!
As soon as the wooden sword dropped into the pot, nothing happened. Bai Xiaochun let out a confused "huh?" and leaned in closer, unwilling to give up. He stared at the sword intently.
He waited quite a while, but there was no sign of anything unusual. Frowning in thought, he glanced at the glowing lines on the turtle pot, then at the ash in the stove. A thought occurred to him, and he rushed out of the room. Moments later, he returned with several pieces of the same firewood used in the stove earlier.
This wood wasn't exactly common—it took a bit of effort and help from Zhang Dapang to get his hands on it.
After lighting the fire, the first rune on the turtle pot began to glow again. The special firewood burned hot and fast, and just as it started to die down, a sudden silver light burst out from inside the pot.
Startled, Bai Xiaochun stepped back quickly.
When the light finally faded, he felt a sharp, almost lethal aura emanate from within the pot. He took a deep breath and cautiously leaned closer.
Inside, the wooden sword had developed a silver rune, just like the one that appeared on the spirit rice. It slowly dimmed to a dull silver.
Though still wooden, the sword now gave off a metallic sharpness. Bai Xiaochun's eyes lit up. He carefully picked up the sword—it was heavier than before—and just holding it made him feel a chill.
"It worked! The sword has been refined!"
Overjoyed, Bai Xiaochun held the sword lovingly. After some thought, he decided to keep the pot where it was, figuring that leaving it out in the open would actually keep it safer. After all, who'd expect a treasure to be sitting right there?
As for the rice, he could just eat it. But the sword—no way could anyone see it. He began pondering how to hide the silver rune. Perhaps using colored liquids to dull its glow?
Over the next few nights, Bai Xiaochun secretly gathered various juices and pastes from the Fire Kitchen. Eventually, he smeared them all over the sword until it looked ugly and patchy, completely concealing the silver pattern.
He tested it again and was pleased to find the glow was greatly reduced. Nodding in satisfaction, he felt safe.
Days passed. Bai Xiaochun was now completely at ease in the Fire Kitchen, having bonded with the other senior disciples. He even learned that different spirit foods required different flames—some needed single-color flames, others dual-color. He finally understood the firewood under the turtle pot produced a single-color spirit fire.
Zhang Dapang took a real liking to Bai Xiaochun and looked after him a lot. Months passed, and just as Zhang had predicted—Bai Xiaochun grew noticeably fatter.
He was no longer the scrawny boy who first joined the sect. He had puffed up quite a bit, with fairer skin and a more harmless appearance. He was truly becoming worthy of the nickname "Bai Jiupang" (Fatty Bai #9).
Of course, extra meals still came up now and then. But what troubled Bai Xiaochun was that while his weight increased, his cultivation stagnated. Eventually, he just stopped worrying and focused on enjoying life: eating, drinking, and gossiping with the others.
In the meantime, he learned a lot about the Lingxi Sect. There were inner and outer disciples. If a servant could cultivate to Qi Condensation Level 3, they were allowed to challenge a peak trial. Succeeding in that trial meant they could join the outer sect—and only then would they be considered true members of Lingxi Sect.
But that trial was no joke. Only the top three were accepted each month—like fish leaping through the dragon gate—so the number of new outer disciples was always limited.
One day, it was Seventh Fatty's turn to go down the mountain and shop for supplies, but something came up. Zhang Dapang waved his hand and sent Bai Xiaochun instead.
Bai Xiaochun hesitated—he hadn't seen Xu Baocai in months, but he was still cautious. Back in his room, he strapped on seven or eight kitchen knives, then layered himself in five or six thick coats. He looked like a walking meatball.
Still uneasy, he even slung a heavy iron pot onto his back. Only then did he feel secure enough to head out.
Walking down the sect's stone roads, Bai Xiaochun admired the stunning buildings and gardens around him, and a deep sense of superiority arose.
"Time flies like a white horse through a crack. Life is but a dream. I, Bai Xiaochun, have already been cultivating for months. Looking back at the mortal world… the village… so many emotions…"
He sighed with his hands behind his back—kitchen knives clanking at his sides, a huge pot on his back, and dressed like a patched-up snowman. Other servants glanced sideways at him, many doing double-takes.
