“Sleeping so early? Get up, all of you, for Old Hu!”
The courtyard doors banged open, and a burly man in a servant’s uniform barged in, glaring fiercely at Meng Hao and the fatty, who were still fast asleep.
“You two brats! From now on, you’ll chop ten extra logs for me. Otherwise, Old Hu will tear you to shreds!”
the burly man threatened.
“Greetings, Old Hu. This humble one...”
Meng Hao scrambled out of bed and stood nervously to one side. Before he could finish speaking, the burly man glared at him.
“Humble one, my ass! Do you think Old Hu is just blowing hot air?”
Sensing the man's hostility and seeing his burly physique, Meng Hao hesitated before speaking up:
“But... the Senior Brother in charge of chores only assigned us ten logs each per day.”
“Those extra ten logs are for this old man!”
The burly man snorted coldly.
Meng Hao fell silent, his mind racing. Having just arrived at the immortal sect, he was indignant at being bullied so soon. But the man was tall and muscular, while he was thin and weak; he stood no chance in a fight. As he hesitated, his eyes caught the deep teeth marks on the corner of the table. Remembering the fatty's extraordinary strength while sleepwalking, he decided he had to take a gamble. He immediately turned and shouted at the fatty:
“Fatty! Someone stole your steamed buns and made off with your wife!”
The moment the words left Meng Hao's mouth, the fatty bolted upright. With his eyes still tightly shut, he let out a wild howl, his face contorting into a ferocious grimace.
“Who stole my buns?! Who took my wife?! I'll beat you to death! I'll bite you to death!”
The fatty lunged off the bed, flailing his arms and thrashing wildly. The burly man stared in a daze for a moment before stepping forward and delivering a resounding slap to the fatty's face.
“You dare howl in front of Old Hu?”
The slap connected, but a split second later, a bloodcurdling shriek tore from the burly man's throat. With his eyes still fast shut, the fatty had clamped his teeth onto the man's arm. No matter how hard the burly man thrashed, the fatty refused to let go.
“Let go! Let go, you crazy bastard! Get off me!”
The burly man was merely a servant, not a cultivator. Though years of manual labor had made him robust, the agonizing pain now had him drenched in a cold sweat. He punched and kicked, but nothing could make the fatty release his grip. Instead, the fatty bit down even deeper, tearing through flesh until blood splattered everywhere, as if he intended to rip a whole chunk of meat right off.
His agonizing screams echoed out of the room, instantly drawing the attention of the servants in the neighboring quarters. Just then, a voice as cold as winter frost drifted in from outside.
“Too noisy.”
It was the horse-faced youth. Hearing his voice, the burly man trembled violently. Despite his face contorting in agony, he did not dare make another sound.
“If Senior Brother gets angry, neither of us will survive this! Hurry, make him let go! I won't ask for those ten logs anymore, alright?!”
the burly man hissed through his teeth, pleading desperately.
Meng Hao had not expected the sleepwalking fatty to be this terrifying. Realizing things had gone far enough, he quickly stepped forward, patted the fatty gently, and whispered into his ear:
“The steamed buns are back, and your wife has returned.”
The fatty instantly calmed down and released his bite, then flailed his way back to bed, his bruised face resuming its deep slumber.
The burly man, still terrified, glanced at the fatty, and without another word, ran out of the room. To one side, Meng Hao was stunned for a long time, looking at the fatty with admiration, then carefully returned to his own bed to sleep.
The next morning.
At dawn, bells rang out from outside the room. The sounds seemed to carry some strange energy, instantly jolting anyone who heard them awake. Amidst the chaotic noises coming from outside, Fatty also opened his eyes, staring blankly at the messy footprints all over his body, then touching his face.
"What happened to me last night? Why does my whole body ache as if I've been beaten up...?"
Meng Hao, who was putting on his menial servant's uniform, remained silent upon hearing this. After a moment, he finally spoke.
"Nothing, everything's normal."
"But why does my face feel swollen?"
"Perhaps the mosquitoes are too big."
"But why is there still blood in my mouth?"
"You fell to the ground last night, several times."
