Sword Sect Little Demon Child, Three and a Half Years Old and Extremely Fierce

Listening to stories every day is very pleasant.

The food was a bit odd.

Because Yan Chuan had run out of steamed buns and flour.

So he started trying to make steamed buns using plants from the demon realm.

All attempts failed.

The plants in the demon realm are different from those in the cultivation realm.

In the cultivation world, spiritual wheat is ground into powder, mixed with water, kneaded, and steamed to make steamed buns.

Plants from the demon realm were ground into powder, mixed with water, and kneaded, turning into a black lump that emitted a strange smell and whose edibility was unknown.

Yan Chuan tried for a day, but finally gave up.

"Let's make porridge," he announced, his voice carrying the tragic solemnity of a martyr going to his death.

So for the next few days, we ate porridge every day.

I ate this kind of porridge every day when I was with my dad in the Demon Realm.

I never imagined that following the Heavenly Sword Sect would still leave me with no way to escape.

Before eating any plant, Gu Chenguang would spend a long time flipping through "Tales of the Demon Realm" to make sure that eating it wouldn't kill him.

"This is edible." He flipped through three pages to confirm.

"This is edible too." He flipped through two more pages to confirm.

"This..." He turned five pages and fell silent.

"What's wrong with this?" Yan Chuan asked anxiously.

Gu Chenguang closed the book: "This is uncertain. Let's try another one."

And so, relying on a book called "Tales of the Demon Realm" and Yan Chuan's cooking skills, we survived in the Demon Realm for 3 days.

Because on the night of the fourth day, something happened.

Yan Chuan found a new type of mushroom in the valley.

He made the mushrooms into a paste.

The taste... is very fragrant.

It smells wonderful.

The smell is a little off.

But I didn't think much of it.

finished eating.

Everyone continued to sit around the campfire.

Elder Wangji continued telling the story.

It tells the story of his interesting travels in the world of cultivation when he was young.

Then~~

Suddenly, I saw the mushroom at the entrance of the cave turn into a tiny person and start dancing.

It's not a metaphor.

He has truly turned into a villain.

A little mushroom person wearing a floral dress was hopping and skipping at the entrance of the cave.

Three circles to the left, three circles to the right, wiggle your butt, spin around.

It even waved at me.

Come on, come on~ let's dance~

I rubbed my eyes.

The little mushroom man is still here.

I rubbed it again.

It's still there, and there's one more.

Two little mushroom people are holding hands and spinning around.

I turned to look at Suning.

— Su Ning was squatting on the ground, talking to a blade of grass.

"What did you say your name was? Little Grass? That's a pretty common name. Do you want me to give you a nicer one?"

The little grass, of course, did not answer.

But Suning nodded seriously: "Oh, you like the original name? Okay, then you can still call yourself Little Grass."

— I looked at Yan Chuan again.

Yan Chuan was holding his cleaving sword, his expression as serious as if he were in a meeting.

"Brother, I know you're cracked, but don't cry... I'll find you the best swordsmith to repair it when we get back."

"What? You want to have gemstones set in? Fine, fine, set them in, set them in!"

I'll keep watching.

—Murong Zhuo was speaking to his mirror.

He was also talking in the mirror.

Two people—no, one person and their mirror image—were chatting enthusiastically.

Your hair looks great today.

"The same to you."

"Your eyes are so beautiful."

"The same to you."

"You are the most handsome sword cultivator I have ever seen."

"The same to you."

I:"……"

Fifth Senior Brother, that's enough.

—Gu Chenguang is the quietest.

He sat on the ground, holding a pen in his hand, writing in a notebook.

But his handwriting was crooked and messy, even uglier than my handwriting when I was three and a half.

I leaned closer to take a look.

What he wrote was:

"The mush tonight is weird, it's poisonous. I suspect the Mushroom Demon..."

There's another line after that, which I completely don't understand.

—I looked at Shen Qingchen.

He stood in front of the stone wall, his expression as focused as if he were looking at a peerless sword manual.

Then he began practicing swordsmanship.

There was nothing in my hands.

But every move he made was very serious.

Thrust, chop, flick, hang, cloud, point, collapse, intercept, scissors, wrist flourish...

Every movement was as precise as a textbook.

Every move was imbued with a sharp, fierce sword intent.

If he had a sword, this would definitely be a sword technique at the Nascent Soul level.

But he had no sword in his hand.

He performed a set of... air sword techniques in the air.

Finally, I looked at Elder Wangji.

Elder Wangji sat cross-legged in the corner, his hands clasped together, his face serene, and a faint Buddhist light emanated from his body.

I breathed a sigh of relief. The elder truly lived up to his Nascent Soul stage reputation; he remained composed.

"Elder," I leaned closer, "Are you alright?"

Elder Wangji slowly opened his eyes.

His eyes were calm.

