Mountain Rain

A light rain fell in Willow Creek Town that day.

The rain pattered on the tiles, making the room even quieter.

Qin Wangchuan didn't make house calls, nor did he work on the stove. Instead, he sat at the table, listening to the sound of the rain, and flipped through an old medical book.

Across from them, Qin Zhaoer was busy preparing lunch.

Three years later, her skills were no longer what they used to be.

It's no longer the same bowl of noodles that you keep turning over and over.

The dishes, prepared with skill and flair, were presented in a variety of ways. Several side dishes were laid out on the table, their colors and aromas appealing and appetizing.

The two sat facing each other while eating, neither speaking much, yet there was an unspoken understanding between them.

Qin Wangchuan glanced at the corner of the table.

Without saying a word, Qin Zhaoer casually handed the open medical book to him.

After a while, she reached for the vinegar dish on the other side of the table.

Qin Wangchuan didn't even look up, and just then he placed the vinegar dish next to her.

The exchange was seamless, requiring no eye contact whatsoever.

This kind of scene was unimaginable three years ago.

"How is it?" Qin Zhaoer asked, biting her chopsticks and looking at him expectantly. "Is my cooking now better than Uncle Lu's at the town entrance, or even better?"

Qin Wangchuan paused in his chopsticks, then looked up at her.

The little girl who, three years ago, held a bowl of noodles, stood with her hands on her hips, and declared she would feed him until he wanted to eat her cooking every day, suddenly overlapped with the face in front of him.

Back then, she couldn't even cook a bowl of noodles properly, but now she can fry, stir-fry, stew, and boil a whole table of food that looks quite presentable.

"Hmm." He withdrew his gaze and said calmly, "However, no matter how much time passes, I will probably still think of Uncle Lu's bowl of noodles."

Qin Zhaoer's smug expression froze on the spot.

"What do you mean?" She nearly stabbed his bowl with her chopsticks. "Even Uncle Lu said I've graduated!"

"You've completed your apprenticeship." Qin Wangchuan nodded, admitting it readily.

"Then why don't you—"

"What I mean is," he interrupted her slowly, "that Uncle Lu's noodles are quite good."

"But the food you cook has a flavor that no one else can replicate."

"Even after I return to the Immortal Court, I will still remember."

Qin Zhaoer opened her mouth, unable to respond for a moment.

She had been holding back a desire to outdo Uncle Lu.

His words soothed her, and her competitive spirit inexplicably subsided.

"No problem," she replied instinctively, her tone light, "I'll make it for you again when we get back."

The words slipped out, and Qin Wangchuan took it as nothing out of the ordinary, not noticing anything amiss.

Qin Zhaoer, however, realized what was happening as soon as she finished speaking.

Even after returning to the Immortal Court, she still cooked for him every day...

What would others think if they heard these words?

Isn't this a bit too intimate?

The thought crossed her mind, and a small red blush crept onto her ears. She hurriedly lowered her head, then cautiously glanced at the person opposite her.

Seeing that he looked perfectly normal, as if he hadn't even considered that possibility, she secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

There was no time to be angry anymore.

To distract herself from this thought, she quickly shoveled down a couple of mouthfuls of rice and looked up as if trying to make conversation.

"Oh, right."

"Where's Zhou Heng? It seems like I haven't seen him in a while."

"I've been gone for a while, and it's still the same old story about those bandits," Qin Wangchuan replied casually, turning a page of his book.

"Oh--"

Qin Zhaoer drawled out the last syllable.

Zhou Heng has also changed quite a bit in these three years.

Although he hasn't yet reached the threshold of Cultivator, his martial arts skills are already quite solid, making him a well-known and highly skilled Martial Practitioner in the outside world.

Later, he simply joined Soaring Tower officially.

Fan Yuan was still worried, fearing that the boy might stumble into some dangerous place again, so he found an excuse to assign him the task of investigating the eight bandits.

Having alerted them three years ago, the group realized that Soaring Tower was secretly investigating them, so they simply hid and disappeared completely for several years without a trace.