Meng Hao quickly pushed open the room door. Just as he was about to step out, he hesitated for a moment, turned his head to look at Fatty, and actually said:
"Fatty, you should grind your teeth from now on. It's best to make them a bit sharper."
"Oh? You say that too? My father also told me the same thing."
Fatty, enduring the pain while putting on his menial servant's uniform, said in surprise.
Bathed in the sunlight, Meng Hao and Fatty left the room and began their woodcutting duties for the menial servants' quarter of the Kaoshan Sect.
Each person had to cut ten trees a day. Beyond the northern menial servants' quarter stretched an endless range of wild mountains. The trees were dense, not large but numerous, stretching as far as the eye could see. From a distance, it looked like an immense, boundless forest.
Carrying the axe issued by the menial servants' quarter, Meng Hao rubbed his shoulders; both his arms ached and throbbed. This axe was very heavy, and Fatty was also panting heavily. The two went up the wild mountain, found their assigned area, and soon, the incessant thud-thud sounds of continuous tree-chopping echoed.
"My father is a rich landlord, and I'll be a rich landlord too. I'm not a menial servant..."
Fatty, with a face as mournful as if attending a funeral, swung his axe and chopped.
"Don't you think these immortals are really strange? They have magic, so do they really need to light fires? Why do they make us chop wood...?"
Compared to Fatty, who was chattering away beside him, Meng Hao was too exhausted to speak, sweat pouring down him like rain. Back in Yunjie County, he had been poor and rarely ate meat, so his body was thin and his strength wasn't great. Now, after only half an incense stick's time, he was already leaning against an unchopped tree trunk, panting heavily.
Looking at Fatty again, although he was also trembling with exhaustion, he was still grumbling mournfully while chopping wood. Clearly, despite his young age, he was much stronger than Meng Hao.
Meng Hao forced a smile and shook his head. Using his break time, he took out the Qi Condensation Manual to read, and quietly, following the descriptions within, sensed the spiritual energy in the heavens and earth.
Time passed, and dusk quickly arrived. That day, Meng Hao had only managed to chop two trees, while Fatty had chopped a full eight. Combined, their harvest was only enough for one person to eat their fill. The two decided to pool their efforts; Fatty went to fetch the food, and they returned to their room to share it before collapsing onto their beds, utterly exhausted, and falling fast asleep.
Only when Fatty's snores once again filled the room did Meng Hao crawl out of bed. His eyes shone with determination. Forcing himself to endure the hunger and exhaustion, he silently picked up the Qi Condensation Scroll and began to read.
"In the past, when I studied for the exams, I often read until dawn, so I am already used to this," he thought. "Although life is exhausting right now, it is, after all, a path forward. I, Meng Hao, refuse to believe that after failing the imperial examinations, I still cannot practice cultivation in this sect."
Meng Hao's eyes grew even more resolute, filled with determination. He lowered his head and immersed himself in comprehension.
Deep into the night, Meng Hao was not sure when he finally drifted off, but it seemed that even in his dreams, he was sensing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. Woken by the morning bell early the next day, his eyes were bloodshot when he opened them. Gritting his teeth, he dragged himself out of bed to continue chopping wood alongside the plump youth, who was as full of vigor as ever.
One day, two days, three days... and then two months passed. Over these two months, Meng Hao gradually grew capable of chopping four trees a day, but he spent the vast majority of his time sensing spiritual energy, causing the bloodshot veins in his eyes to grow even more pronounced. On the evening of one particular day, Meng Hao, panting heavily, took a break and sat down cross-legged. Before long, his entire body trembled. In an instant, he felt a tingling numbness spread through his limbs, as if an invisible wisp of energy was condensing within his flesh and blood.
Immediately after, a wisp of spiritual energy manifested within him. Though it merely flickered into existence before vanishing, it was enough to make Meng Hao snap his eyes open in excitement. His fatigue seemed to melt away, the bloodshot veins in his eyes receded significantly, and with trembling hands, he clutched the Qi Condensation Scroll tightly. For the past month, he had eaten little and slept even less; aside from chopping wood, he had spent every waking moment sensing spiritual energy. Now, at this very moment, his efforts had finally borne fruit, greatly uplifting his spirit.