Chapter 2: The Gift of Congratulations

The outdoor stove was packed with firewood, blazing with roaring flames. In the large iron pot on top, water was boiling furiously. The big white goose lay on the ground beneath the stove, its legs tied, struggling and honking. Liu Xiaolou held its neck with one hand and gripped a kitchen knife with the other. “Big White, "he muttered softly, "don’t blame me for this. If there’s a next life, come back to my family. I’ll raise you again.” He had gone through no small trouble to get that spirit stone... only for the damn goose to snatch it up and eat it. Furious, his master declared there’d be blood today. Just as the kitchen knife was about to come down, the big white goose looked up at Liu Xiaolou with tears falling from its eyes, staring at him with heartbreaking devotion. That one look melted the hard resolve Liu had just built up. He hovered the knife over its neck for a long moment, but no matter how he tried, he just couldn’t bring himself to strike. The goose’s tears kept falling. Finally, Liu Xiaolou collapsed to the ground, defeated. The knife slipped from his hand and clattered against the floor. “Big White… do you have any idea what kind of trouble I’m in because of that spirit stone…” he muttered. “I haven’t earned a drop of spiritual energy in three whole months. Even Dongyang Sect won’t take me in…” “It’s not like you haven’t eaten spirit stones before. What’s the point, huh? What good did it ever do you…” “And this one wasn’t even for me. It was supposed to be a gift for Brother Wei, understand? A gift! I couldn’t even bear to use it myself…” “Who knows where that old man found you. You’re useless, can’t do chores, couldn’t cultivate into a spirit beast even if your life depended on it… After all these years, and you’re still just a fat lump…” “All you ever do is steal things…” He kept grumbling, but in the end, he untied the rope around the goose’s legs and let it go. It flapped its wings wildly and ran off. “Go on then! Don’t come back! Just looking at you pisses me off!” Liu shouted after it. The goose looked back once, then bolted even farther away, vanishing into the bamboo forest in a flash. The sun was high overhead. Sweat beaded across Liu Xiaolou’s forehead, glistening in the heat. The cicadas in the bamboo grove droned so loudly it made him drowsy. He forced himself to calm down, then dragged himself into the woods to chop off a section of bamboo shoot. He peeled off the outer layer and tossed it straight into the boiling pot on the stove. The spirit stone was gone; there was no getting it back now. Dwelling on it wouldn’t help. Life had to go on. With his cultivation stuck at the second level of Qi Refinement, he couldn’t even dream of practicing fasting techniques. First thing’s first: he needed to eat. As the tender bamboo simmered and bubbled in the pot, the big white goose suddenly burst back out of the woods. It held a fat fish, over a foot long, in its beak. With a few strong flaps, it hopped up onto the stove and dropped the fish into the boiling water. The fish thrashed for a moment, then gave up and floated, cooked. The goose hopped down, turned to Liu Xiaolou, and gave a proud “honk honk,” clearly expecting praise. Liu scowled and kicked at it. “You think one fish makes up for a spirit stone? Get lost!” The goose dodged the kick and flapped off back into the bamboo, vanishing again. Still, there was something useful about keeping the bird around. It often dragged in fresh fish, rabbits, or wild game from the mountains, saving him the trouble of hunting. Kept his stomach full, at least. After a good meal of bamboo shoot and fish soup, Liu Xiaolou’s belly was full. He went back inside, slid the wooden boards under his bed aside, brushed away some dirt, and uncovered a buried wooden box. Inside lay an old ginseng root. Not just any ordinary mountain ginseng, but a three-hundred-year-old spirit ginseng passed down from his late master. Even without refining it into a pill, eating it raw could restore a huge amount of spiritual energy—worth at least three spirit stones, easily. Today was the dual-cultivation grand ceremony of his sworn brother, Wei Hongqing. The original gift had been that spirit stone. But thanks to a surprise visit from Manager Su, he’d left it unattended for one moment, and that damned goose had gulped it down. Who was he supposed to complain to? The old man had left Sanxuan Sect completely stripped bare. If Liu wanted to give a proper gift, all that remained was this last spirit ginseng. Still, it was his sworn brother, who had helped him in so many ways. He couldn’t show up empty-handed on his wedding day. Liu Xiaolou sat with the ginseng in his arms, reluctant to let go, sighing deeply. Even holding it for one more moment felt