Starting Cultivation During a Trip

At that moment, a pleasant cellphone ringtone pierced the silent, cold street.

Zhang Fan fished out his phone and glanced at the screen: incoming call, Li Yishan.

”Hello.”

”Old Zhang, you’re actually available now. Is there a woman in your life?”

Li Yishan’s voice came through the phone.

”What do you mean? Why would you ask that?”

”The thing men fear most is no action in the day, no action at night. Now I can’t reach you day or night— either you’re busy with the action, or the action’s too busy for you...” Li Yishan analyzed seriously.

”...”

”Is it that coworker of yours, Jiang Lai?”

”Do you have something to say or not?” Zhang Fan rolled his eyes and asked.

”Yes, yes, of course. That thing I mentioned this morning, so what do you think?”

”What do you mean, what do I think?” Zhang Fan was confused.

”Xu Zhixia... She’s back in Yujing City. I don’t believe you feel nothing.” Li Yishan’s voice floated over the line.

”Now’s the chance to rekindle things. And you know, her family background’s pretty solid...”

”If you meet a rich woman, seize the moment— move into a mansion overnight... just imagine years of struggle erased.”

Li Yishan was being exceedingly generous, looking out for Zhang Fan’s future happiness.

Compared to Zhang Fan’s single-parent household, with his dad slogging all year on construction sites, Xu Zhixia’s family was leagues ahead in terms of comfort.

Back in university, even Zhang Fan’s phone—the one that was so worn it was cutting into his crotch—was ultimately replaced at Xu Zhixia’s expense.

Now the beauty was back in town, so naturally the prospect of rekindling old love was on the table.

”I saw her today.”

Zhang Fan paused for a moment before replying.

”You saw her?” Li Yishan was stunned, then quickly asked, ”Where? Are you at a hotel right now?”

”Get lost!” Zhang Fan rolled his eyes and said coolly, ”She was sitting in some guy’s car, a luxury ride— probably worth over two million...”

Upon hearing this, Li Yishan fell silent.

”It’s fine... a real man needn’t fear finding a wife, three-legged frogs are rare, but two-legged...”

”I’m fine,” Zhang Fan said calmly.

”It’s all in the past. I’m doing just fine now.”

Zhang Fan was speaking the truth; before Zhenwu Mountain, if he’d faced this situation, maybe he really wouldn’t have handled it. But now...

After chatting idly with Li Yishan for a bit, Zhang Fan hung up.

Whew...

It was late. A cool breeze swept through, stirring up dust on the street.

Zhang Fan stood at the entrance of Hongfu Garden, feeling a bit dazed.

Not sure why, but although it was late, he just didn’t want to go home. After all, even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

”Guess I’ll grab some late-night food.”

Zhang Fan took out his phone, thought about calling Li Yishan out as well, but after checking the time, decided against it.

He turned the corner and wandered nearby, casually searching for food.

Old Nine Barbecue House was always a good choice, but going to eat barbecue alone in the middle of the night just felt a bit too lonely.

”Tofu pudding... tofu pudding... fresh, tender tofu pudding...”

Just then, a clear, crisp vendor’s shout rang from afar. Next to the cold street, a little stall was set up, a big pot brimming with gleaming white tofu.

”When I was a kid...”

Zhang Fan’s eyes grew distant; he vaguely remembered back in the days living at the old house, his mom would often take him out for tofu pudding. Bright white tofu, doused in sesame oil and soy sauce, topped with chopped pickles and dried shrimp, sprinkled with some green onion...

A bowl of tofu pudding was only one yuan, soft and savory.

”Mom, I don’t want tofu pudding, I want a big pork bun.”

”You look just like a big pork bun!”

This was one of Zhang Fan’s few memories of his mom.

At dusk, roadside stall, his young mother radiant and lovely, her hair tied back as she savored her favorite tofu pudding, totally unconcerned about little Zhang Fan’s displeasure.

”How come they get to eat pork buns while I only get tofu pudding?” Little Zhang Fan pouted, pointing at the curb just ahead.

