After three-quarters of an hour, the young man opened his eyes again. He took off his dry clothes from the branch and put them on. He looked at a mountain in the distance that had disappeared into the clouds again, then turned around and walked downstream.
Compared to when he walked out of the lake, his footsteps were much more stable. It was as if he had learned to walk, or perhaps he had gotten used to this body.
There was fog on the bank of the stream, but fortunately, there were no rocks, so it was not difficult to walk. It did not take long for him to follow the stream out of the mountain and arrive in front of a village.
The farmer loosening the soil in the field, the old man pulling a cart of hay, the woman delivering food halfway up the mountain, and the children playing under the big tree at the entrance of the village gradually stopped what they were doing and stood in place.
The young man in white walked into the village.
The hoe in the farmer's hand fell to the ground and almost hit his own foot.
The pipe in the old man's mouth fell out, scalding the donkey pulling the cart and causing it to cry out in pain.
The woman tightly held the urn in her arms, but her mouth was even wider than the mouth of the urn.
The children suddenly scattered, shouting and running around the village. Among them, there was a little girl who actually began to wail.
The young man in white stopped, not understanding what was going on.
Dense footsteps sounded, and the people in the mountain village all gathered at the entrance of the village, their faces filled with awe and nervousness.
Under the leadership of an old man, the villagers somewhat clumsily knelt on the ground and shouted in unison, "Greetings, Lord Immortal Master."
The young man in white's expression did not change. Many years ago, when he occasionally walked in the mortal world, he encountered such a scene many times.
But he soon discovered something strange. How could these ordinary villagers recognize his true identity?
There was no answer to this question. Since he did not ask, the villagers naturally would not answer.
The villagers looked at him with great enthusiasm, but their expressions were also somewhat fearful, as if they were looking at the plaque on the county government office.
Being stared at by dozens of such gazes, the young man did not panic. After thinking for a moment, he said, "Greetings, everyone."
"Greetings, Immortal Master!"
It was still the old man who took the lead, and the villagers all responded at once.
This back and forth was like some kind of ceremony.
The villagers saluted again, and some children who did not respond in time were even spanked by their parents.
The children did not cry, but just stared at the young man's face with their eyes wide open, as if they were looking at the world's rarest candy.
It was quiet. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, making a rustling sound.
None of the villagers dared to speak. They maintained the most respectful posture and stood with a slight bow.
After some time, the white-clothed youth suddenly said, "I want to stay here for a year."
The old man was shocked and couldn't believe his ears. The villagers were also dumbfounded. What did the Immortal Master mean?
Seeing everyone's reaction, the white-clothed youth searched through his memories and recalled something. It seemed that money was a very important thing in the mortal world.
He stretched out his hand in front of the old man. There were dozens of golden leaves in his palm.
If it were any other time, the villagers would have fainted from the excitement when they saw the golden leaves. However, they only took a glance before looking at the youth in white.
In their eyes, the white-clothed youth was much better looking than these golden leaves. Moreover, how could they take these golden leaves?
"It's our fortune that Immortal Master is willing to stay."
The old man said uneasily, "It's just that the Han Village is poor, we really can't find a place for Immortal Master to cultivate in peace."
The white-clothed youth didn't know how many things the old man had thought in such a short time, and what the villagers were thinking.
Of course, he didn't care. He only knew that the other party should have agreed to his request. His gaze swept through the villagers and finally fell on a little boy.
The little boy was a little dark, very sturdy, and had an honest expression. He gave people a very simple and honest feeling.
"Where do you live?"
The white-clothed youth looked at the little boy and asked.
The little boy was stunned and didn't react until his father gave him a heavy slap on the face.
"Genwa, quickly lead the way for the Immortal Master!"
The old man shouted anxiously.
…
…
In a courtyard on the west side of the mountain village, the room was a little dark.
The little boy followed his father's warning. He respectfully bowed to the white-clothed youth and prepared to leave.
The white-clothed youth suddenly asked, "Name?"
The little boy stopped and said, "Liu Baogen."
The white-clothed youth was silent for a while and asked again, "Age?"
The boy said, "Ten years old."
"Baogen doesn't sound good."
The white-clothed youth said, "From now on, you will be called Ten years old."
