560: Chapter 560 Mortals are a mirror; only today do I realize who I am.

Qin Wangchuan stood at the doorway, watching Zhou Heng's back recede bit by bit, until he turned the corner of the alley and disappeared from sight.

The White Deer had risen at some point, pacing to his side, also looking in that direction.

After a long while, it suddenly spoke.

"Among Mortals, Zhou Heng is already a rare, good seed."

"If he can truly return alive, he will surely accomplish something in the future."

It paused, then added:

"But if compared to Sir—"

"He is still far off."

Hearing this, Qin Wangchuan chuckled and looked down at it.

"Trying to flatter me in a roundabout way won't get you any benefits."

"No." The White Deer shook its head.

"I simply feel that Sir is out of place in this world."

It paused, as if weighing its words.

"I once heard a phrase: a crane standing among a flock of chickens."

"It refers to a crane standing amidst a group of chickens, looking a head taller than them no matter how you look at it."

"At first, I thought Sir was perhaps this kind of person."

"But looking now."

"This phrase is not worthy of Sir."

These words fell into Qin Wangchuan's heart, causing ripples to spread.

He had guessed the purpose of the Mortal trial long ago.

But hearing it from the White Deer now, new thoughts sprouted in his heart.

In his previous world, he was a Mortal.

After coming to this world, that had not changed, only that he had better luck, a better family background, and greater strength than others.

Qin Wangchuan had never felt he was special.

Until he fell into this pile of Mortals, living with them day and night.

Only then, for the first time, did he see himself reflected.

It turned out that, unknowingly, he had already walked so far.

So far that even he himself had not noticed.

When exactly did it begin?

Was it after that tenth-birthday banquet?

Was it when he fought a fierce battle with his sixth brother?

Or was it the moment he was formally crowned with the title of God-Child?

Qin Wangchuan thought for a moment, but ultimately shook his head, deciding not to dwell on it.

"No matter where I am, I am me."

"That is enough."

With that thought settled.

Qin Wangchuan withdrew his gaze from the alley entrance and turned to walk back.

Walking to the jujube tree, he paused, looking up at the tree full of green fruit.

"Good child, there are sweet jujubes to eat."

"If you have spirit, you will know what to do."

The branches and leaves of the jujube tree shook.

A green jujube on the branch turned deep red at the sound, falling from the branch.

Qin Wangchuan raised his hand to catch it, then passed it to the White Deer.

"For you."

"Thank you, Sir." The White Deer did not refuse.

It had been thinking about the taste of this thing for more than a day.

It opened its mouth to take the red jujube from Qin Wangchuan's palm, but did not rush to eat it.

Instead, it placed it on the ground and bowed respectfully to the jujube tree.

In its view, since this tree could understand human speech and produce fruit according to its will, it must have cultivated spiritual intelligence just like itself.

Since they were of the same kind.

Having received someone else's fruit, there was no reason not to thank them.

The jujube tree seemed to accept this bow, and its branches and leaves shook again.

Immediately after, another red jujube fell down.

The White Deer took the jujube in its mouth and lay back under the tree, its teeth gently closing.

It bit into it crisply, the juices spreading on its tongue, a clear sweetness wrapped in an indescribable fragrance.

The next instant.

A faint glimmer appeared on its snow-white body, seeping out from deep within its fur, swirling around it once, then slowly sinking back into its body.

The White Deer trembled all over.

It clearly felt that the cultivation within its body was genuinely rising.

This one bite was worth several years of bitter cultivation in the past!

Delicious! Good stuff!

The White Deer's eyes brightened, and then it swallowed the remaining half, jujube and pit included.

After swallowing, its gaze stuck to the other jujube on the ground.

This one... it was actually reluctant to eat it.

It was also at this moment.

"Make way—make way—"

The voice arrived before the person.

The half-open courtyard gate was kicked open, and Qin Zhaoer walked in swaggeringly with a tray, having no eyes for anyone else, heading straight for the stone table in the front yard.

She placed the tray heavily on the stone table.

"Dinner is served!"

Two bowls of hot noodles were steaming, with two plump white buns on the side.

Qin Zhaoer placed the tray on the stone table, put her hands on her hips, and lifted her chin.

"Look closely."

"This meal today is this Young Miss's masterpiece!"

Qin Wangchuan did not answer, only reaching out to gather the medical books spread on the stone table, moving them to a clean spot to avoid splashing soup on them.

Before he could finish, Qin Zhaoer couldn't wait any longer; she grabbed her chopsticks and took a big slurp.

She had been full of pride, waiting to be praised.

But after chewing twice, her lifted chin froze in mid-air.

The smile on her face also collapsed bit by bit.

"...Hmm?"

"This taste, why is it not quite right."

"That old man, surely he didn't deceive me?"

"Old man?" Qin Wangchuan was just lifting his chopsticks.

Speaking of old men related to noodles in this town, there was only one.

"You went to ask Uncle Lu for advice?"

