Don't farm, cultivate immortality!

It feels like a long time has passed, yet it also feels like it was just yesterday.

...

On my way home, a light, gray drizzle began to fall.

The spring rain was continuous, and the drizzling rain made the ground a bit muddy.

The bamboo grove in front of the door has become an empty space; all the bamboo has been taken away, leaving only the sprouting bamboo joints.

The bamboo rhizomes are still there, and after this rain, bamboo shoots will sprout. By summer, a forest will grow back here, but it will take five or six years for them to grow to the same size and become usable timber.

There was no shortage of firewood at home. During the few days that Zhuang Xing was home, he chopped a lot of firewood for the family. He didn't even need an axe; it was just a small favor.

Zhuang Xing spotted a figure wearing a bamboo hat in the distance, standing on the path in front of the bamboo forest. The person had a sword at their waist and was tall. Zhuang Xing felt that the figure was familiar, but the rain and mist blurred his vision, so he couldn't be sure.

He walked to the door and looked closer before he could see the face under the straw hat and the tied-up ponytail.

Zhuang Xing looked up and silently gazed at her face. Seven years had passed, yet she remained unchanged.

"Did my sister come to my house looking for someone?" Zhuang Xing pointed to the wooden house in his home.

She looked at Zhuang Xing, then at the wooden house, and nodded.

"Although the rain is not heavy, getting your clothes wet can easily lead to catching a cold. Please go inside to avoid the rain," Zhuang Xing said.

She looked at Zhuang Xing's face, took off her straw hat, and put it over Zhuang Xing's head.

I don't know if she still recognizes that child from back then.

Chapter 116 Miss Yan, it's been many years

Da da da da...

It hadn't rained for quite some time, and it was as if all the accumulated rainwater had finally come down at once. In just a moment, the rain was already making a sound on the ground.

The roadside weeds trembled as the rain fell. The straw hat shielded Zhuang Xing from the rain. The sky was gloomy, and dark clouds blocked the sunlight. The mist blurred his vision, but Zhuang Xing felt at ease hearing the footsteps behind him.

He still remembered that snowy night, that cold, howling snowy night, in that darkness where he could see nothing, he heard those footsteps and saw the firelight, and returned to his mother's embrace.

From that day on, he was no longer afraid of the dark.

He led the female warrior into the courtyard and called out to the house, "Mother, we have a guest!"

Rain dripped from the eaves, and Mother came out and saw that face.

The mother paused for a moment, as if she were a stranger to the child, or as if she couldn't believe it.

Seven years have passed after all. The person in front of me is still the same, but she has changed a lot. At least compared to her seven years ago, she is very different.

Back then, she was just a young girl; now she's a mother of two.

Time has left its mark on her face; the once brand-new wooden house is now much older, with many places showing signs of repair.

However, the person in front of me hadn't changed at all. When Yan Huai'an left, it was a bright and sunny spring day, as if she had just gone out for a walk and returned because it was raining.

But seven years have indeed passed.

"Miss Yan, it's been many years." The mother bowed respectfully.

This is her savior, her benefactor. To this day, she and her husband still clean that room every day without ever neglecting it.

Miss Yan said she wouldn't be coming back anytime soon, but that meant she would return someday. She didn't know which day it would be, so she waited every day, and today she finally got her wish.

"Mmm," Yan Huai'an replied softly, still the same as before.

"It's raining outside, please come inside and rest."

Yan Huai'an nodded and followed his mother into the house.

Mother took down Yan Huai'an's raincoat and hung it on the wall, while Zhuang Xing also tiptoed and hung up his straw hat.

"Did Miss Yan come alone?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a place to stay?"

"No."

"Is there something urgent that you need to leave for?"

"It's nothing."

"Then please stay here and rest your feet. Miss Yan's room has always been reserved."

"it is good."

This conversation felt so familiar. It was almost the same thing my mother said when she tried to persuade Yan Huai'an to stay in the village that year.

Mother seems to remember very well how to communicate with the female knight-errant.

In short, this left Yan Huai'an behind, and her mother led her into the inner room.

She stopped as she walked past the crib.

The little girl is sleeping inside. She is lying on her back, breathing steadily, sleeping very soundly, with drool dripping from the corner of her mouth.

“This is my daughter, Zhuang Ming,” the mother said. “She just turned one year old last December.”

Miss Huai'an seemed to remember something, and watched for a while longer. She looked at her younger sister's face, then turned to look at Zhuang Xing.

As she walked further, her steps became much lighter.

Mother pushed open the door. The furnishings inside were the same as before. Except for the paintings that had appeared in the room, nothing else had changed. Those paintings were also sent back by the female knight-errant.

Zhuang Xing peeked out from outside the door and saw Miss Huai'an glance around the room, take the sword from her waist, and place it on the table.

"Son, go and brew a pot of tea," his mother said.

