Chapter 49: Five Spirits Mountain, Senior Brother

Cen Song rapped the little boy on the head. "Don’t bully your junior disciple. Ruyan, this is your senior, Zimo."

“Greetings, Senior Brother,” Chu Junhan said politely with a respectful gesture.

The little boy snorted, paid no more attention to Chu Junhan, and tugged Cen Song toward the kitchen. “Teacher, while you were away, Mo’er nearly starved to skin and bones. Mo’er wants to eat your cooking right now.”

“All right, all right, I’ll cook something for you,” Cen Song replied, abandoning his usual otherworldly manner for the kindly air of a doting grandfather. “But you should start learning household chores. When I go out in the future, I’ll be relying on you to look after your junior.”

Chu Junhan, left standing awkwardly to the side, couldn’t help but sweat. Starved to skin and bones? This little boy lied without blinking—he reeked of roasted meat.

The thatched cottage had only three rooms: one served as a woodshed and kitchen; another, filled with books and a single bed, was clearly Cen Song’s own; the last was for the two disciples to share.

That night, Zimo wept, fussed, and threw a tantrum, but still couldn’t escape the fate of sharing a bed with Chu Junhan.

He sat on the bed, cheeks puffed out in anger, arms crossed over his chest. “This is my bed. You’re not allowed to sleep here!”

Having trekked through the mountains all day, Chu Junhan had no patience for his unreasonable antics. She closed the door behind her and headed straight for the bed.

She could hardly wait to collapse and enjoy a good night’s sleep.

But fate had other plans.

Just as she neared the bed, the little boy raised his fist, ready to strike.

“You know martial arts?” Chu Junhan exclaimed in surprise. Though she dodged the blow, the force of it still brushed her cheek.

Zimo snorted, returning to the bed with a triumphant look. Arms crossed again, he lifted his chin smugly. “If you know how tough I am, you’d better stay away from my bed. Sleep wherever you like—I don’t want to share with a sissy.”

“Who are you calling sissy?” Chu Junhan might not know martial arts, but her military training was nothing to scoff at. Grabbing the chair nearby, she swung it at the little boy.

She wasn’t really angry, but if she couldn’t sleep, then neither could he. So, she charged forward with the stool. A fight? Was she supposed to be afraid of a brat like him?

With a bang, the wooden chair crashed down on the bed, shattering instantly beneath the blow.

“Hey, hey, are you serious?” The boy rolled nimbly out of the way as the chair landed where he’d just been, his face pale with fright.

That was close—just a bit more and he’d have ended up in pieces like that chair.

Chu Junhan lifted her chin. “Admit defeat?”

The little boy glared at her, teeth gritted. “Never!”

At once, the two scuffled, and the tiny house echoed with their racket.

The door creaked open a crack. Moonlight spilled through the gap, illuminating the two figures tangled on the floor—one with an arm locked around the other’s neck, the other poking fingers up a nose, neither willing to let go.

“What are you two doing?” Cen Song burst in, furious, the wrinkles on his face deepening with anger.

“Teacher!” The pair released each other at once, scrambling to their feet, glaring at one another with reddened eyes.

“Who told you to fight?” Cen Song barked sternly.

Both children raised their little hands, pointing at each other in unison. “He started it!”