Chapter 118 - Chicken and fries

  Fang Zhao looked as though he’d been insulted.

  “Jade beauties have spread their legs for me—” He was interrupted by an angry cat who jumped up and scratched his face. Mistress Miao left five lines of blood that might have otherwise been mistaken as warpaint and scampered off between his legs and up the stairs. Fang Zhao cried out and chased after her.

  “What are they doing?” Huang Niuniu said.

  “The question is, why are they doing it ?” Yu Han said. Fei Rui looked thoughtful at that, clinking his shell under his mandibles with a claw.

  “Carry me,” Huang Niuniu commanded.

  “Uh.” Yu Han was unsure.

  “Lift me up.” Her demands continued.

  Yu Han didn’t know what to say. It was a perfect chance to cop a feel—

  “You make me feel fat,” Huang Niuniu said. “Am I that heavy?”

  “Now you know what I feel,” Yu Han said.

  She giggled.

  “Why are you so happy?”

  “Guess.”

  “Bloodline art?”

  “Nope.”

  “Because I said Fang Zhao might fall for you?”

  “You were jealous,” she giggled again.

  He didn’t princess carry her. He supported her with his shoulder and they both stumbled up. The balance was awkward. So he piggybacked her. Two soft spheroids pressed against his back.

  Mistress Miao perched high up a tree. Fang Zhao tried to climb it but every time a branch would hit his face. The cat had good aim. She would make pitchers weep.

  “Your mother has failed you,” the cat snarled. “I will educate in her stead.”

  “Come down here, you demon ca—ugh!” Another branch hit his face. It wasn’t doing his existing bruises from Zhang Jiyou any favours.

  “Perverted boy,” Mistress Miao said. She jumped to another tree, and then she was gone. “Intercourse before marriage is punishable by death.”

  Whoa, a religious zealot?

  “To be fair Fang Zhao,” Huang Niuniu said. “You kinda suck.”

  “I helped you awaken a second bloodline art, and this is how you thank me?” The boy was not happy.

  “Somebody forgot that it was supposed to be a repayment of debt. Debt.”

  Fang Zhao had nothing to say. He took out a blood-filled waterskin and poured it on his face. The bruises and cat-scratches looked all the more grievous.

  By the time they reached the Nest of Storm-like Heroes, the scratches had healed noticeably. Cyclic Lifeblood Conversion was not an average garden variety art.

  “Fang Zhao,” Yu Han said as they neared his hut. “Thanks.”

  The red-eyed boy nodded, “Don’t force it. If the pressure from Zhang Ji—”

  “He can trip over his pants and break his dick. More importantly,” Yu Han invited the boy in after placing Huang Niuniu on the bed. “I got books for you.”

  Fifty martial arts manuals.

  Fang Zhao leafed through the texts. How far could he go?

  “B-Brother Yu, this is too much.”

  Yu Han levelled him a glare.

  “I’ll give them back in a week. No, six days—”

  Huang Niuniu threw a jar at him. It wasn’t Yu Han’s. She must have taken it out from the storage pouch.

  Fang Zhao deftly caught it.

  “Stop showing off. Go away!” She howled.

  “What did I do?” Fang Zhao asked.

  “You said you can learn 50 martial arts in six days? Who says that!?”

  Fang Zhao looked at the text in his hand. Then at Huang Niuniu. He shrugged.

  “Fox-bedding son of a radish,” she said.

  “Thanks?” Fang Zhao looked confused.

  “Face slapped failure!” Huang Niuniu grumbled.

  “Brother Yu, I’ll take my leave,” he shook Yu Han’s hand. Then gave Huang Niuniu a mocking look. “I’ll try to be done in five days.”

  “Cat-scratched swine!”

  After Fang Zhao left, Yu Han gave Huang Niuniu a shoulder massage.

  “Most would call you petty,” Yu Han said.

  “You missed an ‘r’.” Huang Niuniu melted.

  Why did that joke work in Yellow Tongue?

  “What art did you get?” Her head was on his lap, looking up. There they were again. The eyes full of stars. Like an ocean in a glass ball, full of phytoplankton glowing in every colour. Sometimes her eyes were neon, like a cyberpunk glare. Other times they were ethereal, like firefies trapped in a crystal.

  “Inkwell Tendrils,” Yu Han waved a hand. A line of translucence uncoiled from the space around him. It was like another limb, yet that of an infant’s. He could barely move it on command. It felt like the bones inside were brittle and gelatinous, and the limb was wrapped in cold meat.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  So I can feel with it? No… I can feel it, but not with it.