"Okay." Zhuang Xing nodded, ran to the kitchen, sprinkled tea leaves at the bottom of the teapot, filled it with water, placed it on the earthen stove, and lit the charcoal fire.

Soon, steam rose from the earthenware teapot. While he was brewing the tea, he heard crying coming from inside the room; his younger sister seemed to have woken up again.

Zhuang Xing took out a teacup, placed the teapot on a tray, and carried the tray inside.

The mother was holding her younger sister and comforting her.

"Son, take the tea in," his mother said. "Miss Yan likes peace and quiet, so don't disturb her too much. Remember to be polite."

"Understood." Zhuang Xing nodded.

His mother thought he couldn't remember what happened back then, but in fact he had never forgotten.

Zhuang Xing delivered the tea to Miss Huai'an's room. Miss Huai'an was already seated, sitting by the window, looking at the rain outside, lost in thought.

"Sister, have some tea. It's freshly brewed hot. Be careful, it'll burn you." Zhuang Xing poured a cup of tea and placed the teapot on the corner of the table.

Yan Huai'an looked down at him and said softly, "Mm."

She picked up her teacup, inside which stood a single tea stalk, the tea reflecting her face.

Although Zhuang Xing wanted to stay with Miss Huai'an for a while longer, he was no longer the baby he used to be, and he couldn't keep clinging to someone else's arms.

If she were to say that she remembered everything from her childhood perfectly, Miss Huai'an's carefully maintained aloof image in front of her mother would crumble, and might even scare her so much that she would never come again.

Zhuang Xing pretended not to remember anything, and after serving the tea, he took the tray, bowed slightly, and left.

After he left, Yan Huai'an looked at the cup of tea, but put it down and stood up again to look at the paintings hanging on the wall.

My father waited until the rain subsided before returning home; it seemed he had gone to someone else's house to take shelter from the rain.

"Miss Yan has arrived," Mother said to Father.

The father paused for a moment, then asked, "Is it Miss Yan who killed the tiger demon?"

Mother nodded: "Miss Yan will be staying at our house for a while, so you must not be impolite."

"I know."

The father appeared extremely solemn. His mother had told him about Yan Huai'an many times. He knew that she was the benefactor of his wife and children, and that she was a divine figure. He had heard about her from Daoist Qingxuzi. This Miss Yan had saved the Daoist who had come down the mountain to exorcise demons fifty years ago.

When such people come to visit, he naturally dares not neglect them.

Although it was late, my father still braved the rain to go out and find someone to buy meat.

After telling his mother, Zhuang Xing took out the flour he hadn't used before, and used honey and eggs sent by Da Chun's family to bake another cake.

This is something the heroine has probably never eaten before; it's perfect for entertaining guests.

This was the second time he had baked a cake on the earthen stove at home. Knowing that the last time the cake was overcooked, he took the earthenware pot out earlier this time.

The cake was baked perfectly this time, without any burnt marks, and it was soft and fluffy. He didn't skimp on the ingredients, spreading a layer of honey on the cake and garnishing it with mulberries before taking it to the heroine's room.

"Sister, try this." Zhuang Xing placed the cake on the table.

The cake looked quite good. Although there weren't many ingredients, he still cut them carefully and made a small plating. It's a pity that if he had added some cream, the cake he made would have been similar to those sold in the shops in his previous life.

Miss Huai'an picked up a piece of cake, looked at it for a while, and then ate it.

She suddenly stopped eating, paused for a moment, and then took two more bites.

"Sister, what do you think?"

Zhuang Xing leaned forward and asked, "Everyone has different tastes. I don't know if Miss Huai'an likes cake. Some people just don't like it."

Miss Huai'an paused for a moment, then said, "Very good."

Zhuang Xing chuckled and said, "This is called a cake. It's made with flour, eggs, and honey. Flour is wheat flour."

“Cake…” She looked at the small plate in her hand.

"It's called a cake because it's made with eggs and flour," Zhuang Xing said, leaning closer. "Actually, it would taste even better if it had cow's milk or goat's milk, but we don't have any in the village, so I just made do."

"If you like it, I'll make it for you again tomorrow. But we don't have much flour left, so I probably won't be able to make it many more times."

"By the way, flour can also be used to make other delicious things. It can be used to make flatbread and guokui, which are also very tasty. It can also be used to make noodles, which can be wrapped around meat and then deep-fried, and they are also very delicious."

"It uses too much oil; it takes a whole pot of oil to fry one batch."

Zhuang Xing spoke enthusiastically from the side, while Yan Huai listened quietly, picking up the cup of cooled tea and taking a sip.

She didn't seem to be heading back to Zhuangxing. Zhuangxing figured she must have been feeling a bit lonely out there, which was why she wanted to come back and visit.

She actually doesn't like being alone at all. Before her mother was away, she would always sneak up to the crib to play with herself.

If Miss Huai'an were left alone in her room to drink tea, she would feel even more lonely.