Chapter 17: Senior Brother Part 2

Zhao Yang was the son of the Xunyang County magistrate, but his personality didn’t take after his father’s—he was very simple-minded. He had come up the mountain for two things: to learn martial arts for self-defense and to eat. Thus, even though the food on Lingyun Mountain wasn’t as good as down below, his weight kept increasing without ever slimming down.

Xun Changqing humored him, bowing slightly with a smile. “Senior Brother Zhao.”

The title “senior brother” pleased Zhao Yang immensely; his squinted eyes nearly couldn’t open at all. He was only half a head taller than Xun Changqing, but his arm was as thick as two of hers. He patted her shoulder good-naturedly and declared righteously, “Good. It’s Winter Solstice today—we’re having dumplings, pork filling. Want some? I had them save some specially for me. Little junior brother, come with me now.”

Shouldn’t their first meeting involve questions about family background? Why was it food again? She didn’t want to go. Though dinnertime was approaching, Wei Lingci hadn’t permitted her to leave, and sneaking off would be improper. She glanced back; the window had already closed, hiding whatever the two were discussing.

Zhao Yang had been on the mountain for four or five years and was used to such scenes. Thinking Xun Changqing worried about Wei Lingci calling for her, he kindly explained, “My master went in—they’ll talk for a while. I’ll take you for dumplings. By the time we finish, they might not even be done. Adults have lots to discuss.”

Xun Changqing didn’t want to go with him and shook her head in refusal. But Zhao Yang assumed the delicate new junior brother was too shy. With great generosity, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along. His grip was strong; she couldn’t break free and had no choice but to follow.

Zhao Yang held his little junior brother’s slender wrist—it felt so nice. His palms had calluses from training, and it had been ages since he’d touched such soft skin. Curiosity piqued—and since they were both boys—he couldn’t resist stroking it a few more times before letting go. He laughed, “I heard from my senior brother that my master likes your master. Every time your master returns, mine goes to see her first. After a while, everyone says my master likes your master and will marry her someday.”

The little fatty huffed and puffed as he walked, saying all that. Xun Changqing’s head spun from the barrage of “your master” and “my master.” She didn’t want to engage and just nodded in response.

After a few words about masters, Zhao Yang switched back to food. He picked up a goose egg stone from the path, rolling it in his palm. “This morning, a kitchen handyman brother said there’d be lamb tonight—not sure if it’s true. I haven’t had lamb in forever; I’m craving it. Changqing, you’re new to the mountain, so you don’t know—lamb is rare here. If you’re late, it’s gone.”

The smooth stone felt great in his hand, just like Xun Changqing’s earlier. Feeling content, he chattered more. “I love lamb, so I asked my senior brothers to save some. If Master hadn’t called me just now, I’d have gone for it already. Wonder if there’s any left.”

When they reached the dining hall, it was already crowded. Zhao Yang dragged her to the back kitchen. A handyman brother spotted him and immediately brought out two plates of dumplings, plus a big bowl of lamb from the pot, handing it over.

Zhao Yang’s eyes squinted shut again with delight. He generously gave Xun Changqing one plate, grabbed two pairs of chopsticks, and pulled her to sit on a quiet, secluded step in the kitchen. He didn’t even bother with chopsticks, just grabbed a dumpling with his hand and shoved it in his mouth.

Xun Changqing stared dazedly at the dumplings on her plate. It felt like a dream. Returning to Lingyun Mountain had been a nightmare for her right after rebirth. But now, the warmth from the dumpling in her hand brought her back to reality. She had entered the gates of Lingyun Sect again, becoming Wei Lingci’s disciple.

The sunset was beautiful, vast and hazy in the sky. Gazing at the stunning vista that made one forget form, she let out a soft sigh. She picked up a dumpling with her chopsticks, took a small bite. The pork filling was mixed with vegetables—not pure meat, skimped on.

She hadn’t finished even one when she saw that Zhao Yang’s lamb bowl and pork plate were empty. His eyes were glued to the plate of dumplings on his knee. Xun Changqing swallowed her half-eaten dumpling, wiped her mouth, and returned the rest to him. “I’m not hungry. You eat it.”

“Thanks, little junior brother.” Zhao Yang wasn’t polite; he took them and devoured them heartily. They had been his to begin with, yet he thanked her anyway—a truly kind child.

Xun Changqing propped her chin, watching him. Such a great appetite. She couldn’t help but grumble, “Senior Brother Zhao, why did you come up the mountain? At home, you could eat as much as you wanted.”

As the son of a county magistrate, ensuring Zhao Yang’s indulgences wouldn’t be hard. In her past life, she hadn’t asked. Now that they’d met, she ought to. After all, an ambitious man like Wang Pingjun wouldn’t take a disciple without gain. Lu Hengzhi was promising, yet only a nominal disciple.

Zhao Yang chewed as he replied without missing a beat, using the moment his hands held dumplings. “My mom said my health was poor, so I came up to train and build my body.”

Poor health? Xun Changqing nearly thought she’d misheard. Zhao Yang looked far too robust. His father must have offered benefits to Wang Pingjun; otherwise, such a picky man wouldn’t take him.

Before Xun Changqing could respond, the second plate of dumplings was gone. His speed was impressive.

He stood, returned the bowls and chopsticks, wiped his oily lips with his sleeve, and stretched contentedly. Looking at Xun Changqing, he grew a bit shy. “Sorry, I dragged you here, but you didn’t get to eat. Next time, I’ll definitely save some for you.”

In her past life, she’d had little contact with Zhao Yang, scorning him for being fat and dumb. But now, he seemed the most honest person on Lingyun Mountain—far better than those two-faced snakes and rats.

She stood too, brushed the dust from her clothes, and smiled. “I did eat a dumpling. Next time then. Walk me back? I don’t know the way.”

“Sure!” Zhao Yang’s round face lit up with a grin. He reached for her hand but heard someone call from ahead: “Changqing.”

Author’s Note:

Master: Others touch your hand, and you don’t refuse?

Disciple: He’s just a kid.

Master: He’s a little boy, and there’s a difference between boys and girls.

Disciple: I’m a little boy too—it’s the same.

Master: Then get out and live in Pure Self Courtyard. Don’t come to my Purple Ying Pavilion.

Disciple instantly cowers, chasing after Master to profess sincerity: Master, I was wrong. I won’t let anyone else touch me again. My hand is yours to touch from now on—my whole self belongs to you.

Good evening, muah~