brother, please, I still have plenty of yesterday's pills."

"No conflict; if you think there's too many, just eat them like candy."

Hearing there was a new dish to eat, everyone eagerly pitched in—some volunteered to help, some offered pills, some powder.

Although Ye Zhangqing repeatedly waved them off, he ultimately had to accept these pills.

They'd rather have Ye Zhangqing eat the pills as candy than take them back.

"No need for help; just have the senior brothers and sisters show up on time."

There wasn't really anything needing help; hearing that, the crowd said no more, and after breakfast they left one by one.

Almost all were menial disciples, each with duties, so they naturally couldn't stay long at Ye Zhangqing's place.

On the other hand, Lu Youyou didn't leave; seeing her alone staying behind, Ye Zhangqing smiled and said.

"Senior Sister Youyou, do you have nothing to do today?"

"I have nothing to do every day."

Hearing that, Lu Youyou replied with a smile, while Ye Zhangqing twitched the corner of his mouth.

"I mean, Senior Sister Youyou, don't you need to cultivate?"

"I do need to, but I'm not in a rush; I'll cultivate tonight. By the way, Senior Brother, do you need any help?"

As an inner disciple, Lu Youyou's sole task is cultivation; everything else is handled for her.

But thinking about being able to eat the new dish at lunch, this girl had no mind for cultivation at all; she simply chose to stay here until noon.

Seeing that, Ye Zhangqing said nothing more and decided to cultivate first, since noon was still far off.

"Then Senior Sister, do as you please; I'll go cultivate for a while."

"I'll teach you."

Said without hesitation—a personal instruction from an inner disciple, something any disciple would cherish as a rare opportunity.

Moreover, to have such an opportunity, one must inevitably pay a steep price.

After all, inner disciples aren't accessible to just anyone, just as many menial disciples never recognized Lu Youyou's identity because they never got to meet inner disciples in their daily lives.

"All right."

Ye Zhangqing didn't refuse; afterward the two began cultivating in the courtyard.

Merely half an hour later, Lu Youyou started doubting life.

Perhaps because everyone's experiences differ; Lu Youyou has been surrounded by geniuses since childhood.

But Ye Zhangqing's talent is truly hard to put into words.

His comprehension is high; many cultivation matters, after hearing once he understands, and can even extrapolate, yet when he actually starts cultivating, he completely changes.

It's the feeling of understanding with the mind but not with the body.

Even basic martial techniques, Ye Zhangqing needs a long time to learn each movement.

In Lu Youyou's view, such simple techniques should be mastered after just a couple of tries.

Seeing the doubt in Lu Youyou's eyes, Ye Zhangqing himself couldn't help but blush.

"Senior Sister Youyou, why don't you rest first and I'll practice a bit on my own?"

"No, I can do it; if not, we'll just practice two more rounds, as the master said, diligence makes up for clumsiness."

Lu Youyou stubbornly said; this little girl is determined, having said she'd teach Ye Zhangqing cultivation, she will certainly see it through.

Having cultivated until just before noon, seeing the time was about right, Ye Zhangqing began preparing lunch.

And Lu Youyou was alone lost in thought, thinking about how to teach junior brother Ye Zhangqing.

No one paid her any mind; they took half a side of red-patterned pork, over a hundred jin, which should be enough for lunch.

They washed it, sliced it, marinated it, then prepared the ingredients, and also cooked rice.

While Ye Zhangqing was preparing lunch over here, menial disciples all over Divine Sword Peak had already begun silently calculating the time.

At the main square on the mountainside, over ten menial disciples were cleaning; three of them gathered together, drooling as they spoke.

"How much longer?"

"Don't rush, there's still half a Shíchén until Fàn diǎn."

"Damn it, still half a Shíchén left, I'm starving to death!"

"Stop the chatter, hurry up and finish sweeping then line up; if you're late you might miss out on food."

"Right, right, right, hurry up and finish then go line up."

For a bite to eat, the three of them instantly became as if they'd been injected with chicken blood, their brooms practically leaving afterimages in their hands.

Watching the three wield their brooms so fast they seemed about to smoke, the other menial disciples had complex expressions, eyes full of doubt.

"Shī xiōng, are they alright? Why do they feel abnormal?"

"I don't know; maybe they're practicing some martial skill?"

"No way, what martial skill has anything to do with a broom?"

"Seems not, holy crap, it's on fire—you guys, look quick!"

Following the pointing finger, they saw that one person's broom was literally blazing from being swung; in an instant everyone was utterly dumbfounded—just sweeping the floor, and you've set the broom on fire, what does that even mean?