Fang Yang emerged from his small hut, stepping onto the long, bluestone stairs and heading forward.
At his side, the White Feathered Eagle gently flapped its wings, following close behind.
The moment he stepped onto the main street, Fang Yang sensed something was off.
Normally at this hour, the streets should be in a lull, not bustling with people.
Dawn broke, piercing through the clouds and mist to cast down a gentle ray of light.
That ray of light was then shattered by the tangled leaves of old trees, scattering unevenly across a large tent.
A banner bearing the emblem of a meat bun hung from this tent.
"Sir, the usual?" a large man in a cook's black apron asked Fang Yang respectfully.
"Yes," Fang Yang replied with a calm nod.
He then took a seat at the southernmost table.
The tent had been set up by a small tribe to serve breakfast, and it was quite popular.
It was also Fang Yang's listening post for news about the war on the front lines.
Perhaps because more people were up early today, business was much brisker than usual, so much so that the cook's five-year-old daughter had to help out.
"Ah...!" The little girl cried out in pain as she stumbled and fell.
The large bowl of meat soup she had been carefully carrying with both hands spilled right in front of Fang Yang. She even hit her head on his boot, ending up in a miserable heap on the ground.
"I'm sorry, Sir, I'm so sorry!" The cook rushed over, his face ashen. He dropped to his knees on the spot, grabbing his daughter's head to force her to kowtow.
Tears streamed down the little girl's face in fright, but she didn't dare make a sound.
The other customers looked on with cold indifference before slowly turning their gazes away.
"You can't even handle a simple task like this, and you're crying?!" The cook, a mess of terror and fury, raised his large hand to strike the child, hoping to appease Fang Yang.
However, before his hand could fall, Fang Yang caught his wrist, holding it fast.
"That's enough. It was a small mistake, nothing more. Just hurry and bring me another bowl of soup," Fang Yang said gently.
Fang Yang then helped the little girl to her feet and gestured for her to go back to the kitchen area.
The little girl stopped crying and dazedly made her way to the back.
On her way, though, she kept glancing back at Fang Yang. 'This big brother... he seems different from the other customers. He seems a little... gentle?'
"Thank you for your mercy, Sir! Thank you!" The cook couldn't stop himself from kowtowing again in gratitude.
Before long, a piping hot, fragrant bowl of meat soup was placed on his table.
Fang Yang began to eat his breakfast, his routine undisturbed and orderly.
As the saying goes: when you have a higher mountain to climb, you don't mind the mud at your feet.
Other than the Path of Longevity, which was non-negotiable, nothing else truly mattered to Fang Yang.
'So, whether he appeared cold and aloof or gentle and considerate, it was all just a mask.'
'He wore whichever one was most useful at the time.'
'And most of the time, his status dictated that maintaining a cold and aloof facade yielded the greatest benefits.'
'But the longer you wear a mask, the harder it is to take off.'
"The War Merit Rankings have changed again. Fang Hao made it into the top twenty. Too bad he's still a step behind Zhang Duo. Tsk, tsk, the classic Fang versus Zhang rivalry..."
"I can't believe that after splitting his forces, the Dao Seed Qingkong didn't attack us. He went for the Cangmu Banner instead."
"Didn't drink nearly enough yesterday. So boring."
"Truly worthy of a Dao Seed. What guts, to dare split his forces like that!"
"The Cold Flood Dragon Banner suffered a setback, and now the Cangmu Banner is under attack. It looks like our Thunder Punishment Banner will be joining the fight soon."
"This is weak! Add more from the tea cake, you hear me!"
"Feels like the clash between the Dao Seeds is getting closer."
"..."
Inside the tent, the customers chattered away.
Their conversations were a chaotic, fragmented mess that Fang Yang had to sift through himself.
Fortunately, almost everyone was talking about the same thing today: the shifting tides of war.
The Cangmu Banner had been dragged into the war, and the Thunder Punishment Banner was on its way to provide support.
Seated at the southernmost table, Fang Yang grew thoughtful, his mind sinking into the glowing orb of his "Seek Fortune, Avoid Calamity" talent.
'The war is now a complex and perilous mess, yet I've truly managed to stay out of the chaos. This must be one half of what the most auspicious fortune predicted.'
