Synopsis: A one-sentence summary: In 1972, after being forced to return to secular life, I went to cultivate immortality~
After transmigrating, in just a few days, Lin Xinghuo became a "t...
Chapter 67 Chapter 67 First update, two updates in one...
I didn't notice it at first, but after living here for a few days, Lin Xinghuo still doesn't understand what the old man meant?
Isn't this just about finding a partner? Fang Tongjian was afraid that she would be kidnapped by those hooligans in the old city. It wasn't that she looked down on them, but these tall and strong-looking guys riding 28-inch bicycles and rushing around in the alleys really didn't have much courage. Although they dared to look at the guards, the little guard comrade standing guard for us was actually not a regular soldier transferred from elsewhere. He was really just a temporary worker in the security department borrowed by the cultural group from the small factory under the street.
Young men who found temporary work in the small factories on the street were often given these positions under the guise of the neighborhood committee, often from families struggling financially. This was evident from the skinny frames of the two or three guards who had been there. Those bad boys, most of them children of wealthy families, were naturally unafraid of them, given their sharp eyes. Not only were they unafraid, they even looked down on them. That day, Lin Xinghuo heard a kid in a military green tweed coat sneer at the young guard, "Stop getting in the way!"
Lin Xinghuo had no idea what kind of person could wear that coat, the material so crisp and straight it looked, but she had no time for other people's bad habits, so she immediately threw a piece of broken tile. She didn't hurt anyone, and bystanders just assumed it had somehow gotten stuck in the bicycle belt. It was dangerous for others to pick up broken tiles, and they had nothing better to do than to pry open someone's door. The puncture was deserved—it wasn't just a small hole; the broken tile had penetrated and completely deflated the tire. Pushing the flat tire to a repair shop would damage the tire, and the guy with the 2.58 million yuan would have to hold onto the front of the bike.
He was wearing a woolen coat that was two sizes too big, and with his arms deliberately open, he was holding a bicycle handlebar in a misguided manner. He was laughed at by his friends who had followed him as soon as he left the alley.
"That medicine doesn't work for me." The medicine with the first-level cotinus coggygria was primarily formulated for ordinary people. Lin Xinghuo had little effect on himself. Even though his skin turned yellow temporarily, the medicinal effect faded as his spiritual energy wore off. Lin Xinghuo, a high-level Qi cultivator with a constant flow of internal energy, found the medicine alone useless.
"All the climbing work is done." Lin Xinghuo pointed to the roof and the wall. From then on, no one could be seen from the outside, so everything quieted down.
Fang Tongjian glanced helplessly at the radiant young disciple, but he didn't agree. While he didn't know what was trending among the young people in the capital, he'd observed them all the way from Buxiantun to the capital. Young women still considered their attire to be in their new military uniforms. A girl's earthy brown jacket and black trousers would be considered "rustic" in the capital. Regardless of the circumstances, the older women favored by the gangs and bad boys in the capital were likely to be anything but rustic. But if those bad boys ever changed their ways, they'd probably all say the girl was incredibly beautiful, and a bit of rusticity wouldn't matter in the face of a pretty face.
Besides, is my girl rustic? The indescribable fairy air about her has nothing to do with rusticity. Even if you ignore her face, she doesn't look like a beggar even in rags.
"Then why don't you go out these days?" Fang Tongjian discussed with the child, "Everything is very complete at home."
Lin Xinghuo smiled, "Are you still worried that I'll get lost?"
"You just said that when you're annoyed, just use the boxing techniques that Old Ning taught me. Don't worry, once I show them my fists, they'll definitely wish they've never met me in their lives." Comrade Xiao Lin swung his braid with some disdain, "It's not that I look down on them, but if they were in the village, they wouldn't even be able to beat Xiao Caiduan. That strength..."
Only the inner city of Beijing is still prosperous these days; farther out, the desolateness is palest, especially in the reed-filled swamplands. Even during the day, the ice still lingers, and anyone walking gets their feet drenched in mud. A couple of days ago, she went to the northwest suburbs to haul mud, and two guys on bicycles, brushing against her cart and then rushing forward and back, got their wheels stuck in the mud. It was a slight slope, and both riders and bikes slid down with it. The larger one was decisive, shouting "swampland!" as he abandoned his bike and climbed up. The shorter one, reluctant to let go of his bike, was so visibly red-eyed... Lin Xinghuo dug mud from the bottom of the slope, and then had to pull the two men up with a full load of mud—they desperately tugged at her cart before finally managing to pull their bikes up.
