Chapter 349: The Twenty-Third of the Twelfth Lunar Month

While Pan Yun was leaping through the valley with a bucket, picking snow, Miao He and Miao Zhen had also gotten up; with a whoop, they broke into a run toward the cave to see Pan Yun.

With such heavy snow, Little Xiao Shishu was sure to come out and play, and they wanted to play together.

But they had barely run two steps before Wang Feiyin blocked their way.

He pointed at the shovel and broom in the corner and said, "What are you standing around for? Go sweep the snow!"

The two silently turned around; Tao Yanbai, a step behind them, said nothing and turned around as well to fetch the shovel.

In the end, none of the three managed to take a single step toward the mountain—Wang Feiyin wouldn't let them go see her, and even assigned them a heavy cultivation task.

"Especially Yanbai and Miao He—Long Hushan's alchemy path is not worth mentioning; if you want to truly master it, you still have to study at our Mount Sanqing."

"You only have a little over three months a year on the mountain—if you don't take this chance to study, when will you ever stop wasting time?" Wang Feiyin used Wang Cong as a cautionary example. "Don't be like your senior brother, who seems to know a bit of everything but actually knows nothing well—he only learned a little of everything."

Tao Yanbai and Miao He lowered their heads and agreed.

Wang Feiyin turned to Miao Zhen and said, "Long Hushan's talismans and celestial divination are second to none—you must study them with care. If there's something you don't understand, ask your Fourth Xiao Shishu. In another two years, once you graduate from the Academy, I'll send you to Jingcheng."

"Your master's celestial divination is no worse than those people from Long Hushan, but to stay by your master's side, it's best to take the ordination exam like your Second Senior Brother, so you can come and go in the palace freely."

Yin Song and the others had their office inside the imperial palace; especially as an official of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices' Bureau of Astronomy, their working hours were not only longer than ordinary officials', but also somewhat reversed, day for night.

After all, observing the heavens at night was part of their duties.

The palace had an observatory and special instruments for stargazing; if Miao Zhen wanted to advance further in celestial studies, taking the ordination exam and entering the palace was a necessary path.

Miao Zhen solemnly agreed, and they finally stopped thinking about going to find Pan Yun to play.

Both sides were absorbed in cultivation, and time passed quickly; soon it was the twenty-third of the twelfth lunar month.

In Jiangnan, the Little New Year was celebrated on the twenty-fourth of the twelfth lunar month.

On the Little New Year, besides a thorough housecleaning, one had to offer sacrifices to the Kitchen God and prepare a generous offering.

Quite a few households had taken out the blessing bags from the Mountain God Temple.

During the temple fair, basically everyone in the family who could move went; everyone queued up, and each person could get one blessing bag and a packet of medicinal herbs.

Setting aside the medicinal herbs, the rice in the blessing bags had mostly been eaten by now, but many households had still kept one blessing bag, saving it specially for today.

The rice from the blessing bag was set to soak; they planned to start steaming it in the latter half of the night, and at dawn the next day on the Little New Year, offer it to the Kitchen God, then share the blessed rice among themselves.

There were seven kinds of blessed rice, each a different color; once steamed, they were black tinged with red, dotted with specks of yellow—exceptionally beautiful.

Of course, once steamed through and cooked, they were also exceptionally delicious.

Before the sky had even darkened, the children were already looking forward to it, running back and forth around the basin where the blessed rice was soaking.

In Fenshui Village below Mount Sanqing, nearly every household had taken out their blessed rice to soak; their lives were a little better off than those of families outside, but the blessed rice carried no ordinary meaning.

They too chose to soak the blessed rice today, and use it tomorrow to offer to the Kitchen God.

Wang Xiaojing was leading a group of little friends to gather dried persimmons when he heard the clatter of hooves; he looked up and saw Wang Cong, travel-worn, sitting on horseback, reining in to slow down as he neared the village entrance.

Wang Xiaojing's eyes lit up and he waved vigorously. "Cong-ge! Cong-ge—"

Wang Cong reined in his horse, which trotted forward with a clop-clop. "Xiaojing, are you on holiday? Is your grandfather home? I need to board my horse at your place."

As he spoke, Wang Cong rode past Wang Xiaojing.

Wang Xiaojing got a mouthful of dust; Wang Cong turned his head back hard. "Sorry about that—the horse has been running too long and is in a temper, it's a bit out of control right now…"

Wang Xiaojing spat twice to get the dust out, and shouted at Wang Cong, who was already nearly out of sight: "My grandfather's home—"

Wang Cong rode straight to the tea shed, where Old Man Wang was indeed cleaning up.

He patted the panting horse with affection and agreed at once. "Just leave it to me with peace of mind. We've got straw at home, and I'll have Xiaojing go cut some fresh grass and greens to feed it along with that."

Wang Cong pulled out a string of coins and handed it to him. "Also soybeans—mix some bean feed in for it."

Old Man Wang pushed the money back. "How much can one horse eat? No need for money."

Wang Cong pressed it into his hand and gave it a pat. "This horse eats more than a person, and more expensively too—it's got a big appetite. Remember to feed it the beans."

With that he turned and left; Old Man Wang chased after him for five or six steps but couldn't catch him back.

Wang Cong used Wu Gong to speed up the mountain.

Wang Feiyin, perhaps having foreseen that his son would return today, had been loitering in front of the mountain gate since early morning; at one point he even went down the mountain for a circuit, ostensibly to "check on the Mountain God Temple."

After coming back down from the mountain, he kept loitering on the square in front of the mountain gate.

Master Xuanmiao usually practiced her sword on the square; today, with this extra person pacing back and forth, her mood grew restless too.

