Nestled within the Darong Mountains, a village of only a hundred or so households lay scattered across the land.
A stream flowed down from the mountains, quietly winding past one side of the village. The banks on either side had been cleared into fields of varying sizes. The rice shone like a golden sea, with the sons of farmers toiling deeply within.
It was midday, and a few thin wisps of cooking smoke drifted above the village.
"Finally back."
A tall, straight figure emerged from the forest. His clothes were tattered from the wind and rain of his journey, but his injuries had already healed.
Zhou Ping gazed at his somewhat unfamiliar homeland, unable to stop himself from lowering his head as tears fell.
The Azure Cloud Sect was a full thousand li away from Baixi Village, separated by countless towering mountains, treacherous rivers, and rampant bandits. It had taken him three long months of travel to finally arrive.
It was precisely for this reason that returning home had been so difficult for Zhou Ping in the past.
Ten years of seeking the Dao had yielded nothing, leaving even the faces of his parents blurred in his memory.
"I wonder how Father and Mother are doing. Has Big Brother grown even more stalwart?"
Zhou Ping climbed over an earthen slope and walked toward the village, his thoughts churning.
"Even if I cannot seek out the immortal Dao and eternal life, these abilities of mine should be enough to settle down and establish a family. When the time comes, I can tend the fields while hunting wild beasts and mountain delicacies. Once I secure a livelihood, I can definitely improve my family's days and nourish my parents so they can live a long life."
"If life truly becomes too difficult, I can go to the county town and become a protector. It's a bit dangerous, but it's still a way out."
In the distance, he caught sight of Darong Mountain. Majestic and towering, its aura was profound and mysterious, shrouded in mist and lush greenery. Countless fierce beasts roamed within, and it was even rumored that Demon Beasts dwelled there. Naturally, ordinary mortals dared not venture deep inside.
The demon creature that had once caused a tragedy in Baixi Village had run out from Darong Mountain. In the end, it took the combined strength of over a dozen stout men to trap and kill it.
However, after joining the Azure Cloud Sect, Zhou Ping had naturally gained some understanding of Darong Mountain.
It stretched on for thousands of li, vast and boundless. Baixi Village was merely a corner of one of its branching ridges. The aura here was hidden and the Spiritual Qi was thin, making it completely unsuitable for cultivation, not to mention it sat on the border of human territory.
Any demon creature that had attained a sliver of the Dao would never stay here. Instead, they would head deep into Darong Mountain to pursue their path.
That demon creature from the past had likely just gained sentience by a stroke of luck, making it only slightly stronger than an ordinary wild beast.
If such a spirit or beast were to attack the village again, it would have to taste Zhou Ping's methods.
Although the Spirit Awakening Realm was not a formal cultivation realm, it did not mean he was as weak as a mortal.
Just from his body being nourished by Spiritual Qi, his physical strength far surpassed that of mortal martial artists. For a cultivator like Zhou Ping, his body could hold anywhere from seven to nine strands of Spiritual Qi, allowing him to use this meager Spiritual Qi to cast some unranked techniques.
Of course, even unranked techniques were more than enough to deal with ordinary spirits, beasts, and mortals.
However, since he had not yet condensed his spiritual aperture and was now far from any place rich in aura, gathering every single strand of Spiritual Qi was incredibly difficult. Zhou Ping naturally would not squander it recklessly.
Under the old tree at the village entrance, several young children with their hair tied in tufts were playing and laughing. They quickly noticed Zhou Ping's arrival.
"Who are you? Where did you come from?" A sturdy, tiger-headed boy stepped forward, asking with a mix of caution and curiosity.
Zhou Ping paused, vaguely feeling a sense of familiarity from the child, but he could not quite place it.
"Who are your parents?"
"My dad is Zhao Daquan," the child answered honestly. He did not step back, instead staring straight at Zhou Ping.
Hearing this, Zhou Ping smiled and placed his large hand on the boy's head. He stroked it gently, unable to help but sigh.
