Chapter 21: Fishing

"Second Uncle?" Li Hao blinked in surprise. Among the household hierarchy, Li Fu’s generation was counted from Li Hao’s father’s line—so the only ones entitled to be called "uncle" were from the first generation of the Li family.

"Oh." The old man barely registered Li Fu’s respectful bow, merely grunting in reply before his gaze drifted past him, landing on Li Hao in his fine silk robes, the Dragon Blood Jade Pendant slung at his waist, and the Body Refining Secret Manual clutched in his hand.

"I heard the Li family produced a Warrior’s Wasteland Constitution. Is this child the one?" the old man asked casually.

Li Fu remained utterly respectful, bowing deeply. "Yes, Second Uncle. It is Hao'er. He is Xing Wuhou’s son—born with blocked meridians, unable to cultivate martial arts."

"Oh ho..." The old man chuckled lightly. "So this is the stubborn fellow’s child, huh? Tsk tsk... This little one’s planning on body cultivation, is he? That’s a rough path, that."

"Though it’s a hard road," Li Fu said, still bowing, "if we want Hao'er to have any future, there’s no other choice."

"Cheh." The old man sneered. "What kind of future can body cultivation bring? Even if he reaches the heights of history’s greatest cultivators, what then? In the midst of a thousand soldiers, he’d just be a slightly bigger pebble."

Li Fu grimaced. He knew the man wasn’t wrong—only nodded in silence.

"But as a Li family descendant," he said softly, "dying on the battlefield would still be an honor."

The old man’s smile vanished instantly. His expression darkened, and he let out a cold, sharp snort.

"What nonsense is that? Are our Li sons meant to die on the battlefield? Honor? You’ve all gone mad!"

"Surviving the battlefield—that’s real strength!"

"U-uh..." Li Fu was stunned, speechless. He’d heard tales of this Second Uncle’s eccentric nature, of how he’d done things no one else would dare in his youth. Now he saw it firsthand—this man was unlike any other.

"Is this the will of the Heavenly Pole, or is it your own?"

The old man’s voice carried a sharp edge.

"It was... the Lord’s and our own decision," Li Fu stammered.

"Hmph. That Heavenly Pole boy’s getting weaker by the day," the old man scoffed. "Forcing a child to do something? What’s the point? If he’s truly strong, let him break through the Three Immortalities and step into the Four Foundations Realm on his own. Then he’d be able to defy fate!"

"Then why not just push yourself, huh? Why not try a little harder? If you’re too weak to do it yourself, then admit it—you’re just useless."

"...Uh..." Li Fu was speechless. He couldn’t even respond.

The Four Foundations Realm? Easy to say, but how many had actually reached it? Even Emperor Yu himself—only a handful could claim such a title.

Beside him, Li Hao bit back a laugh. This old man’s actually kind of adorable.

He’d expected a stern elder, like Li Fu—someone who’d preach endlessly about perseverance, hardship, and the rewards of effort. Instead, this man was spouting nonsense that made no sense at all.

"Are we so poor in the Divine General’s Residence that we can’t afford to raise one child in comfort?" the old man snapped, seeing Li Fu’s silence. "We’ve bled and died. Some of our children have fallen in battle. Can’t we let one small heir enjoy the life we’ve won for him?"

Li Fu trembled, nodding meekly, too frightened to speak.

The old man shot him a sideways glance, then sighed. He knew this kind of man—wooden, rigid, shaped by centuries of tradition. But then his eyes flicked to the boy beside him, catching the faint, mischievous twitch of a smile.

"Little rascal," he said, narrowing his eyes. "I said your father was useless—and you’re laughing?"

"Old man," Li Hao grinned, "I actually agree with you."

"Hao'er!" Li Fu gasped, horrified. "Don’t speak like that to elders! How dare you!"

The old man didn’t rage. Instead, he froze—then blinked.

"You called me... what?"

"Old man," Li Hao said, still smiling. "Can’t call you ‘young man,’ can I?"

The old man’s face twitched. "No one taught you how to address elders?"

"You called me ‘little rascal.’ I call you ‘old man.’ That’s fair, isn’t it? Surely someone taught you how to treat children properly?"

