After the Pretend Aloof Master Overturned His Cart - Chapter 3

Early the next morning, Jiang Zhou went out for a walk. The sleeves of his robe under the fox fur were wide, making his figure appear increasingly lean.

He wasn’t supposed to be like this. Setting aside the spirit-locking chain on his neck, simply by removing the one on his wrist and releasing the thirty percent of spiritual energy that was locked away, his physical form could have recovered to its original state.

Ji Yunlang loved to embrace a slender, soft waist and lean shoulders. Jiang Zhou didn’t have them, so Ji Yunlang forcefully made him have them.

Once he put on the spirit-locking chain, from then on his hands didn’t need to grasp a sword or lift a blade, and he didn’t even have to water flowers or plant grass. Their sole function was to climb onto his disciple’s body to make him happy.

The accumulated snow in the courtyard hadn’t melted yet, but a warm sunshine spilled down from the edge of the sky, shining genially upon his body.

The weather was quite good today, and Ji Yunlang had also risen very early. Jiang Zhou had only walked past three trees when he saw a flowing red shadow ahead.

Ji Yunlang used double-handed swords. Amidst his flying black hair, his sword went out like the wind, his moves sharp, swift, and graceful.

If it weren’t for the overflowing dark spiritual light staining the accumulated snow on the ground pitch black, Jiang Zhou would have been in a daze, wondering from which famous elite immortal sect this disciple of his had originated.

Immediately after, he gave a light smile.

What kind of pot matches what kind of lid; which one of them, master and disciple, could ever be associated with an immortal sect?

Ji Yunlang discovered him. With a turn of his wrist, the sword-wind forced itself straight toward Jiang Zhou’s face.

Jiang Zhou did not move. The tip of the sword suddenly deflected half an inch in front of his eyes. Ji Yunlang landed steadily in front of him, encircling his shoulder with a single arm to pull him into his embrace, asking as he sheathed his sword, “Master is up so early?”

Jiang Zhou didn’t utter a sound, thinking to himself: We trash who eat and then sleep are just like this.

His hand paused for a moment on Ji Yunlang’s waist.

His injuries weren’t healed yet, yet he was dancing with his sword so smoothly first thing in the morning. Being young is indeed different.

Jiang Zhou didn’t understand swords.

Back then, in the second month after Ji Yunlang entered the sect, Jiang Zhou took up his own natal sword—which everyone envied—and pulled his disciple to a deserted corner. After executing a few moves according to the sword manual, he asked, “Do you like it?”

He put on an appearance of being a model teacher, guiding his disciple to determine his future cultivation direction.

The ten-year-old Ji Yunlang’s eyes already condensed a dark purple light. Smiling to reveal grimly white teeth, he stared at the flashing cold tip of the sword.

“I like it.”

Jiang Zhou nodded with satisfaction. Just as he was waiting to speak his second sentence as a model teacher, Ji Yunlang suddenly gripped his fingers tightly.

The child, who only reached his waist, raised his head, an ill intent secretly hiding excitement growing in his eyes, “The elders like to call me a bastard, and the guards beside Head Yun curse at me as a little beast. I can cut off their tongues and bash their mouths into a pulp, so that they can never speak again.”

Jiang Zhou lowered his eyes to look at him, his face devoid of emotion. Ji Yunlang didn’t move either, tilting his face up to make eye contact with him. It was supposed to be the most innocent age, yet those purple eyes truly couldn’t be considered clear.

After a long time, feeling his fingers being gripped until they throbbed with pain, Jiang Zhou let out a sigh, squatted down, and grasped Ji Yunlang’s hand to hold the sword together.

As a teacher himself, he had only learned the first three pages of the sword manual, so he only taught his disciple the first three pages. The rest was all Ji Yunlang gesticulating by himself according to the sword manual.

Jiang Zhou said his second sentence as a model teacher that day: “You are not allowed to harm people.”

Then he saw disdain and a sneer on a child’s face.

Jiang Zhou didn’t care. He had already acted as a model teacher; what did how Ji Yunlang behaved have to do with him?

Taking “cutting off their tongues and bashing their mouths into a pulp” as his goal, Ji Yunlang worked hard at practicing since childhood. Often before Jiang Zhou even woke up, he had already practiced a round of swordsmanship.

“Master?”

