Chapter 77: 76. Sending charcoal in the snow

Wen Zhihao leaned back against the window, his eyes growing heavy with the warmth of the sunlight on his back.

Senior Cultivator Lin Yijun’s head was bowed as he petted the dog. With his focus in the present, his qi aura was gentling out, which in turn made Wen Zhihao even more sleepy now that he wasn’t being prickled by prickly qi.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that Lin Yijun was one of those cultivators who kept a youthful appearance, or perhaps it was due to Wen Zhihao’s nature, but he didn’t hate Lin Yijun. Lin Yijun was just like Zhang Wu and Wang Li Wei—poor kids who had been raised poorly. Not to mention that Lin Yijun was allergic to cats. Truly sad.

Upon noticing that Lin Yijun was starting to ‘exit’ from the animal-therapy-relaxation-state, Wen Zhihao took out the food box and opened the lid. The food had been perfectly preserved inside his spatial ring. Now, faint steam rose from them, accompanied with rich and fragrant scents.

The wolf raised her head, tongue lolling out. Lin Yijun’s hands also stilled as he inhaled.

Wen Zhihao placed the food box on the dog’s back. “Lin-shixiong, have a taste now. Zhou Sheng tried these dumplings first, he liked them. You can also feed some of that meat to her,” Wen Zhihao added, briefly scratching the dog under her chin.

“Arff!” The wolf squirmed on Lin Yijun’s lap.

Lin Yijun fed the fidgety beast first. She calmed down after having some meat. Then, Lin Yijun picked up the accompanying pair of chopsticks and picked up a dumpling.

It was an unfamiliar food to Lin Yijun. He had long since achieved inedia and only consumed delicate spiritual teas for the last decade. Before that, he had eaten plain and simple foods. Nothing like the intricately rippled surface of the dumpling.

The surface of the dumpling itself was smooth and glossy with steam. Slightly translucent, there was a hint of the filling inside. Lin Yijun dipped the corner into the dipping sauce before placing the piece of mortal food into this mouth.

Flavours burst across Lin Yijun’s tongue. Salty, umami, sweetness, spice, and a touch of sourness from the dipping sauce. The dumpling skin was a little chewy and the inner filling was soft and flavourful.

Wen Zhihao took out another food box himself—it was too painful to watch someone else eat something so delicious.

“It tastes good, doesn’t it?” he said as he plopped a dumpling into his own mouth. His dumplings were a lot spicier, but he knew that all of Aunty Liu Jing’s dumplings were fantastic.

Lin Yijun swallowed. The morsel slid down his throat and warmed his stomach. One side of him told him: That was mortal food. Why did you eat some lowly mortal food? You have injured your cultivation, for what? That voice sounded like his parents.

Lin Yijun unconsciously reached out for a second dumpling, this time covering it with more of that dipping sauce. The flavour of the dumpling was even more enhanced.

Was this how Zhou Sheng felt when eating this? With a soft animal on his lap and that...calming qi from Wen Zhihao?

Of course, this is playing around, so it naturally feels better than hard work, Lin Yijun thought. I tell Zhou Sheng to cultivate harder, while Wen Zhihao tells Zhou Sheng to consume mortal food and relax. It is superficially easier to prefer Wen Zhihao’s company.

Wen Zhihao sipped some cool and refreshing watermelon juice. “Lin-shixiong, I had the impression that you and Zhou Sheng used to be friends when he was still in this sect.”

Lin Yijun bristled. “That is not your business.”

Wen Zhihao’s calmness didn’t waver. “I was curious why you didn’t help out with Zhou Sheng’s project. Some cultivators who did not know Zhou Sheng helped. Yet you, who was his friend, didn’t…”

Lin Yijun felt that like a stab in his heart. The revelation that followed came like a crushing blow to his chest. Zhou Sheng had been his friend and had been his only friend. Didn’t he know better how Zhou Sheng had been a victim of other slave traders?

And yet, Lin Yijun hadn’t helped him. Why had he let his pride get in the way of helping his only friend? Wen Zhihao helped Zhou Sheng. And yet, Lin Yijun, who had known Zhou Sheng for years, had not.

