A Mortal Is a Mirror; Only Today Do I Know Myself

Qin Wangchuan stood at the door, watching Zhou Heng's figure gradually disappear into the distance until he turned the corner of the alley and was no longer visible.

White Deer got up at some point, strolled to his side, and also looked in that direction.

After a long pause, he suddenly spoke.

"Zhou Heng is already a rare talent among mortals."

"If he truly returns alive, he will surely achieve great things in the future."

It paused, then said:

But compared to you, sir—

"Still a long way off."

Upon hearing this, Qin Wangchuan chuckled softly and glanced down at it.

"Trying to flatter me in various ways won't get you anywhere."

"No." White Deer shook her head.

"I just feel that you, sir, are out of place in this world."

It paused, as if carefully considering its words.

I once heard someone use the phrase "a crane standing among chickens".

"It's about a crane standing among a flock of chickens, which looks significantly taller than the chickens."

"At first I thought, sir, that's probably the kind of person you are."

But looking at it now...

"This word is unworthy of you, sir."

These words stirred a ripple in Qin Wangchuan's heart.

He had already guessed some of the purpose of the mortal trials.

But after White Deer said that, something new arose in her heart.

In his previous world, he was an ordinary person.

Since arriving in this world, nothing has changed, except that I'm luckier, have a better family background, and am stronger than others.

Qin Wangchuan never thought he was anything special.

Until I fell into this group of mortals and lived with them day and night.

For the first time, he saw himself in the mirror.

I hadn't realized how far I'd come.

So far away that even he himself hadn't realized it.

When exactly did it begin?

Was it after that tenth birthday banquet?

Is it time for a fierce battle with Sixth Brother?

Or was it the moment he was officially given the title of Divine Son?

Qin Wangchuan thought for a moment, then shook his head and decided not to delve any further.

No matter where I am, I am who I am.

That's enough.

The decision was made.

Qin Wangchuan withdrew his gaze from the alley entrance and turned to walk back.

As he walked to the Jujube Tree, he paused, looking up at the tree laden with green fruit.

"Good boy, there's a sweet treat for you."

"If you have a spirit, you will know what to do."

The branches and leaves of the Jujube Tree swayed slightly.

A green jujube on the branch turned red instantly and fell from the branch.

Qin Wangchuan caught it and handed it to White Deer.

"For you."

"Thank you, Mr. Xie." White Deer did not refuse.

It had been craving the taste of this for more than just a day.

He took the red date from Qin Wangchuan's palm, but didn't eat it right away.

Instead, he first placed it on the ground and respectfully bowed to the Jujube Tree.

In its view, this tree, which could understand human speech and bear fruit according to its will, was like itself, having cultivated its own intelligence.

They are of the same kind.

If you've received something from someone, there's no reason not to express your gratitude.

As if receiving this greeting, the Jujube Tree swayed its branches and leaves again.

Immediately afterwards, another red date fell.

The White Deer, carrying the jujube in its mouth, lay back down under the tree, its teeth gently closing.

Biting into it crisply releases juice that spreads across the tongue, a sweet flavor with an indescribable aroma.

The next moment.

A faint glow appeared on its snow-white body, emanating from deep within its fur, circling around it once, and then slowly sinking back into its body.

The White Deer shuddered.

It clearly felt that its cultivation level was genuinely rising.

This one bite alone is worth more than years of arduous training!

Delicious! Great stuff!

White Dew's eyes lit up, and then she swallowed the remaining half of the date, pit and all.

After swallowing, his gaze fell on another date on the ground.

This one... I'm almost reluctant to eat it.

And it was at this moment.

"Make way—make way—"

The person arrived before the voice did.

The half-closed courtyard gate was kicked open, and Qin Zhaoer swaggered in carrying a tray, completely ignoring everyone else, and went straight to the stone table in the front yard.

The tray was placed heavily on the stone table.

"Dinner's ready!"

Two bowls of hot noodles were steaming, with two plump white steamed buns lying beside them.

Qin Zhaoer placed the tray on the stone table, put her hands on her hips, and raised her chin.

"Watch closely."

"Today's meal is my masterpiece!"

Qin Wangchuan didn't reply, but instead reached out and gathered the medical books spread out on the stone table one by one, moving them to a clean spot to avoid splashing soup on them.

Before he could even finish accepting Qin Zhaoer, he couldn't wait any longer, grabbed his chopsticks, and slurped up a big mouthful.

He was initially beaming with pride, eagerly awaiting praise.

But after only two chews, her raised chin froze in mid-air.

The smile on his face gradually faded.

"... Hmm?"

"This taste... something's not quite right."

"That old man, is he trying to trick me?"

"Old man?" Qin Wangchuan was just picking up his chopsticks.

If you were to name an old man in this town who was involved with noodles, there was only one.

"Did you go and ask Uncle Lu for advice?"

Qin Zhaoer nodded sullenly.

"Um."