The mud wasn't even up to her calves, but even Wang Huzi's daughter wasn't afraid. The two of them had even lost one of their big-toed leather shoes, and they were too embarrassed to say things like, "Can you pull the cart?" or "Call me brother, I'll help you pull the cart!" They just grabbed a handful of grass and rubbed the mud off the cart, then walked away dejected. Thinking back, Lin Xinghuo realized that the tall man looked like the one whose tweed coat had been hit by a broken tile. It seemed like that tweed coat had disappeared after that muddy trip... But she only had a fleeting thought and then let it go. Lin Xinghuo didn't bother to remember what those people looked like. If it weren't for the really good material of the tweed coat, she wouldn't have remembered it either.
Her learning made the old man laugh so hard, but Fang Tongjian still kept talking for a while, using his "insights into people" to tell Lin Xinghuo not to be careless and rely on her abilities.
Lin Xinghuo pondered for a moment, if he followed what Master Fang said, he would have to keep a distance from someone no matter how well he knew them, and then it would take eight or ten years to figure out whether they were human or ghost... Isn't this a contradiction? Even if he had known someone for twenty years, what could he know if he kept a distance from them?
The old man himself had never been married or in love in his life, and when he mixed the love experience he had heard with his own assumptions, everything got messed up. Fang Tongjian shut up mid-sentence. What the hell was he talking about! Was he trying to find a good partner for his child, or let him wait ten or eight years before finding a partner?
Every parent has probably experienced this dilemma: on the one hand, they worry about wasting their time and not being able to find a good partner, but on the other hand, they genuinely feel like they're still a child, and they're worried and reluctant to let go. When no one is looking for a choice, they get anxious, but when someone is, they find fault with everything...
Lin Xinghuo didn't have that intention yet, so she told the old man not to worry about it. Not to mention that she was eighteen this year, she felt that there was no rush even if she was eighty... If she really found a partner, the petty-minded Anian at home would make a big fuss.
Why did she suddenly think of Mau Anian? Lin Xinghuo touched her chest, thinking that maybe it was because they hadn't been apart for so long that she was a little homesick. It was true, when it came to knowing someone intimately, whether they were human or ghost, after looking through the people and spirit beasts around him, Mau Anian was the one who best fit the old man's theory. Mau Anian might seem spoiled and petty, but he was undeniably reliable and loyal.
Speak of the devil, and he will appear. Uncle Mao was right. Although he hadn't come in person, the "messenger" he had sent had arrived. That evening, Lin Xinghuo saw Qingji, who had grown about two inches taller, appear in the east wing, pulling a small wooden cart.
Had Qingji grown taller? His yellow robe had also become a bit brighter. It was obvious that the caracal had re-refined it for him. Under the yellow light of the bulb, it had turned into a reddish-yellow color, more and more similar to the record of "the emperor's yellow robe."
Qingji bowed respectfully and presented the letter from the caracal with both hands.
Ever since Grandpa Maou became obsessed with refining tools and gave Lin Xinghuo half of his gourd furnace, writing has become easy for him. He can create pens with his own fur, and they can move as he wishes. The second-tier talisman pen he re-refined for Lin Xinghuo, with enough spiritual energy, can actually draw even the lowest-tier talismans. While it still only produces one type of amulet, amulets are the most practical!
Lin Xinghuo unfolded the letter while thinking about all sorts of things. There was nothing else in the letter except telling her that Qingji could pass messages back and forth in the future. He also briefly mentioned the situation of the children and the monsters at home. He didn't say anything about himself, but just slapped a red hairy paw print at the end of the letter.
The letter wasn't long, and Lin Xinghuo read it in a few quick glances. She stroked the furry paw prints, then raised her head to entertain Qingji. From her storage bag, she pulled out a tea set she had carved from spirit wood. The miniature teacups were clearly meant for Qingji. The teapot didn't contain tea, but spirit dew, collected from spirit fruits and flowers, a favorite of spirits.
Qingji felt a bit reserved yet also a bit happy. After a bowl of tea, he adjusted his hat, pulled his cart forward, and pulled out a fresh fish. The fish was still very much alive, its tail slapping against Qingji's leg. Qingji clapped his hands, and Lin Xinghuo saw that the nails on his five fingers had grown half an inch, a kind of orange-yellow color. He pricked the fish, and it stopped moving.
"...still alive, very fresh." Qingji held it to Lin Xinghuo with both hands. Lin Xinghuo knew that he was born with the ability to shrink the captured aquatic creatures. His small car, which was not much bigger than a matchbox, could hold prey that was hundreds or thousands of times larger.
But this sturgeon, which was more than one meter long, still surprised Lin Xinghuo. How long had it been since she left, and how could Qingji's abilities have improved so much?