Heavy guilt grew from the stab in his heart, followed by aching loneliness. Lin Yijun moved the food box to the ground and buried his face in the wolf’s fur.

Sending charcoal in the snow is better than adding flowers to a brocade.1Helping someone in their time of need versus flattering someone when they're doing well.

Lin Yijun had only approved of Zhou Sheng when he had been doing well. But in Zhou Sheng’s time of need, Lin Yijun did not give him assistance.

Lin Yijun’s eyes grew sour. Who did he have? Grudging respect from his peers, duty from his elders, and “friends” who only made nice to him because they wanted some kind benefit. Zhou Sheng had been his only true friend, and Lin Yijun had lost him.

“Arooo?” the wolf whined softly. She tilted her head and wrapped her tail around Lin Yijun.

A lump grew in Lin Yijun’s throat.

“Lin-shixiong, tell me what the problem is,” Wen Zhihao said softly.

You are reading story Dao Of The Salted Fish (Salted Fish Cultivator) at novel35.com

“I...I didn’t trust him,” Lin Yijun choked out. He made a big mistake. He made it multiple times. He didn’t believe Zhou Sheng all those times he tried to talk to him. If Zhou Sheng had talked about his worries to Wen Zhihao, Wen Zhihao would have listened.

It was….no wonder Zhou Sheng preferred Wen Zhihao.

Wen Zhihao extended his qi aura over Lin Yijun, soothing the edges that were starting to poke out again.

“En, then you can apologise,” Wen Zhihao advised. “Everyone makes mistakes and everyone has the capacity to learn.”

Lin Yijun didn’t look up from the dark fur of the demonic wolf stretched over his lap.

Wen Zhihao almost thought that Lin Yijun had fallen asleep, when Lin Yijun spoke up in a tiny voice, “Is apologising enough?”

“It depends on the person. Perhaps try talking to Zhou Sheng. Speak truthfully to him, and listen carefully to him. Don’t let things fester and become a heart demon.”

Lin Yijun didn’t reply beyond the slightest nod, but Wen Zhihao didn’t mind. He could already enjoy the more peaceful and stable atmosphere now that Lin Yijun had calmed down.

Taking out some bedding, Wen Zhihao stretched out to sleep.

Lin Yijun faintly stroked the wolf’s fur.

It was quiet in the room, but for the sounds of breathing and the wolf’s occasional quiet aroo-like noise. It was peaceful like his courtyard, but it wasn’t lonely.

Meanwhile, elsewhere on the continent:

Li Fanghua made a face when her alarm system alerted her that someone was outside her workshop and that it wasn’t her cute and sword-happy girlfriend. She grudgingly activated her time-stop talisman on her experiment and took off her apron and went to see the visitor.

“Oh, Zhou Sheng,” she greeted. “Back so soon?”

Zhou Sheng was no-nonsense, handing over a piece of paper. “The other cultivator liked your craft, but had this in mind to enhance it.”

Li Fanghua took the piece of paper. Immediately, she knew what it was, without Zhou Sheng’s explanation.

It was a printer. A modern-Earth-day style printer adapted for this xianxia world.

A printer!

Li Fanghua felt a headache. That meant the other person was a transmigrator. Was he also a protagonist?

“Don’t tell me he’s embroiled in a dog-blood romance too,” Li Fanghua muttered.

She had already helped a handful of dog blood BL couples and averted the tragic accidental deaths of multiple sisters/mothers/daughters.

Lucky for Li Fanghua's mindset, she didn’t see the brief heavy look in Zhou Sheng’s eyes.

“No, he and his Dao Companion are very loving. They have already started to raise some children who do not have suitable parents.”

Li Fanghua gave a sigh of relief. She raised the paper in her hand. “I know what this cultivator wants. I’ll notify you when I’m done.”

“Thank you. He also wanted to give you these as payment…”

And so a confused Li Fanghua came into possession of some rocks and paper with messy scribbles on them. After Zhou Sheng left, Li Fanghua immediately put the items into her isolation box. Whatever these things were, she didn’t need their interference in her work, thanks!

Wen Zhihao: *achoo*

Sun Fuyu: !!! Someone is thinking something bad about Wen-ge???? *puts a hand on his sword*

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