Shang Qinghua just didn’t understand. Where was his agreed upon “parting near at hand”?
Why was it that it had been a whole month since the System released the Return Home function, and yet he was still idling his life away in the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way?!
Every time he poked open the System and faced the red and green 【 Yes 】and【 Maybe Next Time 】, he consistently ended up spacing out—then clicked the button on the right and closed the interface.
Next Time on top of Next Time; just a whole bushel of Next Times.
Shang Qinghua blamed this on chronic procrastination. All that is evil, thy name is procrastination!
He didn’t dare return to Cang Qiong Mountain for the time being; he didn’t know if Mobei-Jun was angry enough to go to An Ding Peak to head him off. But half of his savings were stashed in a cave in An Ding Peak, and the other half was in Mobei-Jun’s official residence on the northern border. So this past month, though Shang Qinghua looked at ease, he had actually been living frugally, dining on the wind and lodging under the open skies. If not for that bit of spiritual energy he still had to depend on, there wouldn’t have been much difference between him and a common vagrant.
After wandering for nearly a month, he unexpectedly ran into a certain master-disciple pair while they were enjoying a leisurely scenic tour around the world.
After realizing who they were, Shang Qinghua couldn’t resist rubbing his eyes. After half a minute, he finally confirmed that the young man in plain cotton clothes, still dignified of comportment while carrying a fishing rod and hefting a basket of fish, was Luo Binghe; and after another half a minute, he confirmed that the other, who persisted in putting on his poser act of refined immortal airs to the very end, even while carrying boxes of food to deliver his own meal, was Immortal Master Shen, Peak Lord Shen, Shen Qingqiu.
You’re here doing this cheerful, romantic, cottagecore roleplay while you just left Mobei-Jun alone in the Demon Realm and made me force myself to step up! How tragic, my fate!
Grumbling to himself was one thing, but—how should he put it? Seeing these two still made him very happy.
Especially because he hadn’t eaten a full meal for days.
Don’t complain about an immortal cultivator like him still caring about things like eating a full meal—the comments section had roasted him enough. He wasn’t from Ku Xing Peak; he didn’t play around with inedia!
As their cottagecore life had been disturbed by someone for no good reason, Luo Binghe naturally had no good looks to bestow upon Shang Qinghua. On Shen Qingqiu’s behalf, he wouldn’t show it on his face, but when, after exchanging a few greetings, Shen Qingqiu told him to “go sit down inside,” Bing-ge’s expression still darkened.
These two had, quite sentimentally, built a small bamboo house in a location between jade waters and green mountains. The longer Shang Qinghua sat, the more he felt that these two really were quite well off. As he lounged on a rattan chair, he said, “The house isn’t bad.”
Shen Qingqiu waved his fan. “Why don’t you consider who built it? Could it be bad?”
Shang Qinghua thickened his face, shameless. “Your days truly have been much more comfortable than mine. Would it be possible to let me catch a whiff of Cucumber-bro’s fortune and enjoy a touch of this carefree life for a while?”
“It’s most unfortunate, but you’ve come at a bad time. We were just about to eat.”
“You’re too kind. Arriving early can’t beat arriving on time; I see I came at just the right one. I’ll see how your food is.” With that, he rose and walked to the door of what he suspected was the kitchen, where he lifted the curtain.
Luo Binghe, wearing a light black robe, his sleeves rolled high and expression severe, was currently silently…kneading dough.
He was all grim concentration, with two patches of white on his face and a bit of flour on his eyelashes, like what he was pinching and pulling in his hands wasn’t a ball of dough, but a scroll containing his grand ambitions to unite all the realms!
No, no, no, no, no—
Shang Qinghua felt like his guts were splitting open in dismay. The protagonist he had created, the Bing-ge who emanated pure tyranny as he conquered the multitudes of stallion male protags—
He was kneading dough! Making noodles! Noodles, noodles, noodles (ad infinitum)…
This really was an indescribable fright!
Shang Qinghua silently retreated in defeat. He sat at the table and reached out to find a cup of tea to drink and drown that fright, but it was fished back by Shen Qingqiu.
“Mine.”
Shang Qinghua’s heart was still palpitating. “Do you have a second cup in this house? What’s wrong with letting me use it?”
Shen Qingqiu pointed at the kitchen. “You well know that there isn’t a second cup. So, it’s also his.”
Shang Qinghua was silent.
“You’d dare to use it? If you would, I’ll give it to you.”
Shang Qinghua’s hands changed from pulling to pushing. “Your honor can have it all to himself; unfortunately, I cannot partake.”
Bing-ge continued to cook while the two chatted about this and that.
After listening to Shang Qinghua relay the tale about the emergency at the Mobei clan ice fortress, Shen Qingqiu expressed his doubts. “Really? Just like that?”
“What reason would I have to trick you about this sort of thing?” Shang Qinghua asked. “And what do you mean ‘just like that’? My dignity was at stake. Of course I couldn’t stay any longer.”
“That’s not wrong, per se.” Shen Qingqiu thought, then said, “But you never seemed like that sort of person.”
“What sort of person?”
“The kind who would care all that much about dignity,” Shen Qingqiu said amiably.
With the strength of Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’s resolve, the thickness of his face, and the tenacity of his vitality, he really hadn’t seemed the sort to run after a single beating from Mobei-Jun. After all, he had endured all those years before; how could he have suddenly become weak and sensitive and been overcome with emotion?
“Cucumber-bro,” Shang Qinghua said, embarrassed, “sure, I never hesitated to sell out my principles to get upvotes and tips, and I only incidentally became An Ding Peak Lord, but if you judge me for all that, you’d be the one in the wrong.”
“Aren’t those two things you’ve just cited quite compatible with the conduct I’m judging you for?”
“Aiyah, be a bit nicer to me—a bit gentler, okay? Cucumber-bro, tell me, when would it be best for me to return to the modern world?”
“You really want to return to the modern world?” Shen Qingqiu asked. “So shooting your airplane too often really is bad for your eyesight—you can’t even see the crux of your own problems anymore. Wake up. You’re just waiting for him to apologize, then scoop you back up and continue to lightly beat you three times a day.”