Chapter 11: If He Doesn't Feel Awkward, It's Others Who Do

“Stop shaking your legs and squat properly,” a slightly plump young monk stared at Jiang Yan.

Under the blazing sun, Jiang Yan was holding a horse stance, arms stretched straight ahead, with a large bucket of water hanging from his forearms. Beads of sweat, as big as soybeans, slid down his cheeks, and his handsome face was flushed from the heat.

He had been in this position for the time it took to burn a stick of incense. Jiang Yan felt he had reached his absolute limit.

“Heh, brother, why don’t you let me get up and stretch a bit? I feel like I’m about to collapse,” Jiang Yan said, his legs trembling, trying to negotiate.

“Master, Elder Mo, the benefactor Jiang says he can’t hold on any longer,” the honest little monk shouted toward the Bilu Pavilion.

Jiang Yan’s heart quivered: Bitter is the heart, but I won’t say it! Let it all be destroyed!

Where was the promised method to transform spiritual energy? This was nothing but torment!

Besides, shouldn’t cultivation involve some technique or mental method?

Alas, this little monk only knew how to threaten him...

Elder Mo and Master Yu were inside the main hall of Bilu Pavilion, locked in a game of chess. It was their third round of the day; each had won a game before, and this was the decider.

Master Yu was just about to place his piece when his unruly disciple’s shout startled him, causing his hand to slip and place the piece in the wrong spot.

“Old man, once a piece is placed, there’s no taking it back. Looks like I’ve won this round! Ha ha ha ha…” Elder Mo was in high spirits, as radiant as the sunshine.

But whether everyone felt as cheerful was beyond his control.

“Hmph, that unruly disciple, what’s he shouting about? Never mind, bask in your triumph; next time I’ll beat you for eight hundred rounds,” Master Yu grumbled, his beard bristling and eyes glaring.

“Fine, fine, I’m going out to check on my disappointing junior,” Elder Mo strode out energetically.

“I’m coming too, let’s go,” Master Yu followed him outside.

They saw Jiang Yan’s legs quivering, sweat soaking his hair, and the bucket swaying precariously from his arms.

Elder Mo knew Jiang Yan had reached his limit. He scolded, “Hmph! Boy, how can a young man say he can’t keep going?”

Then, glancing at the little monk, he continued, “Do you know that before dawn every day, the disciples of Lingyin Temple are already running to fetch water? Their physical training lasts for two sticks of incense, and after that, they must stand in place for even longer…”

Hearing Elder Mo’s words, the plump monk suddenly felt the morning exercises with his senior brothers were imbued with new meaning. He puffed out his chest with pride.

“Yu Yuan, what were you shouting for? You’re getting more and more unruly,” Master Yu tapped the little monk’s head, huffing.

This plump little monk, though only ten years old, was Master Yu’s youngest disciple, named Yu Yuan.

Jiang Yan struggled to suppress a grin, laughing inwardly: Ha ha ha ha, so the little monk’s name is Yu Yuan! It suits him perfectly. Heh, getting scolded, serves him right!

If anyone could find joy amid hardship, it was Jiang Yan.

Elder Mo shook his head helplessly.

Master Yu spoke up at just the right moment: “All right, all right, Ling Feng, let’s end today’s physical training here. He’s persisted to his limit; that’s already very good. Training must be gradual.”

Jiang Yan shot Master Yu a grateful look. This old man truly was a good person!

“Fine, boy, you can get up. That’s enough for today,” Elder Mo said.

Upon hearing Elder Mo’s words, Jiang Yan immediately set down the bucket, straightened up, kicked his legs out, and kneaded his sore arms.

“Ancestor, does this mean you’ll now teach me the method to transform spiritual energy?” Jiang Yan asked hopefully.

Elder Mo whistled, and Jiang Yan saw once more the parrot with the rainbow-colored feathers.

The little parrot, flying and protesting, cried, “Bad cat, bad cat, bullies the bird, bullies the bird.”

A small white kitten was chasing it, clamped onto a few parrot feathers in its mouth.

Seeing the fierce little white cat and the aggrieved parrot, Jiang Yan couldn’t help but rub his forehead.

He stopped the cat, intending to lecture it, but the kitten turned and showed him its tail, looking pitiful.

Well now—there was a bald patch on the kitten’s tail.

Hissing, Jiang Yan swallowed his words. Better not get involved in a battle between cat and bird…

“Ha ha ha, Xiao Wu, enough mischief. Get ready to head to Yuhua Peak,” Elder Mo said, amused by their antics, showing no favoritism.

At Elder Mo’s words, the parrot shook itself, and a flash of red light transformed it into a large bird before everyone’s eyes.

Wasn’t this the enlarged version of the little parrot? Now it was a majestic, imposing parrot!

Jiang Yan’s mouth opened wide in astonishment. He never imagined the parrot could serve as a mount!

The little white cat, seeing the suddenly huge bird, dropped the feathers from its mouth in shock. It was doomed, oh dear.

The parrot shot a glance at the kitten, arrogantly raising its chin.

Finally, a silly little cat had appeared—shouldn’t it have some fun with it?

Jiang Yan seemed to understand: Oh, so this was a proud, tsundere bird. Clearly, it liked the kitten very much!

“Boy, come here,” Elder Mo beckoned to Jiang Yan.

Jiang Yan hesitated, “Isn’t this… not so good? I doubt it can bear the weight of two grown men.”

He eyed the parrot’s frame—though it had grown much larger, it hardly looked capable of carrying two adults.

He didn’t want to mistreat animals!

“Ha ha ha, you’re quite amusing! Your great-great-great-grandfather could fly his own sword,” Master Yu laughed, teasing Elder Mo.

“Ahem, just trust Xiao Wu,” Elder Mo said to Jiang Yan.

Jiang Yan felt a tad embarrassed, but decided if he didn’t mind, the awkwardness would belong to someone else.

Before he could react, the parrot nudged him onto its back, then soared into the sky like a gust of wind.

“Ahhh—!” Jiang Yan clung desperately to the parrot’s neck, screaming as cold wind rushed into his mouth and his eyes were squinted into a thin line by the wind.

Once man and bird landed atop Yuhua Peak, Jiang Yan immediately jumped down and vomited profusely.

The parrot shrank back to its original size and mocked, “Weakling, weakling.”

Clearly, nothing pleasant ever came from that bird’s mouth. Jiang Yan suddenly had the urge to pluck its feathers.

Elder Mo was already waiting in a cave at the peak.

“Boy, is that all you’ve got? Hurry up and get inside!” Elder Mo’s booming voice echoed. Jiang Yan glared at the parrot, flashed it a middle finger, then quickly strode toward the cave.

The parrot tilted its head, baffled by the gesture, but instinctively knew it was an insult.

As Jiang Yan approached the cave, he saw Elder Mo seated at a stone table, sipping tea. Upon the table lay a blue book.

“Ancestor, what’s that book?” Jiang Yan asked curiously.

“That is ‘The Art of Spiritual Energy Transformation.’ It will teach you how to convert spiritual energy. It’s a basic cultivation manual,” Elder Mo explained.