Qingji, feeling somewhat apologetic, told Lin Xinghuo that while he still couldn't travel a thousand miles a day, five or six hundred miles was no problem. His cart was also bigger, allowing him to bring Lin Xinghuo the freshest fish. Once his bloodline became purer, the cart would be able to carry more than just aquatic creatures, and perhaps one day it would even be able to carry Lin Xinghuo home.
Ancient spirits rely more heavily on bloodlines than spirit beasts. The purer and more advanced their bloodline, the greater their abilities. This is another path of cultivation, cultivating bloodlines rather than realms. This is the so-called "hairy calf gives birth to Yinglong, Yinglong gives birth to Jianma, Jianma gives birth to Qilin, Qilin gives birth to common beasts, and all hairy creatures are born from common beasts." When a spirit's bloodline is purified to the utmost, it can achieve breakthroughs.
Although Qingji was humanoid, his nature was that of a beast. As his bloodline improved, his talent for "galloping" became even stronger. Later, he could even invite other people or spirit beasts to ride in his carriage. If he could find a pony or spirit to accompany him, he could "travel a thousand miles in a single day," meaning he could travel a thousand miles in a single day, or even faster.
The caracal's letter also showed off the fox cubs' abilities, especially Big Fox. The caracal used a whole sentence to praise Lin Beiguo's ability: it can use the first-level magic "Spring Breeze and Rain"!
Lin Xinghuo's mind raced, and she immediately thought of the Jinglian. "Are the Jinglian seeds ripe?" The Jinglian was a low-level spiritual plant, a descendant of the Heavenly Grade Treasure Qingshuizhi. Its fragrance could cleanse evil spirits, and its seeds were even more potent in purifying blood. She still remembered the wild outburst of demons when the spirits first encountered the Jinglian a few years ago. Some were stunned, some bursting into tears, some going mad... Qingji was one of those who burst into tears of surprise.
Holding the small cup, Qingji nodded immediately, happily extending his hand and making a "yeah" gesture, saying that the village chief had given him two! A Jinglian lotus pedestal can produce up to eight lotus seeds, and Ah Nian gave him two at once. The moved little man hugged the mao's thigh and cried for a long time.
Jinglian seeds are indeed rare. Lin Xinghuo had dedicated most of his power and influence to that little spiritual lotus over the past few years, not to mention the spirits' unwavering care and favoritism. Jinglian, having leapt from the high-grade Huang-level to the profound Huang-level, successfully ascended a level, becoming a low-grade Xuan-level spiritual plant. However, growth slowed after the upgrade. Even with the power and influence that can accelerate spiritual plant growth, it still took a year for this lotus seed to mature. Furthermore, the two previous lotus seeds failed to germinate, so they had to be distributed by the caracals before their spiritual energy dissipated.
Back then, he'd obtained five semi-spiritual lotus seeds from Black Sable's former master, Dirty Beard. He'd given half to Black Sable, one to the caracal and one to the little foxes. Lin Xinghuo had planted one, leaving two. Lin Xinghuo had tried to cultivate the remaining two, indeed nurturing them with spiritual energy for over a month. But what he'd grown wasn't a Pure Lotus, not even a first-tier spiritual plant; it was only a semi-spiritual flower. However, it was incredibly vigorous, and soon a large lotus had grown, covering half of Mirror Lake. The lotus roots were large, white, and delicious, whether eaten raw or stewed.
It was even more popular with Ah Nian than peaches. Lin Xinghuo had tried several times to cultivate it into a spiritual plant, but the rarest spiritual plant was the spiritual lotus, and she hadn't succeeded before leaving Beijing.
"A-Nian and the Medicine Beast used petals from the Jinglian lotus to nourish a lotus plant in Mirror Lake... and it became a first-level Jade Lotus." Qingji gestured happily, completely forgetting the caracal's words to him: 'A-Nian wants to eat the Jade Lotus.' The caracal had gone to such great lengths just to secretly urge Lin Xinghuo back. After all, only with her power and influence could she eat the Jade Lotus sooner?
But Lin Xinghuo and Qingji's focus had long since shifted. Qingji told Lin Xinghuo how white the Jade Lotus's petals were, how large the lotus leaves were, how clever Ah Nian was, and how the Medicine Beast had lost weight... Lin Xinghuo also found it quite amusing: the petals of the Pure Lotus, which purifies the spirit, weren't white, but redder than fire; yet this Jade Lotus, which had broken through with the help of the Pure Lotus, was pure white as jade, and those spiritual lotus seeds must have been bred on the same lotus pedestal...