The little boy touched the back of his head.
From now on, he was Liu Shisui.
…
…
After leaving the courtyard, Liu Shisui was immediately surrounded by the villagers.
The old man asked with concern, "What orders does the Immortal Master have?"
"He asked me my age … and gave me a name," Liu Shisui said in a muddle-headed manner.
The old man was slightly surprised, but the little boy's parents were overjoyed and kept rubbing their hands.
Liu Shisui didn't like the new name and said with grievance, "How can there be such a strange name?"
The father raised his hand and was about to hit him, but he suddenly remembered the Immortal Master in the house and forced himself to hold back.
The old man scolded, "The Immortal Master bestowing a name is a great blessing. Ordinary people can't even beg for it. Don't talk nonsense."
Liu Shisui suddenly remembered the last few words he said in the house and quickly said, "But he said he wasn't the Immortal Master."
The villagers didn't understand. They thought if that person wasn't the Immortal Master, who else could he be?
"I think he looks a bit like an idiot."
Liu Shisui said honestly, "He wanted me to teach him."
The old man hesitated and asked, "What … did the Immortal Master want you to teach him?"
Liu Shisui said, "Make the bed, wash the clothes, cook the meals, chop the firewood and farm. Yes, that's it. I didn't remember a word wrong."
The villagers were very surprised. They thought if he didn't even know how to do these things, could it be that the person in the house isn't the Immortal Master, but is really an idiot? "
The old man laughed and said, "In the Greater Aoyama, the Immortal Master has his own sword boys to serve him. He drinks nectar and eats immortal fruits. Why would he do these things?"
…
…
In the following days, the Immortal Master living in the Liu family became the center of attention and discussion in the small mountain village.
The villagers naturally accepted the old man's words and firmly believed in the Immortal Master's identity.
The only thing they didn't understand was why the Immortal Master didn't return to the Greater Aoyama, but stayed in this small mountain village. Why did the little fellow from the Liu family, who had accumulated eight generations of good fortune, teach him these things?
Liu Shisui, who was envied and even envied by the villagers, didn't understand why someone couldn't do such simple things.
That night, he taught the other how to make the bed because the other needed to sleep.
The next morning, he taught the other how to fold the quilt.
Then he realized that the other person had never done these things before!
When he found out that the other person didn't know how to do these things, he was really dumbfounded.
"When you pour water, don't pour out the rice!"
"Don't chop the firewood too thin, it won't be able to burn!"
"Don't want the fish scales, don't want the fish gills, and don't want the black …"
"Cut it on the left, cut it on the right. Don't cut it, and the straw rain cape will come out. Yes, yes, yes."
"That's not sweet potato, it's cold melon … Put it down quickly, mom hates that."
"Don't cut it too deep!"
…
…
In the past, Liu Shisui had read in the books that people couldn't tell the difference between five grains and four limbs. He didn't believe that there were such people in the world.
Until he met the young man in white.
But nine days later, he started to doubt his thoughts again.
Because the young man in white only used nine days to learn everything he taught.
On the first day, the young man in white learned the simplest ways to make a bed, cut firewood, and boil water.
On the second day, the young man in white learned some more complicated housework. The Liu family's courtyard was clean and bright, as if it had been reborn.
On the third day, the young man in white started to cook. After a few glances, he learned how to kill chickens, cut fish, cut onions, and peel garlic.
The fourth day, the fifth day, the sixth day …
On the ninth day, the sun rose as usual. The young man in white chopped some bamboo and made a deck chair. His craftsmanship was even better than the old bamboo craftsman's.
…
…
Now, the young man in white could pull the straw rain cucumber up to two feet long, and each piece was of the same thickness. As for the firewood, it was indescribably beautiful.
It was the same stream water, the same rice, the same potato chips, and the same stove and iron pot. But the rice cooked by the young man in white was more delicious than any rice that Liu Shisui had ever eaten.
The young man in white even rebuilt the walls of the courtyard. The eaves that had been in disrepair for a long time were neatly mended, as if they were new.
Liu Shisui found it hard to doubt the young man's identity.
Besides, who else could do such a thing?
And he didn't see the young man in white wash his clothes.
He didn't understand why the young man in white was still as white as the best rice after doing so much.
…
…
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