Night.
The fire crackled to life.
"What's your name?" Lin Changfeng asked around a mouthful of meat.
"I don't have a name yet." The boy shook his head.
The mountain wind swept past.
Firelight cast his solitary shadow, wavering behind him.
Lin Changfeng's gaze flickered. He tipped his head back and took a long swig of wine.
—He was only about three years old. He probably had a pet name, but no proper name.
Only when they turned five and their families took them to an immortal sect to be examined by its disciples would they be given names suited to their respective talents.
The little one's family was dead. Whether he would ever receive a name was uncertain.
At the thought, Lin Changfeng handed him a piece of steak.
"Go on, it's good," he said.
The child shook his head. "I'm already full. But why can the water in your gourd gather the power of so many spiritual treasures?"
"This is wine—Spiritual Wine. I brewed it myself."
Lin Changfeng handed over the gourd so the child could smell it.
The child praised it. "That smells wonderful. Could I have a sip?"
"Of course not. You're too young. You couldn't handle the spiritual energy in this wine." Lin Changfeng hurriedly pulled the gourd back.
He tucked it away and asked, "What's your nickname?"
"I've been trying to think of one, but I can't come up with anything," the child said.
"Want me to think of one for you?"
"Let's hear it."
"How about Dog—Left—Behind?"
"No."
"Egg?"
"No, either. Could you pick a different animal?"
"You look down on dogs?"
"Not at all. It would just hurt my dignity and make things difficult for me in the future."
"Heh. You're still so young, and you're already planning to become an immortal?"