The next morning, the Li household woke up to tragedy.
Specifically—the tragedy of a hen.
Li Yanxu had just finished washing his face when he heard an unfamiliar sound drifting in from the yard.
It was not clucking.
It was… whimpering.
That alone should have set off alarm bells.
He stepped outside and froze.
In the middle of the courtyard stood Song An, now a three-year-old ger who should have been delicate, soft-spoken, and fond of flowers.
Should have.
Instead, Song An had one small foot planted firmly on the ground, one hand gripping a very unfortunate hen, and the other hand busily plucking its feathers with great focus.
Tuft.
Tuft.
Tuft.
The hen looked at Li Yanxu with wide, pleading eyes.
Even worse—Song An had gently but efficiently pinched the hen's beak shut so it couldn't peck him.
A seasoned professional.
Li Yanxu inhaled sharply.
"…Song An," he said carefully. "What are you doing?"
"I'm playing," Song An replied sweetly.
The hen made a muffled noise that sounded suspiciously like liar.
Li Yanxu moved quickly.
He scooped Song An up in one smooth motion, rescuing the hen from further humiliation. The hen flapped wildly, then immediately calmed down once it was free, hopping onto the fence and staring at Li Yanxu with what could only be described as gratitude.
Li Yanxu nodded solemnly at it. "Go. Live well."
The hen clucked once and fled.
He turned back to Song An, who was dangling in his arms, cheeks round and innocent, as if he had not just committed poultry-related crimes.
Li Yanxu reached out and pinched the boy's cheeks gently.
"Listen to uncle," he said seriously. "Animals can't speak. If you bully them, they can't complain. That's not fair."
Song An pouted, cheeks squished into a dramatic expression of injustice. "I wasn't bullying. I was playing."
Li Yanxu sighed.
"Next time, play with something that doesn't bleed feathers."
Song An thought about it.
"…Okay."
At that moment, the front gate creaked open.
Li Yanya returned with a basket of vegetables slung over her arm. She took in the scene—the ger brother holding her ger child, both of them looking remarkably similar in posture and expression.
Lazy.
Chill.
Nonchalant.
Her heart sank.
She stood there for a moment, imagining the future.
Two gers.
Both allergic to ambition.
Both fond of sleeping.
Who was going to survive this cultivation world?
"…Yanxu," she said slowly.
"Yes, elder sister?"
She stared at Song An, then at him. "Promise me something."
Li Yanxu's instincts screamed danger. "That depends."
"If one day the world ends," Li Yanya said gravely, "you will at least run."
Li Yanxu considered it. "Can I run later?"
Li Yanya clenched her fist.
Dinner that night was unusually lively.
Because Li Yanxu cooked.
This was rare enough to be considered a minor festival.
The table filled with fragrant dishes—steamed vegetables, rice, soup, and a perfectly roasted chicken, golden and crisp.
Song Zhi, now five years old, stared at the chicken as if beholding a sacred artifact.
He reached out, picked up a piece, pressed it gently to his cheek, and whispered, "I missed you."
The entire family froze.
Li Yanli, who had just returned from the city, slowly turned his head. "…What?"
Song Zhi looked up innocently. "I missed roasted chicken."
Li Yanya stared at him. "Then say that."
Li Yanxu nodded seriously. "We don't kiss our food."
Song Zhi blinked. "Why not?"
"…Because it's dead," Li Yanxu replied.
Song Zhi looked traumatized.
After dinner, the sun dipped low, painting the sky in warm hues. Li Yanxu washed the dishes, dried his hands, and cleared his throat.
"Second brother. Elder sister."
Li Yanli and Li Yanya looked up.
"Come to my room," Li Yanxu said. "Family meeting."
Their expressions instantly grew serious.
Li Yanya cracked her knuckles. Li Yanli straightened his robe.
They followed him inside.
Li Yanxu closed the door.
Then sat down on the bed.
"…I have something to tell you."
Li Yanya crossed her arms. "You finally decided to cultivate?"
"No."
Li Yanli sighed.
"But," Li Yanxu continued, "I might know things."
"…What kind of things?" Li Yanli asked cautiously.
Li Yanxu smiled.
"World-shaking things."
Outside, the hen clucked nervously.
--
-
Li Yanxu cleared his throat.
Both siblings stared at him with the kind of seriousness usually reserved for ancestral tablets or people about to confess murder.
"…So," Li Yanxu began carefully, sitting cross-legged on his bed, "what I'm about to say may sound a little unbelievable."
Li Yanya cracked her knuckles.
Li Yanli folded his hands calmly. "We grew up with you. Nothing surprises us anymore."