There sat three kids his age, each clutching a stuffed bun, devouring it with relish.

”Fanfan, be good. If you want a pork bun, you can trade your tofu pudding with them.”

In his memory, his mom would pinch his little face fiercely, offering advice with a gentle warmth.

Little Zhang Fan, chubby hands clutching untouched tofu pudding, walked up to the three kids and offered a trade.

”Eating tofu helps your body—it’s good for your bones! Pork buns are greasy and heavy; eat too many, your tummy’ll hurt.”

Little Zhang Fan asserted with effort that the trade would be a win-win for the other side.

But the three kids didn’t seem interested at all, just kept their heads down, chewing on their buns.

”Kid, who you mumbling to—thin air?”

Just then, the tofu stall owner approached, looking at little Zhang Fan with a puzzled face, then at the empty curb in front of him.

At that moment, little Zhang Fan’s hands trembled slightly as he clutched his bowl; tears were already shimmering in his eyes. Turning back, he saw his mom laughing so hard she was shaking.

”Mom...”

Zhang Fan’s memories may have blurred, but every fragment he could recall carried a particular warmth and preciousness.

”Boss, I’ll take a bowl of tofu pudding.”

Zhang Fan walked over; the stall had only one seat, most people ordered takeaway.

”Sweet or savory?” the boss asked, not even looking up.

Clearly, this tofu pudding catered to every taste.

”Savory.”

Zhang Fan curled his lip—he only ever had it savory.

After ordering, he pulled out his phone and started scrolling absentmindedly.

”Hm!?”

Just then, Zhang Fan’s eyes lit up. He saw the boss had posted on his Moments—a photo under sultry lighting, two crystal wine glasses clinking, captioned: ”A wise man doesn’t get caught up in romance—unless he meets a rich lady.”

”Didn’t expect the boss to be this kind of guy...” Zhang Fan’s snoopy heart flared to life; he was about to comment, but noticed the post had already been swiftly deleted.

Next moment, the boss posted a new Moment—just a simple line.

”Old friends reunited, a small joke, not about me.”

Zhang Fan couldn’t help but smile, typing in the comments: Screenshot saved!!!

Whoosh....

The moment he commented, the boss sent him a message.

”Where are you?”

”Having tofu pudding,” Zhang Fan replied.

”Wanna go to Shangjing White Crane Temple and see the sights?”

Right then, the boss messaged him again.

”Hm!?”

Zhang Fan raised his brows, eyes sharpening to a line—he wondered why Bai Buran had suddenly brought this up.

”Excuse me... is anyone sitting here?”

Just then, a lazy voice sounded, yanking Zhang Fan’s thoughts back.

Zhang Fan looked up and saw a man standing before him, early thirties, pale skin, slicked-back hair, striking features. On his right wrist dangled a golden bell, which rang lightly and melodically, echoing in the chill street.

”Nobody.” Zhang Fan shook his head.

It was just a roadside stall—sharing tables with a stranger was normal. Besides, there was only one table to begin with.

”Boss, one sweet tofu pudding.” The man waved, making the bell jangle again.

Just then, the boss came over with Zhang Fan’s bowl of tofu pudding.

”You like your tofu pudding savory?” The man glanced at Zhang Fan’s bowl, chatting with natural ease.

”Mm.” Zhang Fan grunted noncommittally, just making small talk.

”Flavor dust taints the root of the tongue—meditation becomes a prison.” The man murmured solemnly.

”Hm!?”

Hearing this, Zhang Fan set down his spoon. There was some wisdom there: people’s taste buds are clouded by flavor dust, making change impossible—confining themselves, unable to break free.

This is taboo in cultivation.

”Do we know each other?” Zhang Fan asked.

”Chance meeting is fate. We didn’t know each other before, but now we do.” The man’s lips curled in a gentle smile, golden bell ringing again.

”My surname’s Han. Han Diyan!”

As he spoke, the man extended his right hand—bell and all—for a handshake, adding politely,

”Xu Dog, Han Diyan!”