Li Fu broke out in a cold sweat. He clamped his hand over Li Hao’s mouth, turning to the old man. "Second Uncle, please don’t take offense. Hao'er was born when Lord Xing and Lady went to the Yanbei Battlefield. No one’s been around to teach him manners—he’s just... wild, that’s all..."

The old man narrowed his eyes, then let out a soft snort. "Well... he does have a point. Fair enough."

Li Fu blinked. Then exhaled in relief. "Thank you, Second Uncle, for your generous forgiveness!"

Li Hao peeled his hand away, wiping his cheek with his sleeve, then glanced at the old man’s fishing basket.

"Just one fish? That’s tiny. Who’s going to eat that?"

The old man waved a dismissive hand. "Old men fish not for food, but for pleasure. You’re too young to understand."

"Then your fishing skills are terrible," Li Hao said bluntly. "Just one fish? That’s like returning empty-handed—air force!"

The moment the word slipped out, the old man’s entire body tensed. His eyes snapped wide, and he glared at Li Hao like he’d been struck.

"You little brat—what do you know? I wasn’t even trying today! And I went to the New Lake—unfamiliar waters! Wait till tomorrow. You’ll see how many I’ll bring!"

To prove his point, he lifted the basket and thrust it toward Li Hao. "You think this is just any fish? This is a Spirit Beast! If I let it loose, it might not even be able to beat your father!"

Li Fu paled. "Second Uncle, please—this is dangerous! Keep it away from Hao'er!"

The old man scoffed. "Once it’s in my basket, it can’t escape. Not even if it wanted to."

"Spirit Beast?" Li Hao’s curiosity flared. He leaned in, studying the fish.

It was no bigger than a chopstick—gold-backed, red-bellied, and strange: its skull above the eyes bore delicate, eyelash-like scales. As Li Hao peered closer, the fish glared back, its tiny eyes radiating pure hatred and murderous intent.

Li Hao felt it clearly—this wasn’t just an animal. It was alive with spirit, and it hated him.

"Old man," Li Hao said, eyes wide, "your fishing skills are insane. You caught a Spirit Beast. Teach me how to do it!"

He’d remembered from the Character Panel’s classification: Fishing was one of the arts—alongside carving, painting, and playing the zither. He’d thought it was just about catching fish. But here, it could pull Spirit Beasts from the water?

That was almost like martial cultivation.

The old man stared at him, then his eyes lit up.

"You want to learn fishing?"

"Sure. Can I?"

"Of course you can!" The old man burst into laughter. "Finally, someone with real eyes! Not like these wooden heads. Forget that broken-body nonsense—let me teach you fishing. And tomorrow, you’ll see what I can do. Today was just a fluke—I didn’t know the New Lake. But I’ll show you!"

He kept rambling, still trying to justify himself—obviously still stung by Li Hao’s air force comment.

"...Uh..." Li Fu stood frozen, stunned. He’d just gotten Li Hao to focus on body cultivation—now he was being lured away by fishing?

"Second Uncle! Hao'er has real talent in body cultivation! In just three months, he’s already mastered a low-tier body technique! He’s a true prodigy! You can’t delay him like this!"

By the end, Li Fu was nearly shouting—ready to risk a beating if it meant saving his son’s path.

"What talent? Even if he masters it, what then? Can he stand against ten thousand Li soldiers?"

The old man wasn’t in the mood. "You want to turn this delicate little beauty into a sun-baked, blackened peasant? I don’t think so."

Not a chance I’ll become a blackened peasant, Li Hao thought silently.

The old man turned away, snatching the Dragon Spine Secret Manual from Li Hao’s hand and shoving it into Li Fu’s arms.

"Go on. Trash. This is useless. Hao'er, come. You haven’t eaten yet, have you? I’ll kill this Spirit Beast and make you a proper meal."

"Y-yes!" Li Hao beamed, delighted.

"Second Uncle! You can’t do this!" Li Fu’s cry echoed behind them, desperate and hollow.

As the old man led him away, Li Hao finally understood the man’s true nature.

The kitchen? It was on the seventh-floor terrace of the Pavilion of Listening to Rain—where the Li family’s most treasured secret manuals were stored.

And right there, beside a stack of ancient, centuries-old scrolls, a fire burned.

Through their conversation, Li Hao learned the old man’s name: Li Moxiu.

Xiū—as in rest and recuperation.

But also... unyielding, endless—not dead, not at rest.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end