Ji Yunlang put away his sword, discovering that Jiang Zhou was still unconsciously and obediently leaning in his embrace, not knowing what he was thinking.

Jiang Zhou didn’t move, and he was also glad not to move. He thrust his hand into the fox fur, feeling the warm spine. Pausing for a moment, his other hand went inside as well, warming his hands inside Jiang Zhou’s clothes while holding him.

As he warmed them, he ended up pressing the person onto a tree. Only then did Jiang Zhou snap back to reality, grabbing his hands to push them outward.

His strength was weak and pliable; Ji Yunlang didn’t take it seriously at all. His hand had already slipped into the half-loosened garments, not sliding his hand out若無其事 until Jiang Zhou furrowed his brows and spoke, saying, “Cold.”

He only said it was cold, and didn’t say no. He clasped Jiang Zhou to walk toward the room, and Jiang Zhou spoke his second sentence of the day to him, “Stuffy.”

Ji Yunlang raised his eyebrows, staring straight at him.

Jiang Zhou’s face was aloof but his mind was uneasy, generating a desire to express himself that was unprecedented in five years.

He wanted to tell his disciple: There is no future for us living like this day after day, eating and then sleeping, sleeping and then eating. You can still go out for a stroll when you have nothing to do, but what about this Master? This Master is so bored; this Master has had enough of you.

When Ji Yunlang stared at him, his gaze was scorching, as if saying: Master can struggle all he wants, but in the end you still have to listen to me.

Jiang Zhou stood expressionlessly under the tree making eye contact with him. His aloof features caught the slanting sunlight, suddenly carrying a layer of warmth.

He grabbed Ji Yunlang’s hand, placed it onto his own belly, and turned his head away.

Ji Yunlang was startled, then reacted immediately. In the past, it was always him who finished making the food and went to wake Jiang Zhou up. Today, Master had risen early too, and he hadn’t had time to prepare anything to eat yet. This body with the spirit-locking chain put on it was no different from a mortal’s; it should be time to be hungry.

It was just that Jiang Zhou’s appearance was truly awkward. He didn’t want to speak to him, so he could only pull his hand to cover his own stomach, looking exactly like.

Ji Yunlang burst into laughter, gently stroking his lower abdomen, “Finally having one? It wasn’t in vain that we worked hard night and day. I will treat you well in the future, Master.”

Master was so lively first thing in the morning, putting Ji Yunlang in an excellent mood. Grasping his hand, he asked, “What do you want to eat?”

In any case, nobody was ignoring him. After asking, he connected it himself, “Lotus crisp, noodles with minced meat soup—these two items are simple, and Master likes them, so let’s have this. There’s still half a jar of chili sauce left; how long has it been sitting? It should still be edible. Master, eat a bit more today; I fried it with my own hands, and I still hope you can finish it…”

Ji Yunlang surprisingly just held his hand and ran off at the mouth like this. That face was demonic and evil, yet the gaze looking at him was gentle. The winter sunlight shone upon his body, and Jiang Zhou’s heart suddenly warmed, generating a bit of reluctance at parting.

Setting everything else aside, his disciple was still quite good at liking someone.

Following that, Ji Yunlang approached as he spoke. His face remained gentle, yet he lowered his voice: “Of course, if Master really cannot finish it because you are disgusted by me, then I will tie you up and feed you mouth by mouth, so that no matter which mouth Master uses, you can taste your disciple’s intent.”

That bit of reluctance in Jiang Zhou vanished in an instant.

He quite wanted to ask Ji Yunlang: Which other mouth do you think this Master has that can be used to eat your beloved chili sauce?

Ji Yunlang went to cook. Jiang Zhou refused to go to the kitchen together with him, merely wandering around all over the courtyard.

Not long ago, the place where Ji Yunlang danced with his sword still retained the polluted snow. Jiang Zhou paced over there, tore off the disguised spirit-locking chain on his left wrist, and with a light nudge of his toes, buried it into the dark snow.

Jiang Zhou stared at the main gate not far away. The sunlight was still overhead, yet a gust of wind generated inexplicably, blowing his wide robes to sway backward.

Ji Yunlang was in the kitchen not far away. If Jiang Zhou walked through the main gate, the instant he broke through the restriction, he would be detected by him.

Fortunately, Jiang Zhou deeply understood a principle: teaching the disciple starves the master. When he taught Ji Yunlang, he had never taught more than thirty percent.