Occasionally, when rumors spread, Zhou Heng would lead his men to verify their authenticity and, while doing so, pursue the matter further into the area.

But nine times out of ten, it's all just wishful thinking; either it's false news or the wrong person has been identified.

The trail went cold, and the job became a sinecure with no real power.

Unfortunately, this leisurely time fell into the hands of Zhou Heng, who was determined to take revenge, making him feel extremely restless and uncomfortable.

Qin Zhaoer nodded, asked no more questions, and buried herself in the rice in her bowl.

The two were eating.

Suddenly, a series of hurried footsteps came from outside the courtyard, wading through the puddles, approaching from afar and running all the way to the gate.

Immediately afterwards, the courtyard gate was suddenly pushed open.

It's Fan Yuan.

He was soaked to the bone, with water still dripping from his hair, but he didn't care about that and spoke urgently as soon as he entered the door.

"Gentlemen."

Zhou Heng has disappeared.

The rain is still falling.

Thousands of miles away, on the outskirts of the mountains, Zhou Heng held his breath, lying behind a patch of damp bushes.

Another figure was crouching beside him; it was Chen Yan, who worked at the same Soaring Tower as him.

The two men were about the same age and had been working together to investigate bandits for more than half a year.

Half a month ago, I heard rumors of bandits roaming the mountains.

The two men patrolled as usual, but this time the tracks were clearer than ever before.

In the urgency of the situation, they disregarded their companions and chased after the enemy deep into the mountains, eventually ending up in this desolate area.

The mountains are high and the forests are dense, making communication impossible. It has been several days since any news has been sent out.

Three years.

Zhou Heng has transformed from a clueless young man who couldn't even see the world clearly into what he is today.

It was this relentless, death-defying determination that finally led him to find it.

Among the group of people on the mountain path, one of them was none other than one of the eight enemies from back then.

At the same time, he was also one of the more prominent leaders in Broken Tiger Stronghold.

At that moment, the figure was leading several subordinates along the mountain path.

Judging by the direction, we're heading back to Broken Tiger Stronghold.

"It's him, no doubt." Zhou Heng's voice was very low, his hand already quietly resting on the knife at his waist.

Don't be impulsive.

Chen Yan grabbed his wrist, his brow furrowed. "He has more than a dozen men with him, and there are only two of us. We're on our way back to the stronghold, and further in is the territory of Broken Tiger Stronghold. If we make a commotion, the whole mountain will be on our hands in no time."

"First, find a suitable place to stay, then go back and report to Old Fan, and we'll discuss it further."

Zhou Heng didn't speak, his eyes fixed on the receding figure.

After a long while, a very soft thud escaped his throat, and he finally slowly released his hand from the knife.

"I know without you saying it."

He had been pursuing this for three years, waiting for the day when he could uproot these eight people completely. He absolutely could not risk ruining the overall situation for the sake of momentary pleasure.

Tolerate.

This time, let's first find out where we can settle down, and then we can discuss the rest later.

Although he was unwilling to accept it, he managed to suppress it.

He gave Chen Yan a wink and was about to get up.

Right at this moment.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted at the bend in the mountain road ahead.

Interspersed with the cries of women and the screams of children.

Their hearts sank, and they looked in the direction of the sound.

It was a group of bandits who had fallen behind and were causing a ruckus around an overturned truck.

A peddler-looking man lay sprawled beside the cart, beaten beyond recognition. Several women and children huddled together, trembling with fear.

One of the bandits drew his knife.

That one slash meant one life.

Zhou Heng's breath hitched, his hand on the knife tightened abruptly, and his body instinctively lunged forward.

But then, it abruptly stopped.

Do not move.

He had been chasing for three years before this opportunity finally arrived. Once he made his move, the figure in the distance would surely flee at the sound, rendering all his previous efforts futile.

But the knife was already halfway up in the air.

If you try to save them, your enemy will run away.

If you don't save them, you'll be watching a life slip away right before your eyes.

Zhou Heng's gaze swung violently between the bandits committing violence on the mountain path and the figure gradually disappearing into the distance.