Retirement begins with summoning Yuan Tiangang

Zhao Mingxuan turned a corner and came to a gentle slope with a dozen persimmon trees growing on it.

The leaves are half yellow and half red, and the branches are laden with fist-sized, bright red persimmons that look like little lanterns in the sunlight.

Under the tree stood Lin Feng and his group.

Lin Feng rolled up his sleeves, revealing his tanned forearms, and looked up at the tree.

Zhang Kai stood next to him, holding a long bamboo pole with a small net tied to the top.

Liu Xiaohu had already climbed up a low tree like a monkey and was reaching out to grab a big, red persimmon;

Li Qianqian stood under the tree, holding a small bamboo basket, looking up at Liu Xiaohu nervously, calling out, "Xiaohu, be careful!"

There is one more person.

Zhao Mingxuan's eyes narrowed.

It's Chen Jing'an.

That quiet, shadowy Chen boy actually showed up today.

He didn't climb the tree or pick the persimmons; he just sat on a large rock not far away, hugging his knees, watching quietly with a blank look in his eyes, lost in thought.

Zhao Mingxuan felt that inexplicable emotion welling up inside him again.

Is it jealousy? It doesn't seem so.

Is it disdain? It doesn't seem like that's entirely true.

It was a mixture of... a sense of superiority, curiosity, and a hint of a yearning for that simple joy that even he himself was unwilling to admit.

He hid behind a clump of bushes at the bottom of the slope and watched quietly.

"Got it!"

Liu Xiaohu cheered, picked a persimmon, carefully slid down from the tree, and presented it to Li Qianqian like a treasure: "Sister Qianqian, here you go! This one is the biggest and reddest!"

Li Qianqian took the persimmon, her little face beaming with joy: "Thank you, Xiaohu!"

She took a clean handkerchief from the basket, carefully wrapped the persimmons, and put them back in the basket.

"Brother Feng, that taller tree over there has even more persimmons!"

Liu Xiaohu pointed to another tree.

Lin Feng looked up and said, "That tree is too tall, and its branches are too thin. It's not easy to climb."

"I'll do it," Zhang Kai said in a muffled voice.

He put down the bamboo pole, walked to the tree, looked up and observed it for a moment, then took a few steps back, suddenly accelerated, kicked off the tree trunk with one foot, used the momentum to jump up a section, grabbed a thick branch with both hands, swung his body, and climbed up the tree.

The movements were clean and swift, which surprised Zhao Mingxuan—such skill!

Zhang Kai, as agile as a lynx in the tree, quickly picked several persimmons, scooped them up in his clothes, and carefully climbed down.

Lin Feng took the persimmons, gave one to everyone, and took one for himself. He wiped it on his clothes and took a big bite.

"Mmm...so sweet!" he mumbled, his eyes lighting up.

Liu Xiaohu and Li Qianqian also started eating, their little faces showing satisfied smiles.

Even Zhang Kai silently took a bite, the corners of his mouth curving slightly.

Chen Jing'an did not eat.

Lin Feng handed him a persimmon, but he shook his head and remained sitting quietly.

As Zhao Mingxuan watched them eat persimmons, he suddenly felt a dryness in his mouth.

He recalled the crab roe soup dumplings and bird's nest porridge he had for breakfast that morning—those exquisite, expensive foods that required careful savoring.

But for some reason, watching Lin Feng and the others devour persimmons, the juice dripping down their lips without them even bothering to wipe it away, he actually felt a little envious.

But he immediately suppressed the absurd thought.

Envy? How could he possibly envy these peasants? They were only eating wild fruits from the mountains, while he was eating delicacies.

They were wearing coarse cloth clothes, while he was wearing silk and brocade.

They may be trapped in this small town for the rest of their lives, while he will embark on a spiritual journey to see a wider world.

He is the one who should be envied.

Thinking about it this way, the inexplicable irritation in my heart subsided a bit.

He was about to turn around and leave, no longer wanting to see this "eye-catching" scene, when he suddenly heard Lin Feng speak.

"Jing'an, you really aren't going to eat it? It's so sweet."

Lin Feng walked over to Chen Jing'an and handed her the persimmon again.

Chen Jing'an raised her eyes, looked at Lin Feng, then at Shizi, gently shook her head, and said softly, "No, Brother Feng. I...'m not hungry."

His eyes looked strange.

Zhao Mingxuan was some distance away and couldn't see the details clearly, but he felt that Chen Jing'an was acting strangely today.

His eyes were so still, so still that they didn't seem like those of a ten-year-old child, but rather like... like those of an old man who had seen through the ways of the world and was lost in thought.

"Are you still feeling unwell?" Lin Feng squatted down and asked with concern.

Uncle Chen said you haven't been feeling well the past few days.