Qin Zhaoer nodded gloomily.

"Mm."

"But this taste, why is it still not right!"

"Uncle Lu has been making noodles for most of his life." Qin Wangchuan said indifferently, "You've only learned once, how could you succeed already."

He paused, then felt a bit surprised.

"That said, how could he be willing to pass on his cooking skills to you?"

As soon as these words were out, Qin Zhaoer instantly raised her head proudly.

"This Young Miss has her own ways!"

To put it bluntly, it was nothing more than pestering him, plus the pressure of Qin Wangchuan's relationship.

"I used to make noodles because it was simple and convenient."

"But today I calculated and found that cooking rice is even less trouble than making noodles!"

As she spoke, she put down her chopsticks and lifted her chin.

"Tell me, what do you want to eat? This Young Miss will make it for you."

Qin Wangchuan picked up a mouthful of noodles, put it in his mouth, and nodded slightly.

It was much better than the previous few times.

Not soft or mushy, no strange taste, and no hard objects to hurt his teeth.

Hearing her ask, he replied casually.

"Whatever you make, I will eat."

The words were light, and Qin Wangchuan said them casually, lowering his head to pick up another mouthful of noodles.

But falling into Qin Zhaoer's ears, her heart felt as if it had been gently bumped by something.

It was hard to say what kind of feeling it was.

Sour, soft, and a little hot.

She pursed her chopsticks, sitting there blankly.

For some reason, her conversation with Mother Wen suddenly popped into her head.

She asked Mother Wen if she didn't find it annoying to cook for others and serve them all the time.

How could she have no complaints after doing it for so many years?

Mother Wen just smiled at the time.

"There are complaints, and cooking is exhausting."

"But seeing people eat what you've made, that bit of tiredness in your heart becomes worth it."

"You are still young, you don't understand."

"When you grow up later, you will understand."

Worth it?

Qin Zhaoer hadn't taken it to heart at all back then.

Isn't it just cooking a meal, what is worth or not worth it?

At this moment.

Her gaze fell on Qin Wangchuan opposite her.

Knowing full well that these noodles didn't taste as good as those made by Uncle Lu at the entrance of the town, he didn't say anything, eating bite after bite, focused, without frowning once, nor saying a word of complaint.

Watching him, Qin Zhaoer suddenly felt that she seemed to understand a little.

She lowered her eyes, picked up a mouthful of noodles, but didn't put it in her mouth.

She had been very hungry just a moment ago.

Now, for some reason, she suddenly had no appetite at all.

She just stared blankly.

Watching that mouthful of noodles slide bit by bit from her chopsticks and fall back into the bowl.

After a long while.

Qin Zhaoer suddenly blurted out something nonsensical.

"...It tastes so bad."

Qin Wangchuan looked up, feeling a bit confused.

It was clearly something she made herself, why was she disliking it now?

Qin Zhaoer didn't explain, slapped her chopsticks down, and pointed at Qin Wangchuan.

"You wait for me!"

In those eyes, there was an unprecedented seriousness.

"I will definitely make something delicious!"

"By then, I'll feed you so much that you'll want to eat the food I make every day!"

Qin Wangchuan looked at her solemn appearance and smiled softly.

He put down his chopsticks, his expression serious.

"Good."

"I'll wait."

Compared to the quiet peace in Liuxi Town.

On the battlefield thousands of miles away, Fan Yuan was scratching his head in front of the young man, feeling overwhelmed.

Come to think of it, Zhou Heng had indeed sent a letter earlier, saying he was coming over.

But with the war starting these past few days, a thousand things pressed down on him, and Fan Yuan was so busy that he forgot about this completely.

Until he saw this kid standing in front of him, dusty and travel-worn.

Fan Yuan felt as if the sky had collapsed halfway.

How did he really come?!

If something were to happen to him, how would he have the face to see Sir in the future?

But since things had reached this point, and the person was already in front of him, it was too late to say anything.

"Forget it."

He rubbed his brow and instructed in a deep voice.

"For these days, you will stay by my side."

"Don't go anywhere, do you hear me."

Staying by his side meant staying in the safest place in the entire Fuyao Tower.

Swords and guns had no eyes; with his protection, he could at least save this kid's life.

This was the most proper arrangement Fan Yuan could think of.

Who knew.

As soon as he finished speaking.

"No."

Zhou Heng stiffened his neck and refused without even thinking.

"I want to go to the battlefield!"

The others in the tent heard this and exchanged glances, though no one felt surprised.

A young man who hadn't even touched the threshold of a Cultivator wanted to go to the battlefield where Cultivators fought.

Hearing this, it naturally sounded like he didn't know the immensity of heaven and earth.

But in the eyes of the experienced people in this tent, it was nothing more common.

Who hadn't shouted such a thing in their hearts when they were young?

It was just that later, having seen more blade light and having their lives hanging by a thread for too long, that drive was worn away bit by bit.

Now looking at this young man, it was like seeing their former selves from many years ago.