Even Taking Apprentices Has Become Involution

In the blink of an eye, several days had passed.

At the foot of the mountain, the village echoed with the crowing of roosters as the morning sun rose. Yi Feng opened his eyes, pushed open the door, and stretched lazily to greet the new day.

"Haah..."

After a final, satisfying yawn, he breathed in the crisp morning air, feeling invigorated and full of energy.

The past few days had been exhausting in his quest to seek death, leaving little room for relaxation. But now, basking in the morning sunlight as he strolled through the small farmyard, it felt reminiscent of the leisurely days of old—familiar and nostalgic.

Unconsciously, Yi Feng’s mood lightened.

With a smile, he glanced around.

The door across from him was wide open, and the old man was clearly already up and about. After scanning the area, he spotted Fu Nantian bustling in and out several times, full of vigor. There were no signs of injury, nor any of his previous erratic behavior.

Relieved, Yi Feng began stretching his limbs as he wandered around the yard.

Having stayed here for a few days, he had grown familiar with the small farmhouse. He leisurely sat down at the stone table in the courtyard, admiring the flowers bathed in the morning light while listening to the lively sounds of the village—chickens clucking, birds chirping, and laughter carrying in the distance.

In such an environment, all his worries were momentarily forgotten. A cluster of roses in the yard was just beginning to bloom, their buds seemingly inviting anyone to pluck them.

Taking in the beautiful sight, Yi Feng’s mood improved even further.

Though the old man could be eccentric at times, he had a certain flair—planting flowers and greenery, even roses, which gave off a somewhat secretive, romantic vibe.

The faint, unique fragrance wafting through the air piqued Yi Feng’s curiosity.

Just as he was about to step closer for a better look, another enticing aroma drifted his way—the rich, mouthwatering scent of food. His stomach growled in protest.

Following the smell, he finally discovered Fu Nantian busy in the kitchen.

Peeking through the doorway, Yi Feng froze in surprise.

Inside, by the stove, the white-haired old man looked as rough as ever, yet he wore an apron embroidered with delicate floral and avian patterns, appearing both meticulous and professional.

At first glance, he could almost pass for a dedicated homemaker.

The contrast between his rugged appearance and his actions was so striking that anyone else would have burst out laughing. But Fu Nantian remained completely at ease, humming a tune as he focused on cooking, seemingly oblivious to Yi Feng’s presence.

He looked as if he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Could it be… this old man was a master chef?

Driven by curiosity, Yi Feng watched intently.

With a series of swift movements, Fu Nantian sent pots and pans flying, and in no time, several vegetarian dishes were ready—each exquisitely plated with intricate garnishes.

Both the speed and presentation were nothing short of extraordinary.

This level of skill surpassed ninety percent of chefs.

Yi Feng couldn’t help but marvel inwardly, thinking, Never judge a book by its cover.

Just as he was about to step in to offer praise—and maybe sneak a taste—Fu Nantian suddenly launched into another display of culinary prowess.

Tossing several eggs into the air with one hand and wielding a ladle with the other, a few crisp cracks later, the shells were separated, and the egg whites and yolks landed perfectly in the boiling iron pot.

Then, the old man’s demeanor shifted dramatically. With gentle, almost reverent motions, he stirred the eggs and boiling water, as if coaxing them to dance.

Less than half an incense stick’s time later, two perfectly heart-shaped poached eggs floated in the massive pot.

Holy cow, it’s like a rural spin-off of Cooking Master Boy!

Yi Feng was thoroughly impressed.

Sure, he could cook too—his beef noodles were cheap and satisfying.

But pulling off heart-shaped poached eggs in a giant iron pot with such flair? That was beyond him.

This level of skill required at least a decade of practice.

Unable to hold back his admiration, Yi Feng called out,

"Old man, I never knew you had this kind of talent! Impressive!"

Fu Nantian turned his head at the sound but didn’t respond.

Not even Yi Feng’s praise could break his concentration. With practiced efficiency, he packed the dishes into an elegant food container, removed his apron, tidied up briefly, and then dashed off in a hurry.

Left standing there, Yi Feng watched in bewilderment as the old man scurried away.

"Wait… that wasn’t for me?"

"What are you being so secretive about?"

Yi Feng shouted after him, but Fu Nantian ignored him completely, jogging off without a backward glance.

Seeing that the old man had already disappeared, Yi Feng shrugged and let it go.

Turning back to the kitchen, he spotted a few eggs and a bunch of leeks.

