Don't farm, cultivate immortality!

"Da Chun wrote it himself; he can read now."

The middle-aged man and the old man exchanged a glance, and a look of surprise appeared in their eyes.

"Da Chun can really read now?"

Zhuang Xing nodded: "He is working very hard in his cultivation on the mountain. He said he would definitely come home to visit in a few years."

He also took out the money that Da Chun had entrusted to him to take home.

"This...Master Zhuang..." The middle-aged man was still somewhat reserved. "No one in our family can read. Could you please read what's written on it for us?"

“Of course.” Zhuang Xing nodded.

"Please come inside and we'll talk."

The middle-aged man brought over stools and invited Zhuang Xing and his son to sit down. Then a woman came out and brought them tea.

Zhuang Xing then opened the envelope and read the words inside to them.

Although they were just simple words, the two uncles sighed slightly, and the woman even shed tears.

"Go and call the eldest daughter back. Although she's married to someone else, it was Da Chun who wrote the letter, so she should still know," the middle-aged man said.

The woman nodded, went outside, and returned with a young woman.

"Father, has Dachun really written back?" the woman asked loudly.

"It's a letter written in that boy's own handwriting, can you believe it? He can actually read now." The man and woman became much more relaxed in their conversation.

"Hahaha!"

The woman laughed loudly, but after laughing, she sighed.

"Alas, it's a pity that he wasn't home when I got married."

The woman strode in; this must be Da Chun's older sister.

Zhuang Xing read the letter home again. As the woman listened, she was no longer as carefree as before, and she wiped away her tears along with the woman.

"Thank you for delivering this message for my brother, young Taoist priest." The woman wiped away her tears. "He is simple-minded, but kind-hearted. I hope you will take good care of him."

"Actually, it was Dachun who took care of me a lot," Zhuang Xing said.

Da Chun's family asked a few questions, and Zhuang Xing answered truthfully. Knowing that Da Chun was doing well on the mountain, they were relieved and said they would kill a chicken to treat Zhuang Xing and his son to a meal at their home.

The two of them declined several times, but couldn't resist the enthusiasm and accepted a basket of eggs.

They also wrote back to Dachun, which Zhuang Xing wrote down on his behalf.

The family only taught Dachun to cultivate himself well on the mountain and listen to the Taoist priest's words.

He also talked about some changes in his family, saying that his eldest sister, who loved him the most, got married, and he now has a younger brother who is a little over a year old. When he comes back, his eldest sister will probably have a child, and he will become an uncle.

Most of them were jokes. It seems that when Da Chun was at home, his family often teased him. His slow-witted nature could indeed be quite amusing in some situations.

However, it's clear that his family is eagerly awaiting his return home.

Zhuang Xing carefully put the letter away. The four people whispered in his ear, one after another, and before he knew it, he had written a long letter.

As they left, it was already getting dark. Da Chun's family took two more pieces of cured pork ribs from the stove and put them into Zhuang Xing's father's hands before letting them leave.

Clutching the thick letter, Zhuang Xing felt that a letter from home was indeed worth a fortune.

Chapter 113 A Life of Immortality

After delivering the letter, I returned home to find the sun almost setting.

As Zhuang Xing stepped into the house, a fire was burning under the stove, and the old hen his father had bought was already stewing in the wood-fired pot.

They returned just in time. The father went forward to help scoop up the chicken soup, and Zhuang Xing went to scoop up the rice. Soon, the food was laid out on the table.

The fat chicken was stewed until tender, with a layer of glistening oil floating on the surface. In addition to the chicken, there were sliced ​​white radishes, freshly picked bamboo shoots, mushrooms, and a ginseng root that Zhuang Xing had brought back. A fragrant aroma wafted into the air. With a gentle pull of her chopsticks, the chicken leg separated from the bone.

Mother placed the chicken leg into Zhuang Xing's bowl, and Zhuang Xing didn't stand on ceremony, grabbing it with his hands and gnawing on it. The chicken had been stewed all afternoon and was extremely tender; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say it melted in his mouth.

The white radish and bamboo shoots, having absorbed the broth, are even more tender. This chicken soup only has a little salt added, yet it tastes incredibly delicious.

The mother held her little sister, who had just woken up, blew on the chicken soup to cool it down with a spoon, and fed her small sips.

The little girl took a sip of soup, her eyes narrowed, and she cried out twice, clapping her little hands together. Seeing her so lively, Zhuang Xing couldn't help but smile.

After all, she's my sister, so I can't help but like her.

Her baby teeth hadn't all grown in yet, and her mouth was drafty.

After the meal, Zhuang Xing looked at her with a smile.

"Come and hold your little sister too." Mother handed over the baby's swaddling clothes.

Zhuang Xing readily accepted the offer, sitting down on the stool and carefully placing the younger sister on his lap.

"Waaaaah~"

The younger sister and Zhuang Xing looked at each other. She stared straight at Zhuang Xing, and Zhuang Xing stared back at her.

Zhuang Xing placed his right index finger in front of her and gently shook it. She reached out her little hand to grab it.

