It had been a long time since Liu Xiaolou last heard from Zhuoshui, so he quickly opened the letter.

In it, Zuo Gaofeng reported on the current state of the fighting and the situation of their comrades at Wulong Mountain.

The war had already dragged on for half a year. According to private conversations among the Wulong Mountain cultivators, most believed that Gengsang Cave had gathered over six hundred cultivators from Badong, while the Zhanglong Sect had rallied more than eight hundred. Many of them weren’t rogue cultivators from western Xian, but had come from southern and central Xian.

So, while it looked on the surface like only the Zhanglong Sect was blocking the front, behind the scenes they were almost certainly backed by the Dongyang Sect and Tianmu Mountain. Whether Gengsang Cave had the support of other Bashu sects was unclear. To the cultivators of Jing- Xiang, Bashu cultivators all sounded much the same when they spoke, so it was hard to tell.

Eight hundred against six hundred meant the advantage lay with them, which gave the Wulong Mountain cultivators some confidence that they could hold Zhuoshui and drive the Badong cultivators back. Still, after half a year of deadlock, with two major battles and countless smaller skirmishes, almost everyone at Wulong Mountain was carrying wounds.

Zuo Gaofeng, Dragon Mountain Wandere, and Tan Bajhang had each suffered more than one serious injury. If not for the pills Liu Xiaolou had brought, it would be hard to say how things might have turned out. Even so, their comrades had gained a fair bit: they picked up plenty of good items from the corpses of Badong cultivators, pooled their money to buy a new batch of pills at the Tianmen Mountain market, and for now were managing well.

Of course, losses were unavoidable. Over the past few months, Wulong Mountain had lost five more comrades in battle. Among them, the one Liu Xiaolou knew best was the second of the Seven Brothers of Guzhang Mountain. From now on, Guzhang Mountain would no longer have seven brothers, only six.

It was heartbreaking news. Remembering that uncle with his wrinkled face and a smile like an old farmer in the fields, Liu Xiaolou couldn’t help but feel a pang in his chest.

By his count, a total of nine Wulong Mountain cultivators had already given their lives by the banks of Zhuoshui. If it had been him, would he still be alive?

In that sense, no matter whether life on Shenwu Mountain was smooth or not, no matter how the Su family treated him, at least under the shelter of that great tree he hadn’t been sent off to a place where life and death were uncertain. For that, he owed a debt he could not ignore.

Zuo Gaofeng also wrote that the war might soon be coming to an end. Gengsang Cave could not overcome Zhuoshui, and from all signs it seemed they already had retreat on their minds. Everyone was prepared, determined to strike hard when the enemy pulled back and hopefully seize some spoils.

At the end, Zuo Gaofeng said he had already chosen a name for his child. If he himself could not return, he asked Liu Xiaolou to look after the child, and if the boy or girl proved to have the talent for cultivation, he hoped Liu Xiaolou would take the child as a disciple.

Liu Xiaolou glanced at Auntie Li’s belly and asked, “What will you name the child?”

Auntie Li stroked her stomach. “If it’s a boy, he’ll be called Zuo Wanshan. If it’s a girl, Zuo Qianshui.”

Liu Xiaolou couldn’t help but smile and nodded. “Good names.”

Not long after, Li Busan’s voice came from outside the house. “Uncle! Grandma! Auntie! The fish soup’s ready…”

A steaming pot of fish soup was carried in. The old woman and Auntie Li quickly cleared the table and set out wooden bowls and bamboo chopsticks.

Auntie Lu, who had gone out earlier to fetch water, came in holding a rice pot. She cast a nervous glance at Liu Xiaolou. “Just now… I went to fetch water…” she said.

Liu Xiaolou kept his face stern. “As long as you weren’t slacking off on purpose, it’s fine.”

Auntie Lu panicked, digging her nails hard into her fingers. “No, I wasn’t. I’d never dare slack off…”

Liu Xiaolou’s expression softened. “Sit down and eat with us.”

Forcing a smile, Auntie Lu hurried to serve rice for everyone.