"But the taste still isn't right!"

"Uncle Lu has been making noodles for most of his life," Qin Wangchuan said calmly. "You've only learned it once; how could you possibly be good enough?"

He paused, then looked somewhat surprised.

"Speaking of which, how could he bear to pass on his culinary skills to you?"

Upon hearing this, Qin Zhaoer immediately raised her head proudly.

"I have a plan!"

To put it bluntly, it was nothing more than persistent pleading and cajoling, plus the pressure of their relationship with Qin Wangchuan.

"I used to make noodles because they were simple and convenient."

"But today I did the math and realized that cooking rice is actually easier than making noodles!"

As she spoke, she put down her chopsticks and raised her chin.

"Tell me what you want to eat, and I'll make it for you."

Qin Wangchuan picked up a mouthful of noodles with his chopsticks, put it in his mouth, and nodded slightly.

This is much better than the previous times.

It's neither too soft nor too mushy, has no strange smell, and no hard bits that would hurt your teeth.

Hearing her ask that, he casually gave a reply.

"I'll eat whatever you make."

Qin Wangchuan spoke softly and casually, then lowered his head and picked up another mouthful of noodles.

But when Qin Zhaoer heard these words, her heart felt as if it had been gently bumped.

It's hard to describe the feeling.

It's sour, soft, and a little hot.

She sat there, sipping her chopsticks, lost in thought.

For some reason, my previous conversation with Wen's mother suddenly popped into my head.

She asked Wen's mother, "Don't you get tired of cooking and serving other people all the time?"

After all these years, how come you haven't uttered a single complaint?

Wen's mother just smiled at the time.

"There are complaints, and cooking is tiring."

"But seeing people eat what you've made makes all the hard work worthwhile."

"You're still young, you don't understand."

"You'll understand when you grow up."

Worth?

At that time, Qin Zhaoer didn't take it to heart at all.

It's just cooking a meal, what's the big deal?

Now.

Her gaze fell on Qin Wangchuan across from her.

Even though he knew the noodles weren't as good as Uncle Lu's from the town entrance, he didn't say anything. He ate intently, one bite after another, without even frowning or uttering a word of complaint.

As she watched, Qin Zhaoer suddenly felt that she might understand a little.

She lowered her eyes, picked up a mouthful of noodles with her chopsticks, but didn't put it in her mouth.

I was starving just a moment ago.

For some reason, I've suddenly lost my appetite.

He just stared at it, completely bewildered.

Watching that mouthful of noodles slowly slip from between my chopsticks and fall back into the bowl.

After a while.

Qin Zhaoer suddenly blurted out a sentence out of the blue.

"... It tastes awful."

Qin Wangchuan looked up upon hearing this, somewhat puzzled.

She made it herself, so why is she complaining about it?

Qin Zhaoer didn't explain, slammed down her chopsticks, and pointed at Qin Wangchuan.

"You just wait!"

There was an unprecedented seriousness in those eyes.

"I will definitely make something delicious!"

"I'll feed you so much you'll crave my cooking every day!"

Qin Wangchuan smiled gently as he looked at her serious expression.

He put down his chopsticks, but his expression was serious.

"Good."

"I'll be waiting."

Compared to the peaceful and idyllic life on this side of Willow Creek Town.

On the battlefield a thousand miles away, Fan Yuan was scratching his head in frustration at the young man in front of him.

To be honest, Zhou Heng had indeed sent a message earlier saying he wanted to come over.

But with the war raging these past few days, and countless things piling up, Fan Yuan was so busy he barely had time to breathe and completely forgot about this matter.

Until he saw the boy standing in front of him, looking travel-worn.

Fan Yuan felt as if half the sky had collapsed.

They actually came?!

If anything were to happen to him, how would he ever face his teacher again?

Unfortunately, things have already come to this point, and the person is already right in front of us; it's too late to say anything now.

That's enough.

He rubbed his temples and gave a stern warning.

"You've been by my side all this time."

"Don't go anywhere, do you hear me?"

Being by his side meant being in the safest place in the entire Soaring Tower.

Swords and spears have no eyes; with him protecting him, at least this kid's life can be saved.

This was the most appropriate arrangement Fan Yuan could think of.

Who knew?

The words had barely left his mouth.

"No."

Zhou Heng, with his neck stiff, refused without even thinking.

"I want to go to the battlefield!"

The others in the tent exchanged glances upon hearing this, but no one seemed surprised.

A mere youth who hadn't even reached the threshold of Cultivator was already asking to join the battlefield where Cultivator clashed.

Hearing this, one can tell that the speaker is utterly ignorant and arrogant.

But to those who have been through this before, it's nothing out of the ordinary.

Who hasn't thought this to themselves when they were young?

But later, after seeing so many flashes of swords and having my life hanging in the balance for so long, that initial drive gradually wore away.

Looking at this young man now, it's as if he's seen his younger self from many years ago.