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Chapter 135 - Tensions (II)

  Chapter 135

  Tensions (II)

  Strangely, only Wan Lan agreed to come along.

  Long Tao... well, he was hiding in the corner, brooding over something.

  Xi Zhao said he had to 'meditate upon his heart', though he was probably just a touch too embarrassed to share a meal with that young woman.

  Dai Xiu said she had to 'make sure Junior Brother meditates properly'; it's kind of cute how jealous she is without realizing it. It's not 'romantic' jealousy--far from it--she simply fears that some stranger will take away her Junior Brother. Just your average sisterly possessiveness.

  Light, on the other hand, was a bit more blunt, simply saying, 'If that strange woman is going to be there, I'm not going!'.

  Thus, only Wan Lan agreed to come with me.

  Old Zemin seemed a bit surprised when only the two of us emerged from the tent, though he didn't ask any questions, thankfully. As for whether I felt safe leaving them alone? I mean, they weren't alone--Long Tao was there. They were far safer than even I was.

  We didn't walk far--perhaps forty yards or so--to the encirclement of much taller and fancier-looking tents. As always, comfort wasn't for the peasants, I guess.

  Though the night was descending, the roaring flames made it seem as though it was day. There were several table arrangements, and though quite a few eyes glanced over at us, they weren't being overtly hostile--likely because of the old guy by our side.

  He led us to the centermost table, where that Yahui girl and that rude guy from earlier also sat, alongside a few more other youngbloods and a few more older guys.

  There wasn't any food on the table just yet, though the scent...

  Ah. It's enough.

  I can smell the spices. My brain lit up like I imagine an addict's would, but I didn't care. I'm going to eat a meal with spices. I mean, I hope; it's not going to be one of those scenarios where they literally give the two of us some oiled-up fat and they keep all the good stuff for themselves?

  Please don't! You can insult me as much as you want, call me names, and look at me with as much hostility as you'd like, but don't play with a guy's hunger...

  "You've already met Yahui," Old Zemin spoke up as we sat down on the bench. "That young man next to her is our Sect Master's one and only disciple and the brightest star of our Sect--Yu Bao. He'd reached Foundation Establishment before turning sixteen and is likely to break through into the Spirit Manifestation Realm within the next year. You will seldom find a more talented youth than him!" Well, here's one by my side. And four more back over in the tent.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Not that I would ever say it out loud.

  Besides, the rude guy didn't even acknowledge me, trying to pry Yahui girl into a conversation that she was desperately trying to pry herself out of.

  "I have indeed never seen a young hero like him before." Look, I can kiss ass with the best of them. And if that's what I have to do to have a proper meal? Hell, I'll kiss ass. "Your sect is blessed, Old Zemin," he'd asked me to call him that again and seemed affronted that I'm not, so I really had no choice.

  "Ho ho, indeed. It's not just Yu Bao, either--all children here are extremely talented and have all reached Foundation Establishment before turning twenty." Yeah, well, I have a girl in a tent that will likely reach it before she turns seven, so, you know...

  If only I could brag about my monster disciples. That's basically the one bad thing about having them--you can never tell anyone.

  "Your Disciple is rather talented too, fellow Daoist," he commented. "Sixth stage at the age of sixteen, with the scant few resources that this area has, is quite impressive."

  Though there is some sincerity in his words, there's that inherent superiority that they all ooze. In his mind, he was being genuinely nice, though that got filtered through the tongue that had spoken aloofly one too many times.

  "Thank you, old Zemin. Wan'er is, indeed, quite talented... for these parts." I shot the young girl an apologetic look, but she seemed rather understanding of the circumstances and even played along.

  "It's quite unseemly to speak of my talents in front of such amazing Disciples, Senior," Oh, Wan Lan, Wan Lan--it seems you're the only one of the kids with any kind of social grace! "I merely got faintly lucky, but that is all."

  "Ho ho, rather humble," he laughed, and a few others laughed, but it was laughter suffused with mockery.

  Honestly, I wanted to be the brave type and tell them all off, saying that she'd surpass them all in no time... but I didn't. Even Wan Lan was shooting me looks to just keep my mouth shut, so I did.

  Pride being hurt, to me, doesn't matter; I'd been hurt by words in ways none of these assholes could come close to, even if they had a century to do it. But that's just me. I know that people here care a lot about how they're perceived, and being so openly insulted could potentially scar someone, especially someone as young as Wan Lan, in ways that I don't understand.

  I'm thankful none of the kids came, at least.

  "Ah, here it is, the first batch," I looked over and saw a small group of kids carrying large trays of steaming meat.

  The closer they got, the more I wanted to salivate. But I held it back.

  It was... beautiful. Seared just right across the surface, mellowly red within, with a sheen of oil glimmering atop its surface. Dust-like particles lay sprinkled everywhere, with chopped-up herbs and even diced cloves of garlic adding more to the ambiance.

  Look at the texture.

  The color.

  The scent.

  Oh my God.

  There are even small batches of red sauce.

  I will devour this, wolf it down like a beast, and embarrass myself in ways that will make them call me a backwater moron 'till the day I die, but I don't care.

  "Hm? Hold for a moment," Old Zemin's cautioned voice drew me out; glancing toward him, I saw that he, as well as everyone else, was looking somewhere up to the sky.

  "What is it, Elder?" one of the disciples asked.

  "We have guests." The word 'guests' was spoken with an even colder tone than when they were referring to us. "Looks like we will have to postpone our dinner." "No, no, no, you can't do this to me! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!! "The Mountain is coming."

  JUST ONE MEAL!

  ALL I WANTED WAS JUST ONE MEAL!

  NOOOOOOO!

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