When the morning mist had yet to disperse,
Chen Ye scooped a ladle of cold water from the tank and washed his face.
The winter’s chill pierced through him, making his whole body shiver.
He exhaled a long breath, feeling invigorated.
In the reflection on the water’s surface, his withered face remarkably showed a hint of long-lost vitality.
"With a bit of grooming, I can still have so of the charm of my past life."
Chen Ye gazed into the water, stroking his chin, rather satisfied.
He picked up the Jade Saber and shaved his beard, the stubble falling into the muddy ground, leaving his scruffy old face sowhat refreshed.
When the last tuft of ssy hair was tied up with grass rope, the man in the water spread his eyebrows, with mature and well-defined features that also carried a sharp aura.
Chen Ye was slightly taken aback, feeling like he’d almost transford into another person.
Before grooming, he looked like an old beggar fleeing from famine, making people want to avoid him.
After grooming, he resembled a wandering traveler with a few shades of mature and ti-worn qualities.
After all, the previous self was only forty, the pri of a man’s life, so his looks couldn’t be too bad.
Chen Ye patted his cheeks, drew a clean robe from under the table, and with light steps, left the storeroom he had been in for six days.
The kitchen was filled with the fragrance of rice, as Zhiwei stood on tiptoe, frying the leftovers, while Qing Jun was behind the stove, feeding wood into the fire. Her little face was sweaty.
Suddenly hearing the light creak of the door behind, the older girl turned abruptly with the spatula in hand.
"M-Master?"
The black-haired girl’s eyes widened beneath her bangs.
In the morning light, the man stood with a turquoise robe, his chin showing stubble, and though deep-set, his eyes no longer resembled those of a fiend.
The most astonishing were those eyes, which previously were clouded with murky yellow mist, but now were clear like obsidian soaked in a stream.
She bit her lower lip, pressing her nails into her palms.
This must be an illusion spell!
Qing Jun lifted her head at the sound, the firewood in her hands dropping with a clatter, her mouth slightly agape.
"The rice is about to burn. Hmm? Have we finished all the food we bought a few days ago?"
Seeing the shocked looks of his disciples, Chen Ye felt quite pleased but did not show a trace on his face.
He reached out and took the spatula, replacing his apprentice to fry the leftovers.
The little girl, as if guided by magic, lifted her little face and coyly asked, "Did Master eat the legendary Youthful Appearance Pill?"
"My cultivation technique has made so progress, and I tidied up a bit," Chen Ye smiled.
The little girl quickly lowered her head, sowhat at a loss while feeding the fire.
These days, Master smiles more than he ever has before!
Moreover, Qing Jun noticed that when Master smiled, he had a very faint dimple on his left cheek.
"Why are you standing there? Finish your breakfast, and Master will take you to the market afterward."
Chen Ye deliberately put on a stern face, suppressing his laughter.
Qing Jun jumped up with a startled "ah," hurriedly fetching porcelain bowls and standing in line with her senior sister in front of Chen Ye.
The two girls moved in sync, holding porcelain bowls, gazing up at Chen Ye, waiting for him to serve them rice.
These two little ones, skinny and small, with long hair reaching their legs, touched his heart.
"Here, one scoop for each."
Chen Ye served rice to the two apprentices, suddenly raising his eyebrows,
"Didn’t Master buy you new clothes? Why haven’t you put them on yet?"
The older girl said softly, "Without Master’s permission, the disciple didn’t dare act on her own."
That’s reasonable too.
Though it was clear the clothes were bought for them, since he hadn’t specifically stated it, they dared not wear them.
Chen Ye slapped his forehead and made a decision: "Then you should change into them later, and after you’re dressed, we’ll go to the market together!"
...
Taoist Zhang was curled up against the wall, enjoying a smoke quite leisurely.
After Chen Ye left,
Taoist Zhang flicked his pipe, his cloudy triangular eyes raking over Chen Ye.
The man was dressed cleanly and sharply, nothing like his hunched appearance of the past.