"Daquan's son is already this big."
"I am from the Zhou family. Your dad and I were playmates since we were little."
The boy was quite clever for his age. Showing no fear, he muttered in confusion, "Does San'er's family have an adult I haven't met?"
Zhou Ping looked at the few timid children in the distance, roughly guessing which families they belonged to. He pulled a few lumps from his waist pouch and held them in his palm.
"Take these and share them."
The lumps were murky and yellowish-brown, looking terrible, but they made the children's eyes light up.
The sturdy boy snatched them up and dashed back into the group. Then, remembering something, he turned back and shouted to Zhou Ping, "Thank you, Uncle!"
The next moment, a burst of noisy laughter rang out among the children.
Zhou Ping gave a wry smile, as if seeing his own childhood reflection.
Soon after, he took wide strides toward the village.
It was midday and scorchingly hot, and the fields were not far from the village. Naturally, the farmers would not eat in the fields. Instead, they hoisted their farming tools over their shoulders and hurried home, chatting in small groups.
But seeing a strange man like Zhou Ping, they sized him up with caution. A few did recognize him, but since they were not close, they naturally did not step forward to greet him.
Zhou Ping eventually reached a corner of the village, where about a dozen households resided.
Compared to the other houses in the village, these dwellings were dilapidated and aged, with quite a few even being mud-walled thatched huts.
Baixi Village had not been established for long, only seventy or eighty years. It was said that roaming refugees had settled here in the past, resulting in the village's hundred or so households having more than a dozen different surnames. It was unlike other villages, where even a thriving population was dominated by a single surname or a few main ones.
If one looked down at the entire village from a high vantage point, they would see houses clustered in groups of three to five or eight to nine, naturally forming small circles within the village. Each cluster belonged to a specific family or surname.
In a few spots, over a dozen tiled houses stood tall, interconnected and quite imposing.
These naturally belonged to the largest surnames in Baixi Village: Qian, Wang, Liu, and Sun.
Living in clusters and uniting against outsiders, the more thriving a family's population, the stronger their standing in the village. If another hundred years passed without any major upheaval, Baixi Village would likely be entirely dominated by these four families.
As for a small family like the Zhou clan, most of them had moved here gradually after the village's founding. Their numbers were sparse, barely amounting to two or three kittens. To avoid being bullied by the large households, they naturally had to huddle together for warmth.
The dozen or so houses currently before Zhou Ping belonged to the small households of the village. By staying on the village outskirts alongside the Zhou family, they barely managed to withstand the oppression of those large clans.
Even that group of children from earlier were the brats of these small households, naturally playing together because of their fathers' ties.
Looking at the familiar door of his home, Zhou Ping was filled with a myriad of emotions. He stepped forward and knocked heavily on the wood. Thump, thump, thump.
"Who is it?"
An unfamiliar woman's voice came from inside. It was definitely not the voice of Madam Huang.
Zhou Ping's eyes narrowed, his heart sinking as the worst possibilities surfaced in his mind.
Since ancient times, secluded mountain villages bred wicked folk. If some disaster had befallen his family, they would likely be eaten clean, leaving not even bones behind.
The dilapidated wooden door slowly opened a crack. A young farm woman revealed half her face, peering out warily. Seeing a strange man, she hastily tried to shut the door.
But Zhou Ping's large hand forcefully pressed against it. The farm woman was knocked back, stumbling to the ground in a panic.
"I am asking you, is this Old Man Zhou's home? What is your relationship with Old Man Zhou's family?!"
Zhou Ping shouted coldly, a faint wave of Pressure surging toward the farm woman.
The farm woman was a proper commoner. Terrified to the point of turning pale, she was struck speechless with fright.
"Cuilian, what's going on out there?"
At that moment, an old woman's voice echoed from the inner room. A withered, hunched figure hobbled out, leaning on a walking stick. Her hair was white, her face deeply lined with wrinkles.
Madam Huang.
Zhou Ping instantly froze in place. Then, tears filling his eyes, he rushed toward Madam Huang and embraced her tightly, refusing to let go.