"I'm fine." Chen Jing'an lowered her head, looking at her toes.

"It's just... a bit noisy."

Noisy? Zhao Mingxuan looked around.

The autumn wind, birdsong, distant dog barking, and Lin Feng and his friends' laughter nearby... it was certainly not quiet.

But this is just the usual sound of the countryside, what's there to make a fuss about?

Lin Feng seemed to understand, and he patted Chen Jing'an on the shoulder: "Then sit here for a while, we won't bother you."

After saying that, he walked back to the tree and gestured to Liu Xiaohu and Li Qianqian to keep their voices down.

The group lowered their voices, but continued picking and eating persimmons, occasionally whispering and laughing.

As Zhao Mingxuan watched this scene, that indescribable feeling welled up in his heart again.

Lin Feng's care for Chen Jing'an was natural, without any pretense or pity; it was just the kind of... concern between partners.

As for Zhao Mingxuan, in the Zhao family mansion, apart from his parents and a few personal maids and servants, it seems that he has never had such a companion before.

Those who fawned over him were either obsequious or fearful and respectful.

Even when he occasionally wanted to talk to a servant a few more times, the servant would be trembling with fear and overly respectful, which was utterly boring.

He suddenly had an idea.

If... if he weren't the young master of the Zhao family, if he could also have a group of friends like Lin Feng, who could climb trees together, pick wild fruits, and laugh loudly together...

The thought only flashed through his mind for a moment before he ruthlessly extinguished it.

absurd!

Who is Zhao Mingxuan? How could he possibly lower himself to associate with these peasants?

He took a deep breath, preparing to leave.

Just then, he saw Lin Feng take a persimmon out of the basket and hand it to Li Qianqian: "Qianqian, take this back for your mother to try."

Li Qianqian took it and smiled sweetly, "Thank you, Brother Feng!"

Then Lin Feng took out another one and handed it to Liu Xiaohu: "Xiaohu, this is for your mother."

Liu Xiaohu grinned, revealing a set of bright white teeth: "Thanks, Brother Feng!"

Finally, Lin Feng looked at Zhang Kai and handed him one: "Zhang Kai, this is for your dad to have with his drinks."

Zhang Kai silently accepted it and nodded.

Zhao Mingxuan was stunned.

He suddenly understood why Lin Feng had given the biggest and reddest persimmons to Liu Xiaohu and Li Qianqian—not to curry favor, not to flatter, but simply because… Liu Xiaohu’s family was poor, Li Qianqian was a girl, and Zhang Kai’s father loved to drink.

It's that simple.

It was so simple that it felt like something had gently bumped into a part of his heart.

He remembered what he had said to Lin Feng and the others under the tree yesterday.

"The thrushes and parrots I keep in my garden are a hundred times better than these wild birds. If you want one, just ask me, and maybe I'll be in a good mood and give you one to play with."

Looking back now, those words were so... ridiculous, so... cheap.

He turned and quietly left the bushes, retracing his steps.

The sun was still shining brightly, and the wind was still gentle, but his mind was in turmoil, as if someone had stuffed a tangled mess into it.

He suddenly remembered his father's words: "In this world, there are some people who may seem insignificant, but they may be people you can't afford to offend."

He dismissed it at the time, thinking his father was making a mountain out of a molehill.

But now, he suddenly understands a little.

Raymond Lam and his group aren't "unapproachable," they are... different.

They lived in a world that Zhao Mingxuan could neither understand nor enter.

In that world, a wild persimmon can bring a sincere smile, and a word of concern can elicit a response from nature.

And what about Zhao Mingxuan's world? He lives a life of luxury, surrounded by servants, yet he feels... a little empty.

He shook his head, trying to shake off this inexplicable emotion.

He is Zhao Mingxuan, the future head of the Zhao family, and the one who will embark on the path of cultivation.

He didn't need to understand the world of those peasants; he only needed to... look down on it.

Yes, from above.

Thinking about it this way, the strange feeling in my heart finally subsided.

He quickened his pace and headed towards the Zhao family mansion.

His simple clothes were a bit too bright in the sunlight, but he didn't care anymore.

He had to go back and think carefully about what his father had said about the "Marrow Cleansing Pill" and the "Path of Cultivation".

That's the path he should take.

As for Lin Feng and the others... they were nothing more than a few insignificant specks of dust on his life's journey.

But for some reason, those few specks of dust left an indelible mark on his heart.

What he didn't notice was that shortly after he turned and left, Chen Jing'an, who was sitting on the big rock, slowly raised his head and quietly glanced at the bushes where he had just been hiding.

In those empty eyes, there seemed to be a very faint, almost invisible glimmer of light that flashed by.

Like fleeting ripples on the surface of water in autumn.