Chapter Sixty: The Morning Drive

In the early morning, just as dawn broke, Feng Yuan awoke and set off running toward the hill behind the village, exercising his body. After his run, he would bathe and eat, then spend the entire day writing his novel. In the evenings, he devoted himself to absorbing the golden light from his novel and cultivating his strength.

So the days passed, each one much like the last—monotonous, perhaps, but Feng Yuan did not find them dull in the least. On the contrary, he found them rather interesting, especially as he watched his cultivation slowly increase. The feeling was much like planting a sapling and watching it sprout and grow, filling him with a sense of accomplishment.

After the first acupoint opened on his chest, the golden light in his dantian began to assault the second one, which lay right beside the first. But this second acupoint was far harder to open. The golden light battered at it for four or five days with no visible effect; the acupoint remained shrouded in darkness, nothing discernible within.

Besides this, Feng Yuan noticed that the golden light above his head had grown fainter over the past few days—only a few dozen points remained. He suspected that before long, it would vanish entirely. The arrival of this golden light had been mysterious, and its disappearance was no less puzzling. Feng Yuan pored over the nameless cultivation manual, searching for answers, but found none, leaving him rather frustrated.

One morning, as usual, Feng Yuan rose early, preparing to set out for his run. To his surprise, Hu Xiao was already up, fully dressed, standing in the courtyard and waiting for him.

“Young master, I want to run with you!” Hu Xiao approached Feng Yuan with a bright smile.

“Of course, it’ll be nice to have someone to talk to and pass the time,” Feng Yuan replied to Hu Xiao, and together they headed out, following his usual running route toward the hillside at the back of the village. They jogged side by side, chatting idly as they ran.

But after only a few words, Feng Yuan found himself distracted from the conversation, his attention drawn instead to Hu Xiao’s chest. The girl’s breasts were so ample—firm as papayas—and as she ran, they bounced up and down as though they might burst free at any moment. The sight made Feng Yuan’s heart race and his mind restless.

Hu Xiao, oblivious, complained as she ran, “Young master, it’s so much better being a man, without a chest to get in the way. Look at mine—when I run, they bounce all over the place. It’s uncomfortable and such a burden!”

She even reached up to support them with her hands, keeping them from swinging out of control.

Feng Yuan, already unsettled, was caught off guard by her frankness. He almost had a nosebleed right there and quickly turned his head away, refusing to look any longer, lest he lose all control and commit some beastly act. She was just a young girl, after all—still a minor—and even more, a fox spirit. Though Feng Yuan came from the twenty-first century, the idea of relations between man and beast was still beyond his acceptance.

He pretended not to hear, refusing to look at Hu Xiao, fixing his eyes straight ahead as he ran.

But Hu Xiao, seeing his silence, pressed on, “They say men like women with big chests, but young master, you never look at mine. Are you really a man?”

Feng Yuan nearly choked on his own spit at that, thinking, Good grief, must you be so brazen? Must you force me to take you here and now? Can’t we just run in peace without all this talk?

“Xiao Xiao, that’s enough!” Feng Yuan glared at her sternly. “Don’t mention your chest again. You’re still young; you shouldn’t be talking about such things!”

“But you never look at my chest, young master. It makes me anxious. Is it because mine aren’t big enough?” Hu Xiao pouted in frustration. “Actually, they’re quite large; it’s just that my clothes cover them. If I took off my clothes, you’d see for yourself. If you don’t believe me, you can check.”

Feng Yuan was speechless.

“Enough about this—no more!” he said, dabbing his nose as though to staunch a nosebleed, growing angry.

“But why? Young master, I belong to you. Why can’t we talk about these things? Are you shy? Or do you not understand? If you don’t, I can teach you. I’ve heard about the things between men and women—people say it’s quite pleasurable. Don’t you want to try?” Hu Xiao’s cheeks were flushed, her gaze alluring, and Feng Yuan could barely contain himself.

A thousand-year-old fox spirit indeed—her seductive skills were second to none. Anyone with less self-control would likely have given in by now.

“Xiao Xiao, I know everything; I don’t need your lessons. But you’re still too young. Wait a few years, until you’ve grown up, and then we’ll talk. For now, let’s drop the subject, or I’ll really get angry and sell you off!” Feng Yuan said sternly.

Hu Xiao pouted, clearly displeased, muttering under her breath, “Maybe the young master is… incapable. I know some remedies for that…”

Feng Yuan could only sigh.

No, he thought, he couldn’t bring this girl running anymore. Otherwise, his health would only get worse with each run.

Afraid that Hu Xiao would continue her provocative talk, Feng Yuan stopped chatting, burying his head and running straight up the slope. When he reached halfway up the hill, feeling tired, he stopped, sat down to rest, and gazed at the village below. The view from here had its own special charm. When his gaze passed over the estate of the local landlord, he noticed thick black mist swirling above the house. This wasn’t ordinary fog, but a strange, sinister vapor. Feng Yuan had noticed it a few days ago, but it was even denser now. He wondered what was happening in the landlord’s home—perhaps something evil was afoot.

Not that Feng Yuan cared to meddle. If misfortune had indeed struck, so much the better—he could only hope the evil would rid the village of that bully for good.

“Young master, that family is in trouble,” Hu Xiao observed, pointing toward the landlord’s house.

“I know. Leave them be—they’re not good people,” Feng Yuan replied.

“Oh,” Hu Xiao nodded.

After resting for a while, Feng Yuan noticed that the old sage’s temple was not far behind them. On a whim, he decided to pay it a visit. The other day, several yellow weasels had escaped there—perhaps they were still hiding inside. If so, he would catch them all and put an end to their mischief.

With this in mind, Feng Yuan rose and made his way toward the dilapidated temple, Hu Xiao following close behind. As they approached, Feng Yuan suddenly sensed something amiss—a powerful, sinister aura emanating from within.

This was not the aura of a demon or beast, but the same chilling, evil spirit he had sensed from Lan Qirou.

Had the temple held only traces of demonic energy, Feng Yuan would not have been surprised; after all, there had been trouble with monsters here before. But this dense ghostly presence was something else entirely.

With mounting caution, the two of them edged into the ruined temple.

What met their eyes inside made both their faces pale in an instant.