Just days ago, this guy was like him, wrapped in a perpetual layer of musty odor.
Why the drastic change today?
Taoist Zhang’s Adam’s apple rolled twice heavily, not even noticing the embers on his pipe burning his hand until the pain set in, prompting him to shake it off with a hiss.
"Oh, is Old Chen trying to flaunt like a parading peacock and find a woman?"
He smirked with a mouthful of yellowed teeth, tapping his pipe against the wall bricks at random intervals,
"Don’t bla your Brother Zhang for being blunt, but here in this district, no amount of preening will get you a girl from the Cloud Clothing Pavilion."
Chen Ye saw this, understanding in his heart, and smiled gently:
"Old Man Zhang, you live in isolation in the slums at your age, that’s truly beyond you! You’re old and lack talent; who would fancy you?"
"But I’m in my pri at forty, with two clever apprentices bringing joy, so of course, I should live a brighter life."
The words hit Taoist Zhang where it hurt.
The old man coughed repeatedly in anger, pointing at Chen Ye, unable to speak.
At this mont, the two girls followed Chen Ye out the door.
Qing Jun timidly hid behind Chen Ye, Zhiwei a step behind, yet shielding her sister tightly.
They no longer looked like the dirty little figures from before.
The three, at first glance, seed like a happy family.
Chen Ye, greeting the morning light, was in high spirits: "Co on, today Master will buy you sothing delicious!"
Taoist Zhang’s expression was as sour as if he’d swallowed a fly.
When others mistreated him, this old man could pretend as if nothing happened.
But seeing Chen Ye attempt to change his situation made him deeply uncomfortable.
...
After paying fifteen pieces of the Spiritual Sand Dust Tax, Chen Ye led his two apprentices into the market.
The morning market, with dewdrops still clinging to the cobblestones.
Yet the streets were already bustling, teeming with people.
"Now, I’ve truly offended Taoist Zhang."
Chen Ye mused, yet felt no regret.
For a person like Taoist Zhang, the more you retreat, the more he would encroach.
Still, preparations had to be made to guard against Taoist Zhang’s crooked intentions.
Chen Ye arrived at the free trade area, choosing a spot bustling with as many people as possible.
He spread a torn cloth on the ground and carefully set down the pot of flowers he was holding.
Once he removed the black cloth covering the pot, the glowing moonlight from the Silver Scale Flower imdiately attracted several gazes.
Chen Ye exhaled in relief.
According to the mories of the forr self, although the Silver Scale Flower was abundant in the Three Thousand Great Mountains and plentiful in market circulation,
this flower was still a hot-selling item in the market, being a primary ingredient in making essential pills for low-level cultivators.
Chen Ye crouched in a street corner, with a basin of Silver Scale Flowers in front of him.
His two little apprentices huddled like quails beside him, waiting for cultivators to approach.
"Sister, Master really healed the Silver Scale Flower!"
Qing Jun clutched her little hands, unable to stop gazing at the Silver Scale Flower.
As just a little girl, she was very interested in these shining flowers, often eyeing them while delivering als.
Zhiwei stared intently at the spirit plant that emitted a silver glow, her fingertips unconsciously rubbing her clothes’ hem.
The Master who drank and beat them, the dissipated and dejected Master hunched over his knife, and the Master now squatting by the bowl of Silver Scale Flowers.
At that mont, as the world around her seed serene.
Her heart delicately wiped at the fresh spots on this new reality.
But if villagers had once peered into their windows—oh, if only the mont could last forever.
However, Chen Ye began feeling uneasy.
Though so glanced at his items from ti to ti,
It suddenly dawned on him: What if they can’t afford eighteen spirit stones?
But then he quickly dismissed this thought, as eighteen spirit stones weren’t too much nor too little.
It costs eighteen or so spirit stones just to rent a stall for six months in the market!
As Chen Ye cald his nerves, an old man stroking a goatee sauntered up without him noticing.
"Young friend, did you just gather these from the Three Thousand Great Mountains?"
"""
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