like a comfort. But as the sky turned orange with the coming sunset, the time of the banquet finally arrived. He had no choice. With a heavy heart, he tied a red ribbon around the ginseng for a festive touch, then headed down the mountain. Wei Hongqing was cultivating at Ghostdream Cliff, just under an hour’s walk from Qianzhu Ridge. By the time Liu Xiaolou arrived, the sun was already sinking behind the mountains. Feeling guilty for being late to his brother’s dual cultivation ceremony, he quickened his pace up the cliffside. At the top was a stone cave: Wei Hongqing’s dwelling. Cultivators in Wulong Mountain who lived outside of the big sects usually kept things simple: either thatched huts or bare caves. Their homes were sparsely furnished and had little of value. That way, if a major sect came to sweep them out, they could run quickly and without regret. But today was special. Wei Hongqing had gone to the trouble of decorating the cliffside outside the cave. Red silk ribbons and lanterns hung across the rocks, and three tables were set up, already covered in food and wine. Wei Hongqing didn’t have many close friends among the mountain’s cultivators; Liu Xiaolou had heard he’d only invited six people. Counting a few elders and family from his new partner’s side, there were just twelve seats in total. And Liu was the first to arrive. Wei Hongqing was sipping alone at the head table. Liu Xiaolou approached with a smile, took a seat beside him. Wei Hongqing poured him a cup without a word, and he drank it down in one go. Then, he pulled out the spirit ginseng, put it on the table, and pushed it over with a face full of pain. “My old master dug this spirit ginseng up from Mount Shouyang. It’s three hundred years old. Today’s your big day, so just take it; don’t even think about refusing.” Wei hadn’t even thought of refusing. He took the ginseng, examined it for a moment. Then, without warning, took a huge bite out of it. “Wait, no—” Liu Xiaolou reached out instinctively to stop him, but stopped himself mid-motion. He’d already given it as a gift. What could he do now? Holding back his heartbreak, he muttered, “That’s not how you’re supposed to eat it... Would’ve been perfect soaked in wine... You’re ruining it... And your bride isn’t even here yet. She hasn’t even seen it. Ah....just stop already…” Wei Hongqing had already eaten several bites. His face flushed red. Even with his fifth-level Qi Refinement cultivation, several times stronger than Liu Xiaolou’s, the pure spiritual energy in that ginseng was overwhelming. It nearly choked him. Once he managed to recover a bit, Liu Xiaolou cast a heartbroken glance at the half-eaten root. “Seriously, stop eating it. At least save the rest for your wife. Let her see it, or she’ll think I came just for the food…” He looked around the empty cave and untouched tables. “When’s the bridal party arriving? Where’s Left Valley Owner and the others; how come no one else is here?” Wei Hongqing’s eyes were red. He stared at him in silence. “What’s wrong, Brother Wei? Hey....say something.” “Ling’er’s not coming…” “What?” “The Xia family canceled the engagement...” Liu Xiaolou froze. Then he exploded. “What?! They can’t do that! I’ll go find them right now—!” “She’s marrying into the Zhanglong Sect," Wei Hongqing cut him off, sorrow in his voice.  "She’s going to be a concubine... for Zang Qianli, one of their inner disciples.” Liu fell silent instantly. So much for mutual love and promises. Zhanglong Sect was a major force in western Xiang. Their territory, Dragonshine Mountain, was a blessed land. Zang Qianli, an inner disciple, had a limitless future ahead. Even if Ling’er became just a concubine, it was still far better than marrying a rogue cultivator scraping by on Wulong Mountain. No wonder the Xia family changed their minds. All Liu Xiaolou could do was murmur comfort. “Brother Wei, such a grave insult won’t be forgotten. Us brothers stand together. This year, I’ll make a pact with fellow cultivators on the mountain; when autumn harvest comes, none of us are going to help that family anymore.” Wei Hongqing patted his hand in gratitude. Liu looked around again. “So... what about Left Valley Owner and the rest? They’re not coming to… the banquet?” Wei Hongqing gave a bitter smile. “There’s no wedding. So what banquet would there even be? And if there’s no banquet, why would they come?” Liu Xiaolou didn’t know what else to say. He simply stayed and drank with Wei in silence. The saying goes: wine doesn’t get you drunk; sorrow does. They drank for a long time. Liu Xiaolou still held his liquor, but Wei Hongqing was already slumped over. Right before he passed out, he burst into sobs. “Xiaolou… go home. Don’t worry about your older brother anymore.  Just let me… be alone for a while…”