After trying to grab it a few times without success, the corners of her mouth turned down, and she looked like she was about to cry.

At this moment, Zhuang Xing snapped his fingers and conjured a small flame.

The little sister's expression suddenly froze, and the flickering flames reflected in her black eyes. Suddenly, her tears turned into laughter.

"Woo-wah~ woo-wah~"

Zhuang Xing stopped teasing her, extinguished the flame, and once again placed his index finger in front of her.

Her little hand gripped Zhuang Xing's index finger tightly; her chubby little hand was soft and tender. Then, she suddenly opened her mouth and bit Zhuang Xing's fingertip.

It didn't hurt, but she seemed unwilling to let go so easily. It was only after her mother tickled her that Zhuang Xing took the opportunity to remove her finger.

Zhuang Xing looked at the faint bite marks on his fingers, smiled, and grew to love his younger sister even more.

...

The next day, Yunling visited Zhuang Xingjia.

Her mother invited her to lunch at her home, where she cooked both the cured pork from her own kitchen and the cured pork ribs that Da Chun's family had given her.

Zhuang Xing took out the wheat and used the stone mill at home to grind it into flour. Actually, he could grind the wheat into flour on the mountain, but he brought it home specifically so that his father and mother could see it.

"Wheat is hard to eat when boiled, but if you grind it into flour with a stone mill, you can knead it and make many things."

Zhuang Xing kneaded the dough as he spoke.

At noon, he made noodles with some flour and cooked soup noodles with the leftover chicken broth from last night.

"Xiao He, let's divide up some fields this year and plant some wheat," the father said, holding a clean bowl, still looking like he wanted to continue.

"Alright," Mother replied.

Zhuang Xing then left the wheat seeds he had brought to his father.

That evening, Zhuang Xing baked another cake, this time using the wild honey he had brought back.

Since we didn't have a proper stove at home, we took down the wood-fired pot and roasted it on the earthen stove. It was slightly charred, but it had a crispy outer layer, which gave it a unique flavor.

The middle part of the cake was still soft. Zhuang Xing held his little sister and tried to feed her the cake.

My little sister can't chew anything too hard, but the cake is soft and contains eggs, making it perfect as a complementary food for a baby like her whose teeth haven't all come in yet. It's a very nutritious food for her, and she seemed to enjoy it very much.

At dusk, Yunling went home. After seeing Yunling off, Zhuang Xing held his little sister and sat under the eaves of his house.

There was only a dim, yellowish light in front of me. The sky was gloomy at dusk. In the distance, I could see several villagers carrying hoes walking on the road. The bamboo forest swayed in the wind and rustled. My mother was tidying up the dishes in the house, while my father carried hot water and a towel into the bathhouse.

His little sister fell asleep in his arms. He sat there quietly, watching the sunset slowly descend, feeling that even the idyllic life couldn't be better.

Even if a deity descended to earth and asked him to go to heaven and join the ranks of immortals, he felt he didn't want to go.

Isn't the essence of spiritual practice simply about achieving a state of carefree freedom and unrestrained existence?

He likes this kind of day, he likes this kind of life.

After a period of quiet meditation on the mountain, he came down and revisited the place, and his state of mind seemed to have changed somewhat.

He still wanted to go out and see the world, but he cherished these ordinary moments even more.

He closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

Having not practiced swordsmanship for two days and simply stayed at home, his aura became even more natural.

He had a sudden realization, and the sword lying by the wall hummed slightly.

He had used this sword for a year and was already familiar with its weight and patterns, but he was still a little rusty when using it.

He opened his eyes and felt at ease. He held his little sister in one arm and placed the other hand on his waist, slightly clenching his fist.

The sword was suddenly drawn, and by the time he came to his senses, he already had it in his hand.

When he gripped the sword again, he felt as if it were his own arm; as soon as he released his grip, the sword returned to its sheath.

He smiled slightly, stood up, but didn't look at the sword. Instead, he held his little sister, put her in the crib, and stood aside, watching her sleeping face.

...

On the third day, Bai Yu seemed to have reached an agreement with the village. The village chief led them around the village, as if he was helping them choose a place to build houses.

Zhuang Xing didn't know how many more days he could stay at home, so he went to find Senior Brother Lingwei to ask about the dates, so as not to leave in a hurry.

"Let's go back to the temple after Bai Yu and the others finish building their houses," said Senior Brother Lingwei.

Although they have thirty-three people, they do not intend to build thirty-three houses.

It seems they plan to do what they did before: separate men and women, like dormitories, and build two slightly larger houses that can provide shelter from the wind and rain, which will be enough.

Let's just sleep here for now, and then we'll fix it up slowly later.

It won't take much time. If we get help from the villagers, we can build the framework in about a month and a half and move in.

Zhuang Xing felt relieved; only three days had passed, and there was still plenty of time.

Having nothing to do that day, Zhuang Xing went to check it out as well. Many villagers also gathered around to watch. Two days passed, and the news spread. After all, with so many new neighbors, most people were quite concerned about something that was closely related to them.

Chapter 114 won't disturb the little sister.