Even some female disciples saw him and giggled behind their hands, their laughter like the sound of bells.
Bai Xiaochun blushed. But rather than feel embarrassed, he believed he looked majestic. He coughed lightly and straightened his back.
Just as he was about to leave the servant area of the third peak, he noticed a crowd rushing excitedly toward the mountain path—the place outer disciples usually trained.
Curious, he stopped a thin, weak-looking youth and grabbed his arm.
"Hey, Junior Brother, what's going on? Why is everyone running that way?"
The youth looked annoyed but changed his attitude as soon as he noticed Bai Xiaochun's Fire Kitchen gear—especially the pot. His eyes gleamed with admiration.
"Ah, a senior from the Fire Kitchen! You should come too! Two outer disciples, Zhou Hong and Zhang Yide, are dueling in the trial arena. They've got a grudge, and both are already at Qi Condensation Level 6! This is a rare chance to watch and maybe learn something!"
After explaining, he dashed off, afraid of missing a good spot.
Intrigued, Bai Xiaochun joined the crowd and soon arrived at a huge arena at the foot of the mountain. It was over a thousand feet wide, and completely surrounded by servants and disciples. Even the mountain above had spectators—well-dressed outer disciples.
On the stage, two young men in elegant robes were fighting fiercely—one had a scar on his face, and the other had fair skin like jade. Their attacks boomed with power.
Each had treasure-like magical items. The scar-faced youth waved a flag, summoning a roaring mist tiger. The fair-skinned one danced around it, wielding a blue sword that sliced through the air like lightning.
Bai Xiaochun watched, stunned.
He could move a wooden sword—but compared to this, he felt like a baby playing with toys.
What shocked him more was that the two fighters were completely serious, holding nothing back. Their killing intent was terrifying, and both were bloodied—though not fatally wounded, the sight alone was chilling.
This was Bai Xiaochun's first real look at a cultivator duel. It was nothing like the serene, floating immortals he had imagined. It was brutal and violent.
"Isn't cultivation supposed to be about immortality? Why all the fighting and killing? What if I die?!"
He wiped the sweat off his brow. When the mist tiger lunged at the fair-skinned youth with bared fangs, Bai Xiaochun took a step back.
"This is too dangerous. Better go back to the Fire Kitchen—it's safer there."
Just as he was retreating, a shout echoed behind him.
"Bai Xiaochun!!"
He turned and saw Xu Baocai, the very guy who had written a bloody letter vowing revenge, rushing toward him with a wild grin. A glowing wooden sword flew ahead of him, emanating strong spiritual pressure—far beyond Qi Condensation Level 1.
Bai Xiaochun's pupils shrank. A life-or-death instinct kicked in.
"He's trying to kill me!!"
He let out a blood-curdling scream and ran like mad.
"Murder! Someone's trying to kill me!!"
His voice was so loud it shocked everyone around him. Even the duel on the platform paused. That's how loud he was.
Even Xu Baocai was startled. He'd just called Bai Xiaochun's name and sent out his sword—he hadn't even touched him yet. But Bai Xiaochun screamed like he'd been stabbed ten times.
"Bai Xiaochun, if you've got guts, stop running!" Xu Baocai shouted, furious.
"If I had guts, I'd have killed you already! Why would I stay?! Murder! Murder!" Bai Xiaochun wailed. He ran fast, like a chubby rabbit, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
At the peak of the mountain, inside a hanging pavilion, two figures sat facing each other over a chessboard. One was Elder Li Qinghou, and the other was an elderly man with white hair and a rosy face, his eyes glimmering with wisdom.
The elder glanced down the mountain and chuckled.
"Qinghou, that little rascal you brought back is quite amusing."
"Apologies, Sect Master," Li Qinghou said with a sigh as he placed a piece on the board. "His personality still needs some polishing…"
"Those Fire Kitchen boys are all proud and arrogant. For this one to bond with them? Not simple at all." The Sect Master stroked his beard with a smile, eyes full of amusement.