"Mother, your son is unfilial!"
"Ping'er? Is it Ping'er?" Madam Huang was dazed and flustered. Her cloudy eyes stared at Zhou Ping, her hands trembling as she stroked him, as if she could not believe the scene before her was real.
"My son!"
Mother and son clung to each other, weeping bitterly.
The farm woman managed to push herself up from the ground, but she still cowered in the corner in fear, not daring to step forward in the slightest.
She had long heard her husband mention a younger brother who had gone out to cultivate the Dao ten years ago. Although he would ask someone to bring back silver and goods every few years, he had never returned.
Who could have imagined that upon finally meeting him today, he would turn out to be such a terrifying and fierce man?
After a long while, Madam Huang finally steadied her emotions and asked with hope.
"Son, now that you're back, will you leave again?"
Looking at the hopeful, almost pleading gaze in his mother's eyes, Zhou Ping could no longer suppress his emotions. Tears fell endlessly.
"I'm not leaving. I won't leave anymore. I'll just stay home with you."
The dazzling wonders beyond the mountains were not something a mediocre person like him could covet. From now on, staying in the village to honor his parents would be good enough.
"Good, good, good. It's good that you aren't leaving. It's good."
Thrilled beyond words, Madam Huang held Zhou Ping tightly, as if comforting a tender child. Then she pointed to the farm woman to the side. "This is your sister-in-law, Lin Cuilian. She's the daughter of Old Fourth Lin from Lin Family Manor, ten li away."
"Greetings, Uncle," Lin Cuilian hurriedly stood up and bowed.
Zhou Ping followed Madam Huang's gaze, finally taking a proper look at his sister-in-law.
She wore a plain, coarse linen tunic. Her appearance was ordinary, her skin sallow, and her hands incredibly rough. She was the absolute picture of a diligent, honest farm wife.
"I was reckless just now and frightened you, Sister-in-law." Zhou Ping sincerely apologized to Lin Cuilian. "Tomorrow I'll head into the mountains to hunt some wild game as an apology to you, Sister-in-law."
"I'm fine! The mountains are dangerous, Uncle. It's best if you don't go," Lin Cuilian cried out in a fluster, worry showing on her face.
"It's no hindrance." Zhou Ping waved his hand, turning his head back to ask Madam Huang, "Mother, where are Father and Big Brother?"
"The autumn harvest is almost here. To prevent pests and birds from eating the crops, they are busy in the fields and won't come back. Later, San'er will take their meal out to the fields."
"San'er is your nephew. He's five years old this year."
"I'm an uncle!" Zhou Ping paused, suddenly overwhelmed with joy.
They say blood is thicker than water. For most people, family bonds outweighed everything, and Zhou Ping was naturally no exception.
"Then I'll deliver the food later. I still remember the way."
"Right, didn't I send you silver to buy land and build a new house?" Zhou Ping looked around the dilapidated mud house. The roof had been patched up who knew how many times. "Why is the house still like this?"
"Mother saved it to help you get a wife."
"Mother," Zhou Ping called out reproachfully. "I sent it back for you to use. What are you keeping it for?"
Madam Huang looked at Zhou Ping with loving heartache. "Your father and I are old. There's no need for us to enjoy blessings anymore. You work hard out there, and you'll still need to start a family. There are plenty of places where you'll need money."
"I won't argue with you. I'm heading out to the fields to help." Zhou Ping felt a wave of exasperation. Seeing the blazing sun outside, he couldn't help but worry about his father and brother. He then turned to Lin Cuilian. "Sister-in-law, where is the food? I'll bring it over."
Lin Cuilian hurriedly took a bamboo basket from the stove and handed it to Zhou Ping. Inside were six or seven freshly baked flatbreads, faintly glistening with oil and a bit of meat.
Taking the bamboo basket, Zhou Ping headed out the door, walking in the direction of his family's fields as he remembered them.53Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLFoZw7dY42
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