Yang Guo taught them for three whole days, until his head throbbed.
On the first day, Aniu actually fell asleep while sitting there, his snorts loud and clear.
On the second day, Little Shitou nearly suffocated himself unconscious again.
The third day was slightly better.
Yang Guo was so moved for a moment he wanted to applaud.
His requirement had dropped all the way from "learn breath regulation" to "just don't cultivate yourself to death."
After persisting for two more days, Yang Guo completely gave up.
Forget it. Forcing this kind of thing was useless.
Aniu and Little Shitou really weren't martial arts material.
If he kept forcing them to sit cross-legged and regulate their breathing, they wouldn't develop internal energy anyway.
Yang Guo himself would surely end up driven mad with frustration first.
He decisively switched tactics.
Scrapping internal breath regulation altogether, he shifted to teaching a few moves of the Carefree Stroll passed down by Mu Nianci.
He didn't know the full set himself, so what he could teach was even less.
But Yang Guo hadn't intended to turn them into master martial artists in the jianghu anyway.
He cut out all the fancy flourishes.
He focused strictly on three things: side-stepping, dodging, and breaking free.
Surprisingly, once he switched to this street-survival repertoire, the two of them picked it up remarkably fast.
Aniu was strong and slightly slow to react, but he had a heavy frame on his side.
Yang Guo taught him to use his shoulders like a hammer, side-stepping to close the distance.
Using his momentum, he slammed his shoulder right into an opponent's ribs, which could knock the breath straight out of them on the spot.
Little Shitou was young, short, and light, with bones like a slippery eel.
He could zip right past under someone's armpit, stomping hard on their ankle in the process.
In the muddy ground outside the ruined temple, the two kids ended up covered in mud, tumbling into a messy heap.
Yang Guo leaned against the broken doorframe, chewing on a stalk of grass, and nodded in satisfaction.
The techniques of some jianghu sects emphasized elegance and agility.
But for beggars trying to make a living, being able to slip away alive from under a blade was the finest divine art under heaven.
...
On this day, Aniu and Little Shitou went out early.
Yang Guo channeled his energy to force out the poison as usual.
The Nine Yang true qi in his dantian flowed slowly through his limbs and bones, wisps of white steam rising from the top of his head.
Two shichen passed.
Yang Guo finished his technique and opened his eyes. His previously pale, sallow cheeks now carried a healthy flush.
The pitch-black mark at his elbow had been forced down another half-inch by his internal energy.
He didn't even have time to stand up and stretch his numb ankles.
From the dirt path outside the temple door came a rush of heavy, panting footsteps.
Before anyone even showed their face, a rich aroma blew through the draft and struck Yang Guo right in the nostrils.
The next instant, two figures drenched in sweat burst through the door.
Aniu was tightly clutching two large lotus leaves in his arms.
When he pulled back the leaves, a glossy roast goose with crispy skin and tender meat lay revealed inside.
Beside it rested a whole piping-hot beggar's chicken!
Droplets of oil sizzled and trickled down the goose's tail.
Little Shitou followed right behind, cradling an oil-paper package like a treasure.
Inside were six neat, snow-white meat buns as big as fists.
Rich gravy soaked through the dough, glistening with an appetizing sheen of oil.
Gulp.
Yang Guo swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing.
But an instant later, his face sank, his eyebrows knitting tightly together.
He pointed at the dripping roast goose and snapped at them right away:
"Did having a bit of money turn your heads? You actually dared run off to Tianxiang Restaurant to order such lavish dishes?"
"What kind of fortune do we have that allows us to squander like this?"
"Fifty taels might sound like a lot."
"But we still have a long way ahead of us."
"Are we going to eat this one meal and go back to begging in the streets in a few days?"
Aniu didn't talk back; his grin stretched almost from ear to ear.
Little Shitou wore an even more shameless, goofy grin as he set the meat buns firmly on the dilapidated altar.
Aniu pointed at the roast goose and said:
"Yang Guo, did you forget what day it is today?"
Yang Guo rubbed his chin, pondering in all seriousness:
"What day? The seven-day anniversary of me getting hit by an Ice Soul Silver Needle?"
"Or did you two finally master the Carefree Stroll Palm and set up a banquet to thank your master?"
Little Shitou shook his head.
He reached into a cloth bag inside his shirt.
Carefully, he pulled out an item wrapped in oil paper.
Unwrapping the paper revealed a peach-shaped birthday bun that had been slightly squished out of shape.
At the tip of the steamed bun was a small, dried, faded dab of red rouge.
Little Shitou sniffled and said softly:
"Yang Guo, did the poison make you stupid?"
"Today is your thirteenth birthday!"
Yang Guo froze where he stood, his scolding instantly dying in his throat.
Holding the longevity peach bun, Little Shitou said:
"You said before that your mother passed away on this day, so you don't like celebrating your birthday."
"But Brother Aniu was talking with me last night about how back when we fought for food on the streets, you were always the one taking all the fists and clubs at the very front."
"We didn't beg for much money back then."
"If we had three copper coins, we wished we could split them into six to spend."
"Now we finally have some silver."
"We can't just carry on like before."
"We have to give you a proper birthday celebration."
Aniu nodded and said:
"That's right, Yang Guo! None of the three of us have a father or mother."
"But that doesn't mean we have nobody."
"The three of us together..."
"...aren't we a family?"
In his past life, his parents had been the only ones who remembered his birthday, and nobody else.
Cake, candles, a lavish meal.
Back then, he took for granted that those things would be there every year, never thinking much of them.
But coming to this world, even getting a hot meal meant having to watch other people's expressions first.
After Mu Nianci passed away, things like birthdays...
...Yang Guo couldn't even be bothered to remember them himself.
He even felt that forgetting was better.
Why remember? To remind himself he was down another family member?
Yet these two guys in front of him actually remembered.
And it was just an offhand comment he had dropped who knows when.
Yang Guo stared at the crooked, squished longevity peach bun with its dab of red.
His eyelids twitched violently.
He spun around abruptly, turning his back to the two of them.
He slammed both hands hard against the cold, rough earthen wall.
Tears poured uncontrollably, huge drops crashing down onto the dusty ground.
He had been in this world for barely thirteen years.
The times he had cried could be counted on just two fingers.
The first time was the night Mu Nianci closed her eyes and passed away.
The second time was right now.
Setting down the food, Aniu and Little Shitou saw Yang Guo with his back turned, his shoulders trembling.
Aniu strode forward two steps:
"Yang Guo, what's wrong? Is your arm hurting again?"
Hearing footsteps, Yang Guo reached back and wiped his face hard with his sleeve.
When he turned around, his eyes were slightly red, but his mouth remained as stubborn as iron:
"It's nothing."
"I just channeled my energy to force out poison for too long, so my eyes are a bit sore."
Little Shitou leaned in, cocking his head as he spoke:
"Forcing out poison..."
"...can actually force tears out?"
"I think you're just crying."
"We ran across half of Jiaxing City to buy everything you like to eat. What are you crying for?"
Grinning, Yang Guo raised his hand and flicked Little Shitou right on the forehead:
"Which of your dog eyes saw me crying?"
"Besides, did you really buy everything I like?"
"Aren't these meat buns the ones you drool over and talk about in your sleep every single night?"
Little Shitou grimaced, rubbing his forehead. The three of them exchanged glances, and a burst of hearty laughter suddenly rang through the ruined temple.
Rate on N.U.