  It went through Huang Niuniu’s face, the bed, and even his own hand without reacting.

  Why did it react to the black water? Was that really ink?

  When he made the tendril appear, he felt something more. A stomachache? No. Maybe something had happened in his organs.

  “I think I can puke ink,” Yu Han said. His voice grim.

  Huang Niuniu made a face.

  “I also have an invisible tentacle.”

  “Where is it?” She asked.

  “It’s invisible. You can’t see it.”

  “What are you doing with it?” She asked more insistently.

  Yu Han removed it from Huang Niuniu’s cheeks.

  “Were you touching me?” It was a question, but it sounded like an accusation.

  “I can’t,” Yu Han said. “I can’t touch anything with it. It feels cold even when it goes through stuff. It’s like the image of us that appears when I project a mnemonic pearl or jade of moments.”

  “You could move that black stuff.”

  “I think that was ink. The tendril can only touch…ink? I’ll test it later. What did you get?”

  She closed her eyes.

  “Guess the grade.”

  “Mortal?”

  “No.”

  “Elite?”

  “No.”

  “Earth?”

  She shook her head while it was in his grasp. Yu Han’s heartbeat sped up.

  “Royal?”

  Huang Niuniu parted her lips. “No.”

  “What’s above that?”

  “Imperial.”

  “Niu’er.”

  “It’s called Wispcrafting Synthesis. Han’er, my trial changed. Before, I had to find a river of phytoplankton.” She took three tries to pronounce that right. “Now I have to accord with one.”

  “How would you even…”

  “It’s what was in the jar,” Huang Niuniu said. “The dao sent down fourteen edicts. Fourteen! Han’er, this is a new path. The dao said so. No one has done it before in the… thousands of years our world has existed.”

  “I think our realm has existed for way longer,” Yu Han said.

  “Well how was I supposed to know that?” Huang Niuniu said. “Millions? What’s bigger than that?”

  “Billions,” Yu Han said.

  “Well, doesn’t matter. I’m super special. The dao said so.” There was a quiver in her voice. Was she excited? Afraid? Yu Han had trouble understanding that look. She was staring right into his soul. And those eyes. Are they permanently on? They would attract trouble if nothing else. “Do you get it? No one has done this before. The dao called this world the Mortal Heaven of Myriad Confluences. We’re apparently a heaven? Did we die somewhere else and come here?”

  “Holy shit, Niu’er,” Yu Han’s eyes bugged out. Is everyone a transmigrator?

  “I’m special. The dao told me so. If I wasn’t limited by my spirit root, my talent, this bloodline art would be the highest—… the dao gave me a tempering too. I’ll have to pass this down. Wait, I can’t start my own sect, can I? Courtyard? Clan? Should I make babies? No! But it’s a bloodline art. D-Do I have to? If it’s with you—no! No. B-Besides, it can be taught to any cultivator with a wisp-type bloodline. All they have to do is accord with a real wisp. Han’er, Feral Spot is a wisp too, right? Would he accord with me? But he’s not a river of phytoplankton. What do I dooooo—”

  Yu Han cupped her cheeks. His big, fat hands framed her fretting face. Her lips squeezed together and puckered forward in a V shape.

  “Whatareyoudoing?” she mumbled.

  “Calm down,” Yu Han said. “This is a good thing. Don’t tell your art grade to anyone.”

  “I bet I’ll be a core disciple if I do,” Huang Niuniu said.

  Yu Han nodded. Good. She was finally thinking selfishly for once. “Then it’s better to tell someone. Senior Tan? Elder Chang?”

  “What about you?” She asked.

  “What about me?” Yu Han tilted his head.

  “Can you come with me?”

  “Probably not. Why does that matter?”

  “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “That’s selfish. You’d deprive the sect of a talent.”

  “Heck if I care,” Huang Niuniu said. “And you told me to be a bit more selfish before.”

  “That’s… not what I meant,” Yu Han said.

  “I don’t care what you meant,” Huang Niuniu beamed.

  “We’ll find that river of phytoplankton.” Yu Han understood he could not force her. This was her decision to make, and he would not be so arrogant to believe he knew what was better for her than she did herself. “And other wisps. You’ll finish your Tempering.”

  “It’s elite-grade,” she said.

  “What is?”

