Chapter 358: Soft-Hearted (Yesterday)

Tao Ji wasn't afraid of them; he flicked the dust off his robe and said, "The truth is unpleasant, isn't it? Don't forget, every family here has a share in my ancestral fields and vegetable plots."

At these words, both young men clenched their hoes and froze in place.

Tao Ji ignored them, snorted, and turned to leave.

As soon as he was gone, one of the young men couldn't hold back—he slammed his hoe onto the ground and shouted, "Father, how much ancestral land did we take from his family? Give it back!"

"Shut up."

"It's just a few fen of land—do we have to be branded by him for the rest of our lives? Give it back!"

"Even if we returned it, no one would take it—he's a Daoist Priest now and doesn't even live in the village…"

"That's his problem—whether he sells it or lets it lie fallow, it's his affair. But our family must return it."

The Tao clan chief spoke up, "Enough. How many years ago is that? The land's been mixed together long ago—could your father even separate it now?"

In the past, when the Tao clan chief spoke, the young man would have stayed silent even if he resented it.

But after this incident, the young man no longer feared the clan chief—he even began to doubt his right to lead, and spat sideways directly at him: "There must be some number! Fine, I'll return him an entire mu—I'd rather give up land than suffer this humiliation!"

The Tao clan chief, already flushed, turned purple at being openly defied; his vision blurred before his eyes.

He gripped the stool as he slowly collapsed, mumbling, "Rebellion, rebellion—you've all become lawless… This is retribution, retribution! It must be Tao Ji cursing the Tao family…"

The Tao clan chief fell backward onto the ground.

"Clan chief—"

The courtyard erupted into chaos.

Tao Ji, already past the gate, paused slightly and turned back to look.

Master Xuanmiao stopped too, softly saying, "You're a Physician—if you want to heal, go heal."

Among their group of senior and junior disciples, Tao Ji had the sharpest tongue, but also the softest heart.

Pan Yun was far harsher than him.

Master Xuanmiao didn't want these petty matters, these small-minded people, to become his heart demon.

Tao Ji's face grew solemn; he withdrew his gaze, didn't turn back, yet didn't leave either—he beckoned to a child and handed him a medicine vial: "Take this inside and give it to the clan chief."

Only after hearing the clan chief swallow the medicine did Tao Ji finally leave Tao Village.

Tao Ji's medicine worked swiftly—one pill, and the clan chief slowly regained consciousness, but his right hand went numb, utterly useless.

He panicked and cried out, "Where's Tao Ji? Quickly send for him to examine me…"

At his words, everyone fell silent.

The clan chief himself froze—his voice slurred, his tongue uncooperative; in his shock, he lost control of his mouth, and a stream of saliva spilled out.

Sensing his own condition, the clan chief was filled with despair—he trembled as he reached for his son, straining his eyes toward the gate.

His son understood: he shouted for help to carry his father back, then sprinted off after Tao Ji.

Only Tao Ji could save his father now.

Tao Ji and Master Xuanmiao had already mounted their horses and left Tao Village—the man's two legs could never catch up.

Mount Sanqing was a fair distance from Tao Village; the clan chief's son chased for a while, then gave up.

On foot, he wouldn't reach Mount Sanqing until nightfall.

Tao Ji and Master Xuanmiao first returned to the big market to return the rented cart, then led Wang Cong's horse back to Huishan.

As they entered the village, they saw Pan Yun and Seeing Miao Zhen leaning by the bridge, surrounded by a crowd of boys and girls, each holding a steaming rice cake, shifting it between hands and nibbling slowly.

Tao Ji's steps slowed slightly; he drew a deep breath—the whole village was filled with the scent of food.

With the New Year approaching, every household began preparing festival supplies: grinding soybeans for tofu, milling flour for buns, grinding rice flour for cakes and rice noodles…

Children ran everywhere, drawn by the aromas drifting from every house.

It was for the children that adults made these foods.

As adults said: "If everyone else is making it, and our children go out and see others eating, won't they feel pitiful?"

In these times, grain was precious; no one dared to eat from another's table.

So every household made something—but not the same thing—so nearby families could exchange treats.

The children also brought rice cakes, rice dumplings, and other snacks from home to trade.

Only Pan Yun and the three others were pure beggars of food.

Tao Ji felt pity—he turned to Master Xuanmiao and said, "Sister, let's grind some rice flour and wheat flour and make some snacks."

Master Xuanmiao paused, then said, "I can turn the mill."

Tao Ji took that as agreement and immediately said, "I'll go up the mountain and bring down rice and wheat—I can also grind some soybean flour…"

In an instant, Tao Ji had planned every snack he'd make: "We can make rice cakes, white sugar cakes, sour jujube cakes, lamp-wick cakes, and tea cakes."

Master Xuanmiao was startled: "You know how to make all of them?"

Tao Ji nodded.

Master Xuanmiao: "I've only seen you make rice cakes and crispy sugar."

Tao Ji: "These past years, I've been focused on cultivation and making medicine for you, so I've made less—I used to make these when I was young, every festival, my sister-in-law would prepare them for us."

Tao Ji's skills came from learning his sister-in-law. Pan Yun, holding a warm cake, waved at him: "Third Master, Fourth Sister, you're back?"