For example, right now, he wanted to run away, and didn’t need to use the main gate at all.

He stood in the wind, his physical form changing. The power that had been missing for a long time surged back into his body in a continuous stream, his shriveled muscles becoming full once more. His waist was no longer soft at a single grasp, his shoulders and back were no longer lean and powerless, and his body no longer feared the cold, shedding the heavy fox fur.

Accompanying the fox fur falling to the ground, in just a single instant, Jiang Zhou silently vanished from the original spot.

The Qingxiao Sect.

Guanhai Peak and Tingchao Peak stood tall facing each other.

Having spent five years living in a fool’s paradise within that tiny four-sided sky, Jiang Zhou had finally returned again.

His residence was located on a cliff top of Guanhai Peak. This place was shrouded by clouds and hidden by mist, spiritual light filling the sky, presenting a scene of a prosperous and vital Immortal Continent.

In truth, it would be fine for him to go anywhere at random; the place he should least return to was right here. The moment Ji Yunlang discovered he was gone, he would look over here first thing.

Jiang Zhou went straight up Guanhai Peak, walking toward his living quarters, intending to grab something, change his clothes, and leave.

Winter had already arrived at the foot of the mountain, yet the mountain still remained like spring all four seasons. When he reached the wicker fence at the entrance, he abruptly stopped his steps.

The spiritual energy here was active and fluid, nourishing the spiritual grass inside the courtyard to appear full of vitality. It was clearly the appearance of someone residing here.

During these five years he was together with Ji Yunlang, his own residence had actually been occupied by someone all along. Jiang Zhou’s brows furrowed with discomfort.

Inside the door, two young men in magnificent robes were at the swing in the courtyard, one standing and one sitting. Both wore silver crowns and wide robes, and on their garments were divine beast patterns woven with gold thread; it was the uniform disciple attire of the Qingxiao Sect.

As one of the five major sects of the Immortal Continent, many disciples within the Qingxiao Sect originated from great aristocratic families, being either wealthy or noble, and their clothing, food, housing, and transportation were all of the highest quality.

The person sitting on the swing had a face full of laziness, his features entirely filled with arrogance. At this moment, he clutched his right hand and spat fiercely onto the ground.

“Bah! That broken sword injured this young master again today. It still thinks of itself as some kind of famous weapon; Jiang Zhou has already been captured and played until he’s ruined by someone, yet it surprisingly still recognizes its master.”

“Has that wild bastard Ji Yunlang actually finished off his Master or not? My dad will track him down sooner or later and make him kneel to serve this young master!”

As he spoke, he glanced at the person standing beside him, seemingly waiting for him to chime in and curse together with him.

That person merely stood in his original spot listlessly, not speaking at all.

A surge of fire welled up in Jiang Mingyuan’s heart. That broken sword couldn’t be taken as his own possession to this day, and now just any random person dared to ignore him. Clutching his wrist, he jumped down from the swing and delivered a kick to the leg of the person beside him, “Lin Xiao! This young master is speaking to you, are you pretending to be a mute?”

Lin Xiao was caught unawares. Being kicked to stagger two steps forward, he temporarily flared up in anger too.

Steadily standing up amidst the danger, he couldn’t bother to pat the dust off his leg, and grabbed Jiang Mingyuan’s collar with a hard tug.

“Jiang the Eighth, my dad told me to come fetch you for class. It was you who insisted on taking Jiang Zhou’s sword, yet you couldn’t even lift it after eating three buckets of rice. You are just a piece of trash! Don’t waste the spiritual energy on the mountain; roll out of here as early as possible.”

“You… you…” Having just overeaten until his stomach was stuffed and getting injured on top of it, facing Lin Xiao’s wretched face, Jiang Mingyuan was so angry his face turned red and his neck turned thick. Tugging his collar out from his hand, he stamped his feet and said, “Apologize to this young master! Otherwise I will tell my dad to kick your family out of the Immortal Continent!”

Lin Xiao patted the dust off his leg, saying emotionlessly, “Mm mm sorry, strictly do not tell your dad, I’m scared to death.”

Jiang Mingyuan stared with wide eyes, let out a snort from his nose, and pointed at the room door, “Go, pull Jiang Zhou’s sword out for me.”

Lin Xiao pointed at himself, “Me?”