“Martial Uncle, Auntie Lu is very hardworking,” whispered Li Busan.

Liu Xiaolou nodded. “I understand. And as for you, remember this: cultivation isn’t just about sitting still. True cultivation is found in every part of daily life. What is it when you sit without moving? That’s what a turtle does! Chopping wood, carrying water, cooking meals; each of these is cultivation. If you refuse to do anything, if you don’t know how to do anything, then what you cultivate into is a fool. A fool who can’t do a single thing. At best, you’d be nothing more than a big human-shaped spirit stone, just transferring the spiritual energy from a rock into your body.”

Li Busan nodded eagerly. “I heard from Master that when Martial Uncle first came up the mountain, you also started with chopping wood and carrying water?”

Liu Xiaolou smiled. “Ah, back in those days… but you drink the soup first. Drink up, this fish soup is excellent, very nourishing. Auntie Li, have a little more so your milk will come in plenty later… Back then, when I went up the mountain, I was only eight years old. The moment I arrived at that little courtyard on Qianzhu Ridge, I saw the house half-collapsed, the fence toppled, weeds growing everywhere. My master handed me a sickle and said, ‘Xiaolou, today I’ll teach you to cut grass. Remember, cutting grass is cultivation too. If you master this skill, you’ll be able to earn spirit stones with it in the future.’....”

That evening, the General’s Temple  glowed with warm lamplight. Laughter and cheerful voices drifted out through the windows. After the meal, Liu Xiaolou sat with Li Busan in his room, guiding him on how to circulate true qi  through his meridians, how to open his acupoints, and other key techniques. Of course, he didn’t use methods from Yin-Yang Arts. As a cultivator at the fifth layer of Qi Refinement, he was more than capable of teaching the basics to a youth still struggling along his very first meridian.

The next day, Liu Xiaolou left the General’s Temple to return to the mountain. On the mountain path he happened to run into Yun Ao, who had come to pay a visit. Liu Xiaolou quickly apologized. “Brother Yun, you’re here… ah, I’m truly sorry to have kept you waiting so long. I only just returned last month. As you know, I was invited by the Jinting Sect to help set up their mountain-guarding formation on Jinting Mountain…”

“I know,” said Yun Ao. “That’s why I’ve come up the mountain now. But I heard you’ve been back for nearly a month. Why didn’t you let us know sooner?”

Liu Xiaolou explained, “While at Jinting Mountain, I was fortunate enough to be taken under the wing of the formation grandmaster Tang Song. I served as his assistant and received much of his guidance, learning quite a lot. After I returned, I started rethinking the structure of my formation disk, to see if there were ways to improve it. That’s why I was late. It wasn’t intentional.”

Yun Ao leaned in eagerly. “And? How did you improve it? Have you made new breakthroughs?”

In truth, Liu Xiaolou had thought about improving the formation disk while on Jinting Mountain, but it was only an idea he hadn’t acted on. After coming back, he had been busy with his own cultivation and hadn’t had time to tinker with it. But since Yun Ao knew nothing of such matters, Liu Xiaolou bragged, “More refined, more intricate than before. You’ll see for yourself soon enough, Brother Yun.”

Yun Ao was overjoyed. “Let’s do it here then, quickly. These past days I’ve been kept busy at home… well, this spot is fine. Saves me from going up and down the mountain, spares a good seven or eight li.”

Liu Xiaolou didn’t object. He found a quiet place sheltered from the wind and activated the Abyssal Blackstone Formation.

Yun Ao entered the formation for a while, then hurriedly signaled and stepped out, his face full of delight. “It really is more refined, more intricate than before! I’ll be off now!”

Of course, there had been no improvements at all. It was only that after several months away, everything looked fresh again. Liu Xiaolou naturally wouldn’t expose him. He simply smiled, saw him off, and reminded him, “Brother Yun, you still have seven uses left.”

Yun Ao waved as he rushed home. “I know!”

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, turning back to Liu Xiaolou. “Almost forgot. Your Thirteenth Brother has run into trouble at Zhuoshui. It seems he was captured by cultivators from Badong.”