The others called out greetings too.

Master Xuanmiao gave a slight nod; Tao Ji asked, "Whose cakes are you eating?"

Pan Yun pointed to Wang Xiaojing: "His family's."

Tao Ji nodded, deciding to send a gift back to the Wang household tomorrow.

"Tao Yanbai, I've spoken with your parents—they've agreed to let you pursue the Dao. From now on, you'll cultivate on the mountain; if you miss home, you can return to visit, but don't come back if you're busy."

Tao Yanbai exhaled in relief and asked, "Third Uncle, did you see my sister?"

"I saw her—I slipped your money pouch and book to her secretly," Tao Ji said. "Don't worry—she's far sharper than you. I heard from villagers she's learning embroidery and doing well; they want her to master a skill so she can earn money later—this year, your father didn't make her climb the mountain for firewood."

Tao Yanbai finally put his heart at ease, deciding to return home and see her after some time.

Master Xuanmiao told the four, "Go clean the mill. We'll bring down rice and soybeans to grind soon."

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The four perked up, "Are we going to make something delicious too?"

Tao Ji, seeing how delighted they were, couldn't help laughing, "Can't have you all staring like hungry cats while others eat, can we?"

The four cheered.

Master Xuanmiao took a few steps, stopped, and turned to ask Seeing Miao Zhen, "When did you return from town? Where's Wang Cong?"

Seeing Miao Zhen: "We just got back. Senior brother brought the New Year goods up the mountain."

Just then, Wang Xiaojing came out to distribute food; Little Uncle was also eating heartily by the bridge, so the three stayed.

Master Xuanmiao said, "Call Wang Cong down to turn the mill."

Fen Shui Village had two stone mills—one at the village entrance, the other at the center.

They were owned collectively; everyone used these two mills to grind rice flour, wheat flour, soybean flour, and other powders.

They had a lot to grind, and it was already afternoon, so Master Xuanmiao decided to run both mills at once.

Luckily, the villagers had all risen at dawn to queue for grinding; they had just finished, so no one was ahead or behind them.

Not only Wang Cong, but Wang Feiyin also came down from the mountain.

The village elders gathered around the mill and spoke to Wang Feiyin, mostly scolding him: "Feiyin, why are you only now grinding rice flour?"

"You've set a bad example—the children are growing lazier. Back then, Tao Ji was so diligent; you've spoiled them all..."

Wang Feiyin sat on a rock chatting with them, "We deliberately avoided the rush so our fellow villagers could use the mills first."

"Don't give me that. You haven't even soaked the rice or soybeans—you're grinding dry grains. Clearly, you didn't plan to do it at all. You only decided now because everyone else was doing it, and the children looked pitiful."

Wang Feiyin didn't deny it; he simply said, "You're still the cleverest, Fifth Uncle—guessed it right away."

"Hey, Feiyin, aren't you cultivators who can perform spells? Can't you turn stones to gold? Why can't you turn rice into flour?"

"Who says we can't?" Wang Feiyin pointed to Wang Cong turning the mill. "Look—what's falling from the mill's outlet? Isn't that rice flour?"

Everyone: "... We can do that too!"

Wang Feiyin stroked his beard and smiled broadly: "So everyone can perform spells, ha ha ha..."

Pan Yun clanged rice into the empty stone mill with her spoon, "This must be why the villagers both believe and disbelieve in the Three Pure Ones Temple."

Wang Cong pushed the mill, panting as he answered, "My father said, as cultivators, we must earn belief, not superstition; the people may believe in mystery and spells, but they must not be superstitious."

Pan Yun pondered, then nodded: "Senior brother's words are truly profound."

Wang Cong, half-dead, nodded while pushing the mill.

Pan Yun couldn't bear it anymore. She set down the wooden bucket, grabbed him, and yanked him backward. "I'll do it—I can't stand watching you grind like this."

She handed him the task of adding rice, then gripped the mill handle with both hands and began walking.

Seeing Pan Yun rapidly and noisily turning the mill, Wang Cong hurriedly added rice while calling out, "Little Uncle, slow down! This mill turns too fast—the flour won't be fine enough!"

Pan Yun slowed her pace.

Finally, she found two hands cumbersome and pushed the mill forward with one hand at a steady pace.

Wang Cong, adding rice, watched her enviously: "Little Uncle, you're so strong."

Pan Yun: "You could reach that too with deep Qi. Even if not, strong internal energy would suffice."

Wang Cong said, "Today I went to buy New Year goods—I used up too much mental and physical strength. Normally, I wouldn't pant so quickly."

Pan Yun gave a flat, emotionless "Oh."

Wang Cong felt she didn't believe him, but she didn't say so outright.

He silently vowed: when he returned, he'd start training hard tomorrow—not to protect the jade pendant's space, but just to grind flour, he wouldn't let Little Uncle look down on him.

Yet the next day, Wang Cong couldn't get out of bed.

Why was it so cold today?

Wang Cong stayed curled under the covers. Wang Feiyin first knocked loudly, then pounded furiously on the door, shouting outside, "Get up already! You're the only one left asleep—how can you be Senior Brother?"

(End of Chapter)