"Little Daiyu," he began, his voice solemn and dignified, "Buddha has just come to see me."

I:"……"

"He gave me a string of Buddhist prayer beads," Elder Wangji said, opening his empty palm. "He said it was an ancient ritual implement, the kind that had been blessed. He also gave me a begging bowl, saying it was for alms-begging only."

I stared at his empty palm: "...And then?"

"I refused." Elder Wangji sighed. "I told Buddha that I am not a real monk, but just a sweeper and laborer, and I cannot accept his gifts."

I thought to myself: Elder, you are quite principled.

Elder Wangji paused for a moment, then said, "Then Buddha gave me a bag of spirit stones."

My ears perked up. "Did you accept it?"

Elder Wangji remained silent for a while.

"Take it."

"..."

"Then Buddha disappeared." He looked down at his empty palms, a hint of regret in his voice. "What a pity. That bag of spirit stones was quite heavy."

I was just about to say something when suddenly~

"Bang! Boom—"

Shen Qingchen slammed his finger into the cave wall.

Gravel flew everywhere.

A corner of the cave collapsed.

Everyone was stunned.

The mushroom man also disappeared.

The little grass stopped talking.

The Cracked Sword fell silent.

Murong Zhuo in the mirror stopped talking to him.

Even Buddha stopped giving out spirit stones.

Elder Wangji was the first to react: "Run!"

He scooped me up and rushed out of the cave.

The senior students scrambled to catch up.

As soon as I ran out, I heard a rumbling sound behind me.

The cave... has completely collapsed!

In the pile of rubble, the eldest brother stood in the very center, maintaining his sword-drawing posture.

His fingers were covered in dust, and his sleeves were torn in several places by gravel, but he looked...very lucid.

"Senior Brother!" Su Ning rushed over, "Are you alright?!"

Shen Qingchen withdrew his hand and looked down at his fingertips.

"I just... saw a sword manual on the stone wall." His voice was low, tinged with confusion. "A very exquisite sword manual. I couldn't help myself..."

Yan Chuan asked cautiously, "And then?"

"Then I practiced it once more." Shen Qingchen paused, "The last move, I couldn't control myself."

Everyone fell silent.

Su Ning's voice trembled: "Were we... just possessed by some kind of evil spirit?"

Yan Chuan scratched his head: "Maybe...maybe...the mushrooms aren't ripe?"

Murong Zhuo wiped the mirror: "What did I just talk about with myself in the mirror? I can't remember."

Gu Chenguang opened "Tales of the Demon Realm" and read it aloud.

"'The Enchanted Blue-Headed Serpent,' page 327 of the Chronicles of the Demon Realm. Note: Hallucinations may occur after consumption. Symptoms include, but are not limited to, seeing things that are not there, hearing sounds that are not there, talking to imaginary friends, and behaving in ways that are not your usual self."

He paused.

"It is recommended to take this medicine under the guidance of a professional. A professional refers to an alchemist with detoxification abilities."

He closed the notebook.

"We don't have that here."

Everyone fell silent again.

Elder Wangji looked around: "We can't stay here. The cave has collapsed, and the commotion was quite loud. Let's find another place and wait until number 28."

Everyone nodded.

The eldest brother was walking at the very back, still looking at his fingers.

I leaned closer and asked, "Senior Brother, are you still thinking about that sword manual?"

He was silent for a while.

"That sword manual... is indeed very exquisite."

"But it's fake."

"I know," he paused, "but the brilliance is real."

I:"……"

It’s over.

Senior Brother has reached a new level of possession.

…………

For the next few days, Yan Chuan didn't touch the mushrooms again.

He would even walk around mushrooms whenever he saw them.

Gu Chenguang folded a corner of the page with the "Iridescent Blue-and-Green Fungus" and wrote a small note next to it: "This fungus is on the Heavenly Sword Sect's list of prohibited fungi. Violators will be punished by sweeping the floor for a month."

..............................

Day 7.

Finally, the 28th has arrived.

A group of people set off before dawn.

The journey was smooth and unobstructed.

We climbed over Black Wind Valley again.

This time they crawled very skillfully. The six of them, plus a three-and-a-half-year-old, lined up in a row, lying on the ground like a well-trained line of caterpillars.

Soon, we arrived at the outskirts of the commercial district.

The outline of the commercial district can be seen in the distance.

The shops are densely packed, the crowds come and go, and wisps of smoke rise from the various food stalls.

The group breathed a sigh of relief.

You can blend into the crowd immediately.

We'll be able to take a boat back soon.

Soon I'll be able to return to the Heavenly Sword Sect and eat the steamed buns made by Yan Chuan—normal steamed buns, not mushy ones.

Soon I will be able to sleep on my own stone bed, see my own moon, and breathe air without the smell of sulfur.

At this moment...

Fellow Daoists

A voice suddenly rang out from behind.

Everyone froze.

Turn around.