Amused, he decided to put his own cooking skills to use. Soon, a hearty and delicious farm-style dish was ready—simple, nutritious, and hygienic.

After the meal, a cup of tea was the perfect way to unwind.

Sitting leisurely in the yard, Yi Feng felt utterly content. Sipping the fragrant tea, he embodied the very image of a carefree retiree, completely at ease in body and mind.

After a while, the scent of roses drew him back.

Curious, he approached for a closer look.

The petals were translucent and delicate, not yet fully bloomed but already captivating. He couldn’t resist reaching out to touch them.

Just as his fingers neared the flower—

"STOP!"

A booming voice echoed through the courtyard.

Yi Feng turned to see Fu Nantian standing there, clutching the food container, his beard bristling with indignation.

Seriously?

No food, and now he couldn’t even touch the flowers?

Was this any way to treat his savior?

Annoyed, Yi Feng defiantly reached out again.

Whoosh!

In a flash, the old man appeared beside him, swatting Yi Feng’s hand away with a look of sheer desperation.

"Kid, you are not touching these flowers, no matter what!"

Seeing Fu Nantian’s near-hysterical expression, Yi Feng reluctantly gave up.

"Fine."

It was just a rose. No big deal.

He wasn’t even that into flowers—just curious.

With a shrug, Yi Feng clasped his hands behind his back and strolled out of the yard, heading to the village entrance to chat with the locals and bask in the sun. He fully embraced the slow-paced rural life, channeling his inner retiree.

Watching from a distance, Fu Nantian let out a long sigh of relief, his mind finally at ease.

Four full days had passed since his return from the Ancient Corridor, and he had spent that time analyzing his failures. Now, he understood completely.

Yi Feng’s luck was simply too extraordinary. Rushing the matter of taking him as a disciple would be a mistake.

As long as they stayed in the village, Fu Nantian would eventually figure out the kid’s temperament and preferences. Then, success would be inevitable!

Just as Fu Nantian steeled his resolve, a voice transmitted via spiritual sense reached him.

Frowning slightly, he made his way to the village entrance.

A group of elderly men and one middle-aged woman stood waiting, their expressions tinged with impatience.

"Fu Nantian, what’s so special about this precious disciple of yours?"

"Ever since he arrived, we’ve had to suppress our auras to avoid startling him. Such treatment is rare even across the entire Cloud Star!"

"Is he really worth all this fuss?"

"I’ve spoken with him too—he seems utterly unremarkable. And he’s not even your disciple yet. Why the special treatment?"

"Exactly. I don’t see anything extraordinary about him either."

Fu Nantian stood calmly, hands behind his back, a faint smile on his face.

"It’s nothing. He really is quite ordinary."

But inwardly, he was laughing triumphantly.

What others couldn’t see, he knew all too well.

Though Yi Feng hadn’t displayed any extraordinary traits, Fu Nantian had personally divined his fate—a limitless destiny, with potential so vast it was terrifying!

A seedling like this? Of course he wouldn’t let others catch on.

To be on the safe side, Fu Nantian suppressed the smugness in his heart and continued to lay down a smokescreen.

"Gentlemen, that young man and I simply share similar temperaments—nothing more. If there’s nothing else, this old man will take his leave now."

The others didn’t respond, merely watching as Fu Nantian strode away with his hands clasped behind his back.

It almost seemed as if they had truly been fooled by his words.

But these men had known each other for years—how could Fu Nantian’s nature and tactics escape their notice?

Once the surroundings were free of any other presence, the group quietly gathered, their eyes gleaming with shrewdness.

"In my opinion, this matter defies common sense," one elder spoke up.

"Exactly. Fu Nantian has always been cunning—why would he take on a useless disciple?"

"I suspect that young man named Yi Feng is anything but ordinary. In fact, he likely possesses remarkable strength, which is why Fu Nantian values him so highly. The old fox just isn’t saying it outright!"

"Precisely. The more secretive he is, the more it proves Yi Feng’s potential!"

"Since none of us have successors to inherit our legacies, why don’t we strike first? Before Fu Nantian officially takes him as a disciple, let’s recruit the boy ourselves!"

"Brilliant idea!"

"Then it’s settled—we’ll each rely on our own methods. Whoever succeeds in taking him as a disciple wins!"

"Agreed!"

"..."

With a few words, the reclusive masters settled the matter and dispersed.

Little did they know, the fierce competition for disciples had already begun.

Happy Labor Day, folks! Hope you all have a great time celebrating!