Don't farm, cultivate immortality!

It feels like watching a pro's speedrun guide for Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice. There are no fancy moves, but it still makes you marvel at how incredibly awesome it is.

Today, as usual, she stood in place, sword in one hand, waiting for the old hunter to launch an attack.

The old hunter changed his usual style; this time he came straight at Yan Huai'an, no longer trying to circle around to his flanks or behind him.

Yan Huai'an nodded and assumed a sword-wielding stance.

With a crisp clang, the sword and the scimitar collided, producing faint sparks.

Yan Huai'an twirled his sword and, using the curved blade, adjusted the old hunter's grip on the knife.

The old hunter paused for a moment, and Yan Huai'an put aside his scimitar, beckoned to him, as if to say, "Continue."

The sound of metal clanging came from the courtyard, like a rhythmic melody.

Miss Huai'an, who is not good with words, teaches in her own way.

She didn't speak, she just used her sword. The sword in her hand was like a conductor's baton, and the old hunter "danced" under her command.

Sometimes Miss Huai'an would tap the old hunter's joints with the back of her sword to help him maintain his posture.

Zhuang Xing kept all of this in mind; he had a very good memory and discovered this soon after he was born.

Normally, an infant could not possibly have such a powerful memory.

He could even recall how Miss Huai'an wielded her sword to slay the tiger that night, which foot she moved first, and the arc her arm and sword traced—he could remember all of these things clearly.

He couldn't explain why he had such a good memory; perhaps it was a perk that transmigrators possessed.

He could sense that he was very different from the babies he knew.

This is, after all, a world he doesn't understand. In this world there are monsters and female warriors. Perhaps in places he doesn't know, there really are people like Nezha, born with the ability to jump and leap and are naturally intelligent.

Compared to Nezha, his situation is nothing more than a drop in the ocean.

He simply has a better memory; this advantage only helps him remember the scene of Miss Huai'an instructing the old hunter, but it doesn't allow him to learn it on his own.

Although his short limbs can't yet make that pose, he will be able to imitate it systematically when he grows up.

To ensure he didn't miss a single detail while imitating, he focused intently, like recording film tape, memorizing the images.

I wonder if this counts as stealing knowledge?

Before long, the sparring match between Yan Huai'an and the old hunter came to an end.

The old hunter's scimitar fell to the ground. His wrist was slapped by the back of Yan Huai'an's sword, and suddenly he could no longer hold the hilt.

He lowered his head in thought, looking at his knife and his hand.

"Thank you for your guidance, sir. I have learned a great deal today."

The old hunter bent down to pick up the knife and bowed slightly.

"Then I won't disturb your peace any longer, sir. I'll take my leave now."

"Goodbye," Yan Huai'an said.

The old hunter was taken aback. This was probably the first time Yan Huai'an had responded to him in a way other than "hmm" or "nodding or shaking his head".

He looked somewhat surprised, but after realizing what was happening, he picked up the felt hat hanging on the fence, brushed off the snow, and chuckled.

Zhuang Xing felt that the way he walked away was much more expansive, and something that had been weighing on him suddenly disappeared.

The figure from behind looked like a spirited young man.

Chapter 18: Don't Lose at the Starting Line

After the old hunter left, Zhuang Xing was put back into his crib by his mother.

The sounds of sharpening knives and running water came from the kitchen next door; today's lunch should be fish soup.

Recalling the fish soup he had last time, Zhuang Xing's mouth involuntarily watered.

Actually, my mother's method for processing live fish was very simple. She didn't add any special seasonings throughout the process. She simply removed the fish's scales and internal organs, then threw the pickled vegetables and fish meat into a wood-fired pot, added water, and stewed it.

Although there are not many steps, the fish soup that is cooked is very fresh and delicious.

Perhaps it's because the ingredients are of very high quality; the game sent by the old hunters is all carefully selected, and it's delicious even with just a simple stew.

After waiting a while, once the meal was ready, Mother first brought the food to Yan Huai'an.

Miss Huai'an always ate with the door closed inside, so you could hardly see her eating. I don't know if she was too shy and didn't want others to see her eating, or if she simply preferred to be alone.

My mother usually brings the food to my bedroom and then collects the dishes after I finish eating.

Today was no different. My mother carried a tray with cooked millet and fish soup, along with a small plate of dried persimmons.

The fish soup was steaming, with a pale white color resembling tofu. My mother scooped the fish head into a bowl. Besides the fish meat and head, there were also some diced pickled radishes in the soup.

Zhuang Xing was more interested in the plate of dried persimmons than the fish soup.

This appears to be a new "tribute" sent by the village chief, and it looks quite appealing.

The pale yellow persimmon flesh is crystal clear, with a thin layer of sugar frosting on the surface, and it looks like it will stretch into strings when you bite into it.

He really wanted to take a bite, but he only had two small front teeth and couldn't bite through something as chewy as a persimmon.

If you really want to eat it, you can only mash it into a paste like a date, add water to make a porridge, and then you can swallow it. But that would take away the pleasure of eating.

When will all my teeth grow in?

Zhuang Xing sighed. During his time as a baby, he had come to realize how important it was to have a good set of teeth.