She simply sheathed her sword, calculated on her fingers, and said, "Senior Brother, stop pacing—Cong'er is already back." Wang Feiyin: "I can already hear the footsteps. Do I need you to calculate that?"

Wang Feiyin stood before the mountain gate with his hands behind his back, finally no longer pacing back and forth.

Wang Cong skirted the Hanxing Pool and flew up to the mountain gate; Wang Feiyin saw him appear, and the corners of his mouth lifted of their own accord.

He looked him up and down, saw that his limbs were intact, that aside from being a bit thinner and a bit paler, his breathing was steady, with no external wounds and no sign of internal injury; he nodded and said, "Not bad. Is it your brain that's improved, or your Wu Gong? Or did you simply not earn any money?"

Wang Cong patted the jade pendant at his waist and said, "Earned it."

His eyes shone. "The money I earned this time is enough for our Daoist temple to use for three years. Little Xiao Shishu and the junior brothers and sisters can use body-tempering medicine freely."

Wang Feiyin nodded. "That's quite a sum. Your Third Xiao Shishu also brought back over sixteen thousand taels; with that added, the temple can manage for five or six years without a problem."

Wang Cong was mildly surprised. "Third Xiao Shishu and Fourth Xiao Shishu earned that much?"

Master Xuanmiao passed by on the side. "Sold your Little Xiao Shishu to earn it."

Wang Cong didn't press for details—Fourth Xiao Shishu couldn't really have sold Little Xiao Shishu. He said excitedly, "Then I can set aside more money as capital."

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"No," Wang Feiyin shook his head, his face stern. "It means you can finally have time to cultivate."

"For at least five years, you won't have to scramble for a living—you can cultivate with focus."

Wang Cong's body stiffened, and the smile on his face nearly slipped. "Father, a man without long-term worries must have immediate ones—ow ow ow…"

Wang Feiyin twisted his ear and hauled him toward the rear courtyard. "Everything you say is right. But if you don't cultivate now, the next time you go out you may not come back in one piece. Those are your long-term and immediate worries. Get in there and cultivate!"

Wang Cong felt his father was getting carried away. "Father, you can't just because Little Xiao Shishu is a genius raise your expectations of me. Don't forget your original intention—you never used to force me to study martial arts or cultivate the Dao, you let me live as I pleased. How can you now, halfway through, start expecting your son to become a dragon?"

Wang Feiyin tightened his grip; Wang Cong cried out "Ow ow ow" and said loudly, "Easy, easy…"

Wang Feiyin: "I don't expect my son to become a dragon. My requirement has always been that your ability must match your ambition."

"You actually dared to ask your Little Xiao Shishu to make two spatial spaces for you, to carry these two things when you go out. Do you think you can hide it from anyone?"

"Cultivators who know about Sleeve-Space have their own ways of identifying the objects on your person. If they try to rob you, can you protect your things—and your life—under their hands?"

"And those who don't know about Sleeve-Space are even more terrifying," Wang Feiyin said. "Those men of the jianghu, the high officials and nobles—what is there they wouldn't dare do? Once they notice something unusual about you, they'd crack open your very bones just to see where you've hidden everything."

"To them, you're a freak, a treasure trove," Wang Feiyin said. "Can your little bit of cultivation protect you?"

Wang Cong opened his mouth, then said softly, "Fourth Junior Sister and Fifth Junior Sister also have…"

"Their cultivation isn't any worse than yours now," Wang Feiyin released his ear and said evenly. "Besides, they focus entirely on cultivation, never slack off, and now your Little Xiao Shishu stays by their side at all times—they don't need to worry about any of this."

Wang Cong's shoulders slumped. He asked, "Then how high does my cultivation need to be before I can protect these two jade pendants?"

Wang Feiyin held up four fingers and said, "At the very least, the peak of the Fourth Hour. Of course, if you're a genius and can cultivate to the Fifth Hour, or enter the Dao directly, that would be even better."

Wang Cong stared at Wang Feiyin's fingers, gritted his teeth, and said, "Fine, I'll cultivate!"

He was currently at the Third Hour of cultivation—among the jianghu, that counted as a third-rate expert. Ahem, meaning mid-to-upper level skill.

Advancing to the Fourth Hour wasn't very hard for Wang Cong, especially since he could convert internal force into elemental force, and could also absorb spiritual energy and transform it.

After all, Wang Cong belonged to the first-tier ranks; otherwise, back when he studied at the Long Hushan Academy, he couldn't possibly have graduated so early.

The reason he learned spells well and quickly was because the elemental force within his body supported him.

Others needed to reach the peak of the Fourth Hour, the Fifth Hour, before they could convert internal force into elemental force—but he wasn't like that.

Like Seeing Miao Zhen and Miao He, he had long ago grasped the conversion between the two, and could likewise draw in spiritual energy to cultivate.

He was just lazy.

Others used twelve parts of effort to cultivate; he used only one.

Wang Feiyin had urged him many times, afraid that one day those enemies of his outside would do something insane and drag him into it—Wang Cong's cultivation was too low; he wouldn't even be able to send a distress signal before he croaked.

But none of it worked.

This child had Tian Yixin on raising the family; his eyes were only on making money.

Yet the money he earned, he hardly spent on himself—instead he brought it all back to the Daoist temple to support his father, his martial uncles, and his junior brothers and sisters.

This made Wang Feiyin both heartache and sullen, unable to scold him properly.

Now, finally, there was something that could make him take the initiative to cultivate.

Wang Feiyin was overjoyed. Sure enough, sitting by and watching Little Junior Sister carve spatial arrays for him had been the right call. If he'd known this could force him to cultivate, he'd have gone to learn spatial arrays long ago—with his cultivation, he could carve them too.

But then, which book has spatial arrays written in it?

(End of chapter)