After the time it takes for half a stick of incense to burn, he came out clutching his bleeding wrist.

Jiang Mingyuan grasped his injured hand with satisfaction, “Ha! Trash!”

Lin Xiao rolled his eyes, dragging him to walk outward, “Yes, I’m trash, I’m the biggest piece of trash. Time for class, Master Jiang the Eighth young master. I’ve finished the schoolwork for you; remember to speak more good words to your dad.”

Jiang Mingyuan was dragged out the door with great reluctance.

Watching them leave, Jiang Zhou’s figure flashed, and he stood in the middle of the courtyard.

Behind the Qingxiao Sect was the Jiang family. The one just now should be the youngest son of Elder Jiang Nian, belonging to the same generation as Ji Yunlang.

It didn’t matter who it was; in any case, Jiang Zhou didn’t know them. He had never had any interactions with these juniors.

He glanced at the swing that was still swaying gently in the courtyard. Turning his palms over, the palm-wind brought up a few pieces of crushed stone, striking the ropes suspending the seat board. The wooden swing frame crashed heavily to the ground.

This was something Jiang Zhou had learned to make during the first few days after Ji Yunlang arrived. When buying the tutorial book, that old carpenter even said that the child at home would definitely like it.

As a result, the young Ji Yunlang was completely uninterested, and kept looking at him with strange eyes, seemingly wondering why a grown adult like him was still putting a swing in the courtyard to play with.

Jiang Zhou ignored him, and didn’t look after the swing again either.

He had finished doing what he was supposed to do; whether he liked it or not was Ji Yunlang’s own business.

The door to the main house was half-ajar. The moment Jiang Zhou lifted his foot to step in, his breathing grew a bit heavier due to the cluttered mess filling the room.

Clothes and socks thrown around everywhere, an entire chewed animal leg, a table full of oil stains and rice grains perhaps that young master wanted to exclusively enjoy the spiritual energy on the mountain and wouldn’t allow servants to follow and live together, yet he didn’t know how to tidy up himself, who knows how long it took before letting someone come up to clean once.

Jiang Zhou backed out the door, taking a deep breath against the fresh and open courtyard.

The swing made for Ji Yunlang being played with by someone else had already made him very uncomfortable; he didn’t want to enter this pigsty right now at all.

After brewing his thoughts for a moment, he went around to the back of the house, parting the silk vines creeping down from the roof to reveal a hidden window.

He bent his finger, lightly tapping on the window frame.

A slender sword shadow suddenly flashed past the inner side of the window, going back and forth, seemingly shuttling around everywhere inside the room.

Not long after, the window was pushed open from the inside, and a pitch-black sword hilt cautiously poked out half of its head.

Glancing at its completely empty hilt body, Jiang Zhou furrowed his brows, speaking somewhat impatiently, “The things.”

The sword hilt shuddered, shaking up and down, seemingly saying: I’m a sword, what do you want me to take it with?

Jiang Zhou realized it too. His expression was complex, staring at the sword for a long while, finally brewing it well.

The wind passed, bringing about a light swaying of the silk vines. In front of the window shaded by green leaves, the blue-robed immortal stood tall and straight, steadily opening his lips toward the half-section of the killing sword hilt.

“Meow.”

The black sword began to shudder with satisfaction. Along with a burst of white smoke, it turned into a round, plump kitten.

Black fur and black eyeballs; at first glance it looked just like a charcoal ball.

The little charcoal ball nimbly jumped back into the room, opened the secret chest in a corner of the room, bit out all the magical artifacts and clothing belonging to Jiang Zhou, and then dug out a universe bag. Its long tail and claws collaborated, being busy without stopping for a single instant, packaging a full bag of things tightly and carrying it onto its own back.

Jiang Zhou opened the window to look at it.

It glanced at the room full of mess without the slightest lingering attachment. Carrying the heavy luggage, it looked into its master’s eyes and let out a firm meow.

Following that, it took a running start, leapt, its furry hind legs exerting force, jumping onto the window sill in a single bound, flying straight toward Jiang Zhou’s embrace.

Jiang Zhou’s figure flashed, letting it plunge into empty space.

He untied the universe bag from the black cat’s back and walked outward. The black cat landed on the ground. Seeing that Jiang Zhou had absolutely no intention of bringing it along, it let out an unwilling meow. With a puff of white smoke, it changed back into a sword again, quietly following him.