However, not being able to bite into a persimmon doesn't stop him from drinking soup.

After Miss Huai'an took the food away, her mother carried Zhuangxing to the kitchen to eat.

His mother held a spoon, blew on the milky white fish soup, and slowly fed it to him.

The fish soup had a very mild flavor, with only a slight saltiness and sourness, but it was just as fresh as last time.

After finishing the soup, Zhuang Xing felt warm all over. He squinted his eyes, looking completely satisfied.

After that, the mother picked out some fish meat, carefully removed the bones from the meat bit by bit, ground it into a paste with chopsticks, and then fed it to Zhuangxing in small bites.

Zhuang Xing ate happily, and only after he had eaten and drunk his fill did his mother pick up her chopsticks.

Life as an infant continued without any major upheavals.

The influence of the tiger spirit gradually faded from Zhuangxing's daily life.

Another half month passed, and the mother went out early in the morning. The village chief called her over, saying that he had something to discuss with her.

Today, only Miss Huai'an and Zhuang Xing were in the house. Taking advantage of her mother's absence, Miss Huai'an carried Zhuang Xing to her room like a thief.

Zhuang Xing played simple games with her on her big bed, all kinds of childish tricks, such as hiding things for him to find, or holding his fingers and teaching him to count.

Zhuang Xing tirelessly played along with her, making it seem as if Miss Huai'an was teasing him, but in reality, he was the one amusing Miss Huai'an.

After playing for a while, Zhuang Xing noticed some bamboo slips with inscriptions next to Miss Huai'an's pillow.

It seems she still practices her scenarios with the bamboo slips regularly. Recently, she has been talking to her mother a little more. In addition to nodding "YES" and shaking her head "NO", she has added a few interjections. This morning, when her mother went out, she said "Take care".

Two days ago, her mother brought her food, and she said "Thank you for your hard work" and "Thank you." Although they were short sentences, it was clear that she was trying to push herself.

However, they were all said two days apart, as if after she said something, there was a two-day cooling-off period.

At this rate, in another twenty or thirty years, she will be able to communicate normally with people, which is truly a cause for celebration.

Then again, are the characters carved on these bamboo slips the writing system of this world?

Literacy is a very important skill, and Zhuang Xing felt that he couldn't afford to fall behind from the start, so it was necessary to start teaching literacy from a young age.

He looked at Miss Huai'an's face, then at the bamboo strips, and had an idea.

Since we're going to play anyway, why not learn to read while we play?

With this in mind, he crawled to the pillow, grabbed a bamboo strip with his little hand, and waved it in front of Miss Huai'an.

Miss Huai'an seemed afraid that he would get hurt by the bamboo strips, so she immediately hugged him and took the bamboo strips away.

But Zhuang Xing was not about to give up so easily. He made his stance clear and kept reaching out to grab the bamboo strips.

Seeing his stubbornness, Miss Huai'an rubbed her temples, but finally sat down, hugged him, held his hand, and gently placed the bamboo strip in his hand.

With the first step accomplished, the firm began planning the second step.

As he looked at the words on the bamboo slip, he used his index finger to write and draw on Miss Huai'an's palm.

Compared to the characters he was familiar with, the characters on the bamboo slips were slightly more complex, resembling a combination of traditional and ancient characters.

He didn't recognize most of them, but he could make out the outlines of some and guess what the words meant.

The character he was writing should be the "Yan" from Yan Huai'an. There are two characters on the left side of this character, and the first character on the right looks like a tree. Zhuang Xing silently counted in his mind, "My name is Yan Huai'an, and I am a demon exorcist." This sentence has eleven characters in total, which happens to be the same number of characters on the bamboo slip.

After Zhuang Xing wrote the character "燕" (swallow) three times on Miss Huai'an's palm, Miss Huai'an seemed to take an interest in his action.

She opened her palm and, in front of Zhuang Xing, rewrote the strokes with her fingers. The order of the horizontal, vertical, and diagonal strokes was different from Zhuang Xing's, which was probably the correct stroke order.

Zhuang Xing then imitated her stroke order and wrote it again.

She nodded and started writing another character. Zhuang Xing followed her and eventually wrote all three characters in a row.

"Yan Huai'an," Miss Huai'an said softly, enunciating each word clearly.

This time, she wrote words in Zhuang Xing's palm, writing one word at a time and then reading it aloud.

After she finished reading, she stared intently at Zhuang Xing, her eyes seemingly filled with some kind of expectation.

Okay, I'll give it a try.

Zhuang Xing closed his eyes and recalled the stroke order. This time, he didn't look at the bamboo slips and wrote it blindly in Miss Huai'an's palm.

Although he can't speak clearly yet, he can speak in a similar tone.

"Yan Huai'an." Zhuang Xing murmured to himself as he wrote, his mouth opening and closing, uttering indistinct sounds, but one could vaguely discern that he was pronouncing Miss Huai'an's name.

Miss Huai'an was stunned for a moment, then clapped her hands for him, picked him up and kissed his chubby left cheek.

She seemed very happy because of this.

Chapter 19 When a person is killed, they will die.

Mother returned before noon. Before Mother entered the door, Miss Huai'an put Zhuang Xing back in the crib.