Even if Qingji loved to gallop, it would have taken at least four or five days to get from Buxiantun to Jingshi. Remember, Qingji didn't have a pony to pull his cart; he had been pulling the wooden cart himself. Lin Xinghuo couldn't bear to let the yellow-robed villain continue his journey, so he excused himself by saying his reply was too long to finish and told him to rest here for two days before leaving.
The next day, just as the young guard outside came on duty, Lin Xinghuo gently knocked on the gate from inside, indicating that she wanted to go out: Fang Tongjian was a weak and sallow-faced intellectual, and the cultural group had assigned him work, so the guards were not strict, and there was not someone on duty around the clock. After dark, as long as the small courtyard was locked from the outside, the guards could go off work.
Now that the weather was cold, Fang Tongjian often told the guards to lock the door in the afternoon, so that the young men would go home early to avoid freezing in the drafty vents when the sun went down. As a result, the young men who took turns on duty got along very well with the old man.
Lin Xinghuo went out this time and bought half a plate of tofu from the supply and marketing cooperative with his coupons. He then traded his pork coupons for three crucian carp, each a foot long. It was not yet seven o'clock when he returned.
This time, the coal stove was set aside in favor of the large stove. This stove, built by Lin Xinghuo himself, had two burners, one large and one small. The large one held a large pot, the small one a kettle that could hold two thermoses of water. Normally, the stove was sealed for heating, using only the residual heat to warm a pot of washing water. Hot water for drinking was also heated and poured into a thermos while the coals were being lit.
The thermos and kettle were both carried all the way from Buxian Village. They were unassuming, but certainly worked well. But the large pot perched atop the stove took Lin Xinghuo quite a bit of effort. First, he knocked on the door of the neighborhood supply and marketing cooperative, using the name of the brigade and a letter of introduction as a salesperson, to promote Buxian Mountain Pine Wine. Fortunately, the wine was good, having gained a bit of a reputation in the capital of Xue Province over the past two years. This caught the attention of the supply and marketing cooperative's leaders, who offered him a chance to try it... Being from Beijing, they were quite ambitious. After two days of waiting, they finally called the public phone at the alley entrance and asked Lin Xinghuo to come over to discuss things.
Even a small measure has its shortcomings. Lin Xinghuo wasn't cut out for business, but she had a keen eye, and the slightest change in expression on ordinary people wouldn't escape her notice. And with Wei Layue's previous hands-on guidance and advice, she managed to secure Buxianshan Pine Wine's first sale outside the province. Furthermore, she negotiated a high price of 1.5 yuan for a jar of pine wine, with a retail price of 1.9 yuan. While this was far lower than Maotai's factory price of 2.5 yuan and 4 yuan a bottle, the price for the wine in the provincial capital was only 1.3 yuan, a full 20 cents more expensive in Beijing. The neighborhood supply and marketing cooperative even offered to help connect with department stores and other related businesses if the quality of the wine could be guaranteed...
After reaching an agreement with the street supply and marketing cooperative, the road to a strange place suddenly became easier. After going through such a long journey, Lin Xinghuo finally got a big iron pot.
Now the aroma coming from this big iron pot made everyone in the whole alley feel uneasy. The entrance of this small courtyard house, which had a guard on duty and was shunned by the neighbors, suddenly became lively, and this time it was not those restless young men who came, but well-dressed neighbors.
The small sanheyuan's location is excellent, and it's fair to say the entire long, deep alley boasts a prime location. Bustling streets flank the hutong, yet the interior is largely populated by small, intricate sanheyuan and siheyuan houses. Not only does it offer tranquility amidst the hustle and bustle, but these courtyards are also mostly inhabited by small families. Unlike another area two streets away, where a single siheyuan with three entrances could easily squeeze in thirty families, forcing a family of three to occupy only the side rooms, leaving the seven or eight larger siheyuans in ruins.
It was easy to guess what kind of families lived in this alley. The guard at the western entrance was a proper security guard, armed with a rifle—perhaps only Old Ning at Hetan Farm would receive that kind of treatment after his return to Beijing. Even Lin Xinghuo was puzzled that these people would be drawn out by a pot of fish soup.
But she obviously underestimated the extent to which people were starving for oil and water in those days. Even an eighth-level worker with a salary of over 100 yuan only had a meat ticket for one and a half kilograms a month. This one and a half kilograms of meat had to be refined into oil, and what you actually tasted was just the taste of meat - not much better than taking a few deep breaths of the fragrance coming from the courtyard.