  “Wispcrafting Synthesis,” Huang Niuniu replied. She did not sound happy. “I have to accord with a river of phytoplankton before it can be Imperial Grade. It’s not as strong otherwise. It’s the potential, Han’er. Do you get it? This is a bloodline art that can be taught, change grades depending on talent and accorded wisp. If I accord with lesser wisp beasts, the potential is lower. My Art will be only elite-grade. Maybe Earth? Royal? But definitely not Imperial. If I was a refined talent, or a profound? Then the grade would increase. Do you get it? My babies will be super special. So the dad wouldn’t have many reasons to complain. Right? I’ll as be valuable as a whole clan. A sect! I’m not worthless.”

  “You’re priceless,” Yu Han said.

  “The dao said so. It… she? They. It said so many things,” Huang Niuniu said. Her eyes glimmered, two streaks of tears fell down. Even the water seemed to shine. “Linxue was wrong. She’s a jinxed jade-faced slut. One of those leg spreading seed sowing jade beauties.”

  Yu Han nodded.

  “Wu Di was wrong. Qiao Jinhai was wrong. They’re all failures. They’re filth, worse than poop on the bottom of a cesspool. Valueless leeches.”

  “But you have value,” Yu Han said. “More than anyone can imagine.”

  “Thank you,” she hugged his arm and buried her face in his belly. Soon, her tears soaked his clothes. “Thank you so much. Idea man. Smelly man.”

  “Without Fang Zhao and Mistress Miao, this wouldn’t be possible.”

  “They didn’t know about phytoplankton, or chemical reactions. O-or electrical pathways and oxygen and photosynthesis and—” she whimpered.

  Yu Han let her sleep over. He fidgeted the whole night. Huang Niuniu would not let go. Her body was positively dripping with a certain kind of appeal, and they were both sweaty. The heat built up until it was hard to breathe. Ever undulation of skin would stick them together, and it became harder and harder to push her away.

  Thousand Petals Awareness!

  Yu Han became a monk. A monk that had no desires. All desires had been expelled in the twenty minutes he was gone after telling her he needed to pee. His senses were muted. He became one with none.

  She still wouldn’t stop crying.

  Just when the temptation was becoming unbearable, she called him a coward and fell asleep. Yu Han slept on the floor.

  I might as well be a eunuch.

  It’s not every day even as Johan when a girl had just about thrown herself at him. Huang Niuniu was more than willing. He’d be a fool not to notice.

  But there were so many emotions working there. Not just joy from finally having a chance to become someone, but also a crippling sense of insecurity. A need for validation. Someone to affirm her value in the way nearly everyone in her life had until then taught her. She was a concubine’s daughter, her mother had been a prostitute.

  She was not just that. She was more!

  If Yu Han did give in, he feared their relationship going forward would be built on a foundation of sand. Of toxic give and take. Of—

  Of what? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even sure if not giving in was the bad idea. What if… he was overthinking this?

  Yu Han wasn’t really a monk.

  He was selfish. A real selfish prick.

  He didn’t want to ruin whatever it was they had going on because of an impulsive decision.

  Maybe it would work out. Maybe nothing would go wrong.

  Was it worth the risk?

  A connection so precious must be nurtured carefully. Genuinely.

  Sex would complicate things. It wouldn’t ruin it. But Yu Han did not believe in staying friends after sex. Once one party caught feelings, romantic or sexual, it was impossible to go back to being ‘just friends.’ Or maybe it wasn’t. Whatever. Yu Han didn’t want to risk it. The friendship? No. He didn’t want to risk catching emotions. Not that kind. If he ordered at KFC, the chicken always came with the fries. Perhaps others could order just the chicken or the fries. Yu Han didn’t know how to. Sex and emotion to him were part of one parcel. It wasn’t always so. Maybe not for Johan. But for Yu Han?

  He didn’t doubt it one bit.

  Was he weird? Less of a man?

  He cared about her. Really, he did. Even though he was insanely jealous when she said her art’s grade was freaking Imperial.

  Thank God she didn’t see my face. I’m an ugly mess.

  Yu Han had his own insecurities to deal with. Huang Niuniu had not been subtle with her approaches.

  But every damn time, the image of his ex and everything that had gone wrong would flash by. The image of other girls he had hurt playing around. The curses, the insults, the tears and expectations and rejections.

  That was a literal lifetime ago. But he was afraid.

  He could be a passable friend.

  But could he be a good boyfriend?

  With Huang Niuniu’s emerging talent, she would soar. Maybe even at the level of Fang Zhao. If and when she told the sect… would they take her away? Would Yu Han be able to keep pace? He was behind in combat skills already.

  Would she abandon him?

  If so…

  Wasn’t it better to abandon her first before she could hurt him?