Chapter Forty-Three: Every Family Has Its Own Troubles

The next day, Fang Xiao rose early. As usual, he washed up first and then ate breakfast. Of course, he didn’t forget to feed the big green mule a Spirit Feed Pill. The original supply of Spirit Feed Pills had run out, but last night Daoist Pang left him another bag, stating it would be the last. After this, he’d have to feed the mule ordinary fodder.

After practicing Demon-Suppressing Fist several times, stretching and warming up his muscles and bones, Fang Xiao checked the time—it was about right. He set off for Zhen Family Village at the foot of the mountain.

He had been to Zhen Family Village before and was familiar with it, but he didn’t know where Sophora lived. This, however, was a minor problem. At the village entrance, he stopped a child in split pants, snot dripping down his nose, and said, “Take me to Widow Qin’s house, and I’ll give you a piece of candy.”

The dirty little fellow’s eyes lit up immediately, and he sprinted into the village. Soon enough, he led Fang Xiao to Widow Qin’s home.

Fang Xiao spotted Sophora sitting at the doorway, picking wild vegetables.

“Sophora!” he called out.

Hearing Fang Xiao’s voice, Sophora looked up instantly, both surprised and delighted. “Brother Fang!”

The little girl quickly set aside her round bamboo sieve and ran over, beaming with joy. “Why are you here?”

Fang Xiao was about to answer when suddenly his sleeve was tugged. The child who had guided him was gazing at him expectantly. “Candy.”

Embarrassed, Fang Xiao hurriedly fished a candy stick from his satchel. His White Rabbit milk candy refreshed daily. The child snatched it happily, stuffing it into his mouth, drool spilling from the corners.

The next moment, the five- or six-year-old suddenly felt a chill in his heart, a nameless fear creeping over him. Instinctively, he turned his head and saw Sophora staring at him, her eyes glinting coldly.

“Wow!” The child bolted, crying loudly as he ran, as though a wild dog was chasing him.

Fang Xiao was baffled. “What happened? Is the White Rabbit candy not tasty?”

“That’s Dog Egg from Zhen Fifth’s family,” Sophora said with a pursed smile. “Born a crybaby, very annoying. Don’t mind him.”

“Forget it,” Fang Xiao replied, not much concerned. But Sophora cared. She twisted her clothes in her hands, lowered her head, and whispered, “Brother, did you give my White Rabbit candy to Dog Egg?”

Her voice was full of grievance.

“Uh…”

Fang Xiao scratched his head. “I didn’t know where your house was, so I asked him to guide me and promised him a piece of candy.”

Sophora rose on her tiptoes and crushed an ant passing by. She spoke softly, “I thought Brother Fang’s candy was always for me.”

Fang Xiao nearly scratched his scalp raw. “From now on, I’ll save them only for you.”

“Thank you, Brother,” Sophora’s lips curled into a smile, her eyes flashing mischievously. “I knew you loved me best.”

Unable to resist, Fang Xiao rubbed the little girl’s head. He had lost his father young, then his mother, always alone. And now, in this wholly unfamiliar world, though he trusted Daoist Pang most, the girl before him felt like a lovable sister, making him feel less lonely.

Sophora tilted her head. “Brother Fang, did you come for something?”

“Oh, right!” Fang Xiao slapped his forehead. “Nearly forgot what I came for. Is your mother home?”

No sooner had he spoken than a gentle, melodious voice sounded from the courtyard entrance. “I’m here.”

Widow Qin appeared at the gate, smiling. “Sophora, invite Fang Xiao in. Go brew a pot of tea.”

“Yes!” Sophora responded crisply and dashed inside.

Fang Xiao entered the yard. Widow Qin brought a bamboo stool. “Please, sit.”

“Thank you.” Fang Xiao had just sat down when he sensed something odd. He turned instinctively and saw an old woman under the crooked-neck tree in the corner of the courtyard.

Her hair was white, her face shriveled like a wrung-out rag, deep wrinkles etched across her features, her triangular eyes harsh and cold. Fang Xiao looked at her, and the old woman stared back, her gaze icy and venomous, unsettling.

Was this Widow Qin’s mother-in-law? Fang Xiao recalled Daoist Pang mentioning that after Widow Qin lost her husband, she lived with her two daughters and her mother-in-law, who was also a widow.

“Mother-in-law,” Widow Qin said cheerfully, “it’s chilly outside. Please go inside and rest.”

In truth, the courtyard was hardly cool—if anything, it was warm. The old lady snorted, actually got up, and went inside, slamming the wooden door shut.

“My mother-in-law is old,” Widow Qin explained gently. “Her mind is a bit muddled. Don’t mind her.”

Fang Xiao remembered a saying—every family has its own difficult scripture. He felt sympathy. With such a grandmother, Sophora’s days were surely not easy.

“Of course not.” Fang Xiao quickly took out a medicine bottle from his satchel and handed it to Widow Qin. “Daoist Pang asked me to give you this.”

Widow Qin took it, curiosity written on her face. “What is it?”

“Beauty-preserving Pill,” Fang Xiao explained. “Daoist Pang said that once you take it, your appearance will never change.”

While he spoke, he failed to notice the flicker in Widow Qin’s eyes—shock, bewilderment, disbelief—so complex, yet she masked it well, smiling calmly. “Daoist Pang is thoughtful.”

Only her hand holding the bottle trembled slightly, betraying inner turmoil.

“And…” Fang Xiao had no idea how rare the Beauty-preserving Pill was, nor how madly women might covet it. He thought it a trivial errand. In this world of demons, ghosts, and immortals, everlasting beauty wasn’t such a big deal… right?

Fang Xiao continued, “Daoist Pang will be secluded for a while, and I’m heading to Liuhe Academy to study, so there’s no need to deliver meals to the temple for now.”

Widow Qin quietly slipped the bottle into her sleeve and nodded. “Alright.”

“Ah?” At that moment, Sophora rushed in, grabbing Fang Xiao’s hand with surprise. “Brother Fang, you’re going to Liuhe Academy?”

“Yes,” Fang Xiao replied with a smile. “To study martial arts in the academy’s martial hall!”

Sophora turned to Widow Qin, her face full of grievance. “Mother—”

Widow Qin frowned. “Don’t be naughty!”

Sophora pouted and scurried back inside.

Fang Xiao was utterly confused.

“Don’t mind her,” Widow Qin apologized. “She’s spoiled by me and throws tantrums.”

“Alright.” Fang Xiao stood. “I’ll head back then.”

“Mm.” Widow Qin didn’t try to keep him, escorting him to the door herself. “Take care, young man.”

She feared that if Fang Xiao lingered any longer, she’d be unable to conceal her true self.