'And the opportunity I gained at the Young Dragon Tea Party after coming to the Thunder Punishment Banner... that must be the other half.'
'The predictions for the lesser and least auspicious fortunes can likely be verified in the same way.'
'It all adds up. It all perfectly adds up!'
'It seems the Young Dragon Tea Party was just an excuse for Sen Wei to call Sen Hui back.'
'And it's thanks to this that I was able to move from the Cangmu Banner to the Thunder Punishment Banner, escaping the vortex of war.'
In that instant, everything became crystal clear to Fang Yang as he connected the dots.
'I just wonder how Second Uncle is doing. I hope he's safe.'
Suddenly, Fang Yang's ears twitched. He looked up, his gaze directed outside the tent.
Outside, Sen Hui was walking over at a leisurely pace, accompanied by Qing Que'Er.
Sen Hui's arrival captured nearly everyone's attention.
It wasn't just due to her devastating beauty, but also her exalted status.
"Fang Yang, the war has escalated. My sister says the Young Dragon Tea Party is suspended for now, so you don't need to come to the Cyan Lotus Palace anymore." Sen Hui unceremoniously sat down across the table from him.
Her extremely relaxed posture made Qing Que'Er's eyes sparkle with interest.
"...So you came all the way here just to tell me that?" Fang Yang asked in surprise.
"Not just for that. I was just telling you that in passing. I came to make sure you don't forget to practice your Pill Master techniques."
"I haven't forgotten."
"Good. Then starting today, I'll be sure to carry out Elder Fang's request and see to it that you don't slack off."
"You want to manage me?"
"What do you mean, 'manage'? Elder Fang specifically asked me to do this, and you agreed to it!"
"Heh. In that case, do you know how my Second Uncle is doing?"
"Elder Fang is the renowned 'Medicine Fox.' Of course he's fine. He's with the people of the Ten Thousand Birds Tribe right now."
The relaxed atmosphere of the conversation between Fang Yang and Sen Hui left the nearby Qing Que'Er inwardly astonished.
In Qing Que'Er's memory, the Second Miss, Sen Hui, had never been this vivacious.
'So, Her Ladyship's judgment was correct. The Second Miss secretly has feelings for Fang Yang?'
「Meanwhile.」
Sen Hui noticed something odd: a little girl kept stealing glances at Fang Yang.
Just then, the ever-observant Qing Que'Er leaned in and quietly explained the history between Fang Yang and the little girl.
"Oh, so that's what happened." Sen Hui's eyes sparkled after hearing the story, and a peculiar feeling stirred within her.
It was as if she had discovered a hidden side to Fang Yang, which greatly satisfied her curiosity. 'I knew it,' she thought. 'Fang Yang isn't a bad person at heart!'
...
The Cangmu Banner had been drawn into the war, and unfortunately, the Fang Clan held little power within the Thunder Punishment Banner.
Taking these factors into account, Fang Yang decided to lie low for the time being and focus on steady development.
This meant he would temporarily follow Sen Hui's lead, delving into the art of a Pill Master alongside her.
Riding the wind to soar to greater heights was, after all, an essential skill for any eagle to master.
「Night.」
A silver moon hung in the sky, scattering its clear, bright radiance.
At the Cyan Lotus Palace, cyan lotuses bloomed upon the pond. It was a tranquil, timeless scene—a picture of perfect peace.
"The five notes of the ancient scale—Gong, Shang, Jue, Zhi, and Yu—correspond to the five elements: metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. They can influence the five emotions—joy, anger, melancholy, pensiveness, and fear—and in turn affect the five zang-organs: the heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys..."
In the pavilion at the center of the pond, Sen Hui's voice was as clear and pleasant as a stream babbling over stones.
She was eloquently explaining the Mystical Skills of medicinal music to Fang Yang.
Her words were followed by the melodious notes of a qin, a tune that seemed to rival celestial music. It flowed from beneath her slender, jade-like fingers, incomparably serene and sacred.
Moonlight spilled over her, making her radiant face all the more captivating and adding to her youthful bloom. Her fair skin seemed to glow with a soft, translucent light. She was like a celestial fairy descending to the mortal world—divine and pure.
Watching her from across the pavilion, Fang Yang felt his heartstrings tremble.
Fang Yang realized, 'I've underestimated Sen Hui!'