Adults are like this, let alone children. Most adults who deliberately pass by the gate of the Sanheyuan are dragged by their children. Adults are somewhat taboo and afraid of getting involved in any trouble.
Lin Xinghuo brought out a bowl of fish stewed with tofu for the young man on guard duty. Seeing everyone's eyes instantly turn to the steaming bowl, she couldn't help but curl her lips. She'd seen the commotion with her spiritual sense the moment she heard it, and she'd deliberately served the fish stewed with tofu to open things up for the old man. It wasn't until Lin Qiyun's visit that she realized the Cultural Affairs Department hadn't prohibited Mr. Fang from entertaining old friends; they'd simply temporarily stopped him from moving freely.
Fang Tongjian had been sent down to the countryside early, and the discipline at the cadre school farm where he initially stayed was exceptionally strict, even mail and belongings were meticulously inspected. After a close friend was caught with inappropriate language in a letter to him, Fang Tongjian had voluntarily severed contact with the capital. Although he had heard some news over the years, he had no idea of their specific circumstances or addresses. He couldn't directly seek them out, nor could he easily spread the news that Fang Tongjian had returned to Beijing to "recuperate," so he had to resort to a crude method.
At the door, several little kids were so overwhelmed by the delicious food that they couldn't even walk, unconsciously sticking their fingers into their mouths and slurping. Lin Xinghuo handed the bowl to another guard who wasn't on duty and brought out a basin of white fish soup. He scooped a small bowl and handed it to the youngest girl with pigtails. The young mother holding her hand blushed with embarrassment and quickly waved her hand away, saying she couldn't have any. She didn't know what had happened, but the smell had unknowingly drawn her to the doorstep.
"It's just a matter of adding two more buckets of water." Lin Xinghuo whispered, "It's not worth anything."
The mother, dressed in a neat military uniform and with neatly cropped hair, glanced at her drooling daughter and blushed as she thanked her repeatedly before accepting the wooden bowl. After walking a few steps away from the front door, she half-knelt, lifted the little girl onto her left lap with one hand, and then, holding her, let her lean over the edge of the bowl to sip the soup.
After she squatted, everyone got a clearer look at the bowl of milky-white fish soup. Seeing the little girl take a sip, blinking and letting out an "Ah!" was even more delightful. Meanwhile, the other children were even more greedy. A few seven or eight-year-olds, who were already being dragged away by adults, were now rooted to the ground, unwilling to move.
Although the little girl is young, she is very polite. She uses her tender little voice to quickly thank Lin Xinghuo, the new "aunt". She praises it with words like "It tastes good" and "It tastes better than... malted milk!" every time she takes a sip.
The other children who were about to be forcibly dragged away by their parents had tears in their eyes. There are very few parents in this world who are willing to make their children cry so early in the morning, especially those who can't bear to see such aggrieved tears...
Lin Xinghuo took a stack of wooden bowls and distributed them only to the children. The bowls were indeed mostly filled with fish soup, with at most a piece or two of tofu. Some of the brazen ones took the "add two more scoops of water" offer seriously and quickly accepted the bowls without refusing. But those who knew the situation well knew that the fish in the pot had probably melted into the soup, and with such excellent cooking, even with meat coupons at state-owned restaurants, you might not be able to get such good soup—and who would be willing to use meat coupons to buy fish?
In fact, it wasn't just about skill. Even if the bones of the three small crucian carp Lin Xinghuo bought were melted, they still wouldn't produce this kind of soup. Lin Xinghuo simply added a palm-sized piece of spiritual sturgeon meat to the crucian carp and tofu soup, and used a sheep bone from the yew spiritual material container in his storage bag as a base. Using the power of the candle dragon gall, he managed to create a pot of incredibly fresh fish soup in such a short time.
When the little kid drinks soup, the adults can always pick up some from the bottom of the bowl. It doesn't matter if they taste it once. Everyone feels that it's not unreasonable for the girl to do such a shameful thing today. This girl must be the descendant of an imperial chef, right?
The embarrassed adults exchanged a few pleasantries with Lin Xinghuo, who then naturally passed on the news that "Grandpa's surname is Fang, and he's back in Beijing recuperating." Those who were interested in making a few inquiries soon learned who the old man was. Although the old man's problems remained unresolved, the assignment he'd taken on was a valuable one: a creative project to present to the leader on next National Day! As long as the script went smoothly, Fang Tongjian would surely see a comeback after next year. People simply believed that everything related to the leader was good... And so, after that day, the once deserted courtyard house began to liven up a little, as the descendants of Fang Tongjian's old friends began to visit upon hearing the news.
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The author has something to say: There should be a small chapter later~