Li Yanxu felt oddly offended by that.
"Alright," he said. "I've been having the same dream for three years."
Li Yanya immediately relaxed. "Ah. So it is an illness."
"It's not an illness!" Li Yanxu snapped. "Listen first!"
He described the spirit space.
The gate.
The endless treasures.
The cultivation manuals stacked like cabbages.
The spirit stones that had started forming landscapes.
The floating golden words.
The Heavenly Dao.
The gossip.
He left out the middle finger. Some things were better kept private.
Silence descended.
Very slowly—
Li Yanli inhaled sharply.
Li Yanya hissed.
Then—
Smack.
Smack.
They pinched each other.
"Ow!"
"You felt that?"
"Yes!"
They stared at each other, then back at Li Yanxu.
"You're serious?" Li Yanli asked.
Li Yanxu nodded. "I swear on my manuscript drafts."
Li Yanya sucked in a breath. "That's… extremely serious."
Li Yanli rubbed his temples. "Yanxu. Do you know what this means?"
"Yes," Li Yanxu said solemnly. "It means I can finally write realistic cultivation novels."
Li Yanli paused. "…We will address your priorities later."
Without another word, Li Yanxu reached under his bed.
He pulled out two cloth bags and placed them on the table.
Then, with great ceremony, he placed two small pill bottles beside them.
Clink.
"These," he said, "are medicinal herbs and pills."
Li Yanya's eyes sharpened. "Grade?"
Li Yanxu scratched his cheek. "Uh… divine?"
Li Yanli choked.
Li Yanya grabbed the bag like it might explode. "Divine?"
"Don't eat them casually," Li Yanxu said hastily. "You soak in a medicinal bath for fifteen days. It'll open all thirty-six meridians."
Silence.
Then—
"…Thirty-six?" Li Yanli repeated faintly.
"That's all of them," Li Yanya whispered.
Li Yanxu nodded. "Yes."
The siblings looked at the bags.
Then slowly looked back at him.
"…Where's yours?" Li Yanli asked.
Li Yanxu smiled sheepishly. "I'll cultivate later."
The temperature in the room dropped several degrees.
Li Yanya's glare sharpened to something lethal.
"You have divine inheritances," she said slowly, "and you're telling us you'll cultivate later?"
"I'm very busy," Li Yanxu protested. "I have writing deadlines."
Li Yanli stood up.
Li Yanya stood up.
They advanced.
Li Yanxu immediately backed away until his spine hit the wall.
"No," Li Yanya said. "Absolutely not."
"You will open your meridians," Li Yanli added gently. "Whether you cultivate seriously or not can be discussed later."
Li Yanxu tried to negotiate. "How about… next year?"
Li Yanya smiled.
It was the smile she used before breaking people's bones.
Li Yanxu surrendered.
"…Fine."
He reached back into the void space.
Another bag appeared.
Then another pill bottle.
He placed them down reluctantly, as if placing his soul on the table.
Li Yanya snatched them immediately. "I'll keep these."
"Why?" Li Yanxu yelped.
"So you don't hide them," she said calmly. "I'll supervise."
Li Yanxu looked to Li Yanli for help.
Li Yanli nodded sympathetically. "I support elder sister."
Traitors.
Li Yanya examined the herbs carefully, nodding in approval. "Good. We'll start tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?!" Li Yanxu squeaked.
"You've delayed three years," she said. "One more day is unacceptable."
Li Yanxu slumped dramatically onto the bed. "My peaceful life…"
Li Yanya ignored him and continued. "We should also open the children's meridians."
Li Yanxu nearly rolled off the bed. "What?"
"Song Zhi and Song An," she said. "If this opportunity exists, we use it."
Li Yanli frowned. "They're too young."
"They're my children," Li Yanya snapped. "They're strong."
"They're five and three," Li Yanli replied calmly. "Their bodies can't handle full meridian opening."
Li Yanya hesitated.
Li Yanxu seized the chance. "Yes! Listen to second brother! Children should grow naturally! Slowly! Lazily!"
Li Yanya glared at him. "You don't get a vote."
Li Yanli continued, "Seven years old. That's the safest age."
Li Yanya considered it.
Her fingers twitched.
After a long moment, she exhaled sharply. "Fine."
Li Yanxu sagged in relief.
Then froze.
"Wait," he said slowly. "Did I just agree to all of this?"
"Yes," both siblings said in unison.
The meeting ended with Li Yanxu being escorted out of his own room.
That night, he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling.
"…I should've stayed asleep," he muttered.
Deep within his spirit, the space hummed happily.
The Heavenly Dao approved.
Very much so.