Chapter 1407: Spirit Rice and Cold Mountain Snow

When early winter arrived, He Qing visited the wine tavern to fetch wine, just as she always did.

Chen Changsheng had disappeared again, off to who knew where.

Going by his own words, it would be another three years before he returned.

He Qing assumed everything would proceed as usual.

But when she went to fetch wine this time, someone came to the door.

He Qing paused and looked back. Zhao Yuqing stood in the doorway, looking somewhat surprised that the tavern was open.

"You..."

Zhao Yuqing glanced at her. "I was wondering why the door was open."

"What, are you running the place for that guy surnamed Chen while he's gone?"

"No, I just came for some wine."

"I see."

Ever since hearing the stories about Zhao Yuqing, He Qing had been wary of him.

"What are you..."

Zhao Yuqing hefted a sack. "Delivering something."

He Qing stared in surprise. "You're really farming?"

"Yeah."

He stepped inside and dropped the sack of Spirit Rice onto a table.

"When he gets back, tell him—actually, never mind. He'll probably know I brought it."

"Are you and Senior Chen close?" He Qing asked.

"Drinking buddies."

"Huh?"

Zhao Yuqing chuckled. "Stop guessing. I've dropped off the goods, so I won't stay."

He Qing looked at him and gave a small nod, choosing not to pry.

He shot her a glance. "You seem a little afraid of me."

"Not at all, haha..."

Zhao Yuqing waved a hand and left without looking back.

He Qing let out a breath. She had been terrified that one wrong word would get her cut down.

She hurriedly finished fetching her wine and went back.

In the blink of an eye, another year passed.

When winter arrived the following year, He Qing saw Zhao Yuqing again.

This time, he came directly to Qingyu Mountain to find her.

He carried another sack of Spirit Rice, asking her to pass it on to Chen Changsheng.

"Can't you give it to him yourself?" she asked.

Zhao Yuqing shook his head. "He's too far away. It's inconvenient, and he'll be back eventually anyway."

Trembling slightly, He Qing accepted the sack.

"Have him taste it and tell me how it is. I want to hear his verdict."

"Yes, alright..."

Zhao Yuqing didn't linger and quickly departed.

Relieved, He Qing hurried down the mountain with the Spirit Rice and placed it safely inside the wine tavern, terrified it might get lost or ruined.

Zhao Yuqing came almost every winter.

He would leave a sack of Spirit Rice and depart.

At first, He Qing was frightened by the routine, but she eventually grew used to it. In truth, Zhao Yuqing wasn't nearly as terrifying as her mother made him out to be.

...

When Chen Changsheng returned, he pushed open the tavern doors.

As soon as he stepped inside, he noticed something was different.

In previous years, there had only been the wine money He Qing left on the table. Now, there were three sacks of Spirit Rice.

'Did Zhao Yuqing bring these?'

Thinking this, Chen Changsheng couldn't help but wonder if the Spirit Rice actually tasted good.

He decided to just boil a bowl of porridge.

A rich fragrance wafted up. After scooping out a bowl and taking a taste, he couldn't help but praise, "He actually has some skill..."

The taste was excellent. It certainly didn't look like protection money he had extorted.

That took care of his breakfasts for the next few days.

Up on the mountain, He Qing heard from her returning fellow disciples that the tavern at the foot of the mountain had opened its doors again.

Thinking of this, she headed down the mountain early the next morning to fetch wine.

There was hardly anyone around at this hour.

She caught the mouthwatering aroma of rice.

Beside the wine tavern, Chen Changsheng was tending a fire, boiling something in a pot.

"What are you cooking? It's so fragrant."

Chen Changsheng glanced back in mild surprise. Seeing it was He Qing, he asked, "Porridge. Want some?"

He Qing blinked. "Those three sacks of Spirit Rice?"

"That's right," he said, nodding.

Stepping closer, she said, "Zhao Yuqing brought those for you. He also told me to ask how the Spirit Rice is, since he'll be asking me about it later."

Chen Changsheng paused, then said, "Just tell him it's average."

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

He Qing blinked. "Maybe you should tell him yourself. From the way he looks, I'm afraid he'd hack me to death."

Chen Changsheng laughed aloud. "He won't. He wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't dare? Why wouldn't he?"

He Qing sighed helplessly. "I'm just a little cultivator. How could I afford to offend him?"

"Alright, This Chen will tell him personally."

"Speaking of which, when did you get back?"

"Just a few days ago."

Chen Changsheng asked, "I remember the Xuanmen Grand Tournament is next year. You're still going, right?"

"I am."

He Qing sighed. "I suffered a loss last time and missed out on a good ranking. I absolutely can't fail again this time."

"You shouldn't," Chen Changsheng said. "With your Dao Cultivation, you're on the verge of stepping into the Dongxu Realm. Few among the younger generation can compare to you."

"Realm doesn't matter at all," He Qing grumbled, smacking her lips. "The key lies in Divine Abilities, skills, and sword techniques."

"You lack confidence?"

"If I had confidence, I wouldn't be sighing."

Chen Changsheng said, "The porridge is ready. Let's eat first."

He Qing was already tempted, so she didn't stand on ceremony.

The Spirit Rice was incredibly flavorful. He Qing's eyes lit up. "How is this average? It's too delicious!"

Chen Changsheng said, "There's more. Enough for you."

"There's some for me?"

"This Chen can't finish it all alone anyway."

"Thanks."

He Qing drank three bowls of porridge by herself. For her, such fine Spirit Rice was rare. It was her first time having it, and it tasted far better than any rich feast.

Chen Changsheng asked, "Since the grand tournament is coming up, how about This Chen teaches you a few Divine Abilities or sword techniques?"

He Qing repeatedly shook her head. "No, no, you've already been good enough to me. Skip the Divine Abilities and sword techniques. Such arts aren't passed down lightly, and I have no way to help you in return."

"You've helped me a lot in the past."

"In my past life again?"

"Yes."

He Qing shook her head. "The two have nothing to do with each other. It's fine, I can handle the tournament on my own."

Chen Changsheng said, "I'll teach you some. You don't have to use them, but they can save your life at a critical moment. Consider them a trump card."

He Qing was about to refuse.

But Chen Changsheng interrupted her. "Watch."

He Qing paused, only to see Chen Changsheng raise two fingers. His fingers swept gracefully like an Immortal Sword, tracing the arc of a sword flourish. With a flash of sword light, the surrounding trees all collapsed. Wherever the sword passed, a deep trench was gouged into the earth.

The tree struck directly by the strike abruptly shed its leaves, withered, and shriveled into a dry husk before crashing down as dead wood.

"This sword strike is called Cold Mountain Snow," he said. "This Chen comprehended it while watching the snow in his early years."

He Qing opened her mouth, but she felt a bit of a headache.

She said, "I... I can't understand it..."

"Watch it a few more times and you'll learn it," Chen Changsheng said. "It isn't difficult."