Another Bowl of Plain Noodles

The disciples of Yang Family Shop—Li Er, Zheng Dafeng, Su Dian, Shi Lingshan, and the others—had all gradually set out on long journeys. Old Man Yang was delighted by the peace and quiet. Yang Shu, who kept watch over the shop out front, could not understand a word anyone said, so Old Man Yang could not be bothered to waste another word on him. Of course, Yang Shu had no desire to associate with that wretched old man either. The old turtle had curled up in his nest and truly begun treating himself as somebody important. If not for the Yang ancestors cherishing old ties, how much money could this deserted shop possibly make in a year? If he, Yang Shu, were the one calling the shots, he would have settled the accounts long ago.

Wei Bo and Ruan Qiong arrived to pay a visit almost at the same time.

One was the Northern Sacred Mountain Lord, the other a Sage stationed here. Both arrived quietly.

Ruan Qiong was rather casual. He sat on the long bench beneath the eaves, drinking wine. Xiuxiu had brought some fine wine home this time, wine he was ordinarily reluctant to drink.

Wei Bo stood beside the bench, his expression grave.

Quite a number of Sages had sat on that bench.

Old Man Yang sat on the steps outside the main room opposite them, surrounded by vast white mist.

Ruan Qiong put away his wine flask and got straight to the point. "If Xiuxiu had not gone over to the academy, I would not have come."

Old Man Yang smiled. "I cannot control her. Ruan Qiong, you have only yourself to blame for this."

Ruan Qiong nodded. With that answer, as long as this was not Old Man Yang's scheme, it was enough.

Yet