Chapter Thirty-Three: Bai Kun

Time always flies by.

At noon, he and Jinghua had grilled fish, then slept soundly until dusk.

Night had fallen, and it was time for them to head to the mountaintop.

Thinking about spending the entire night getting beaten, he instantly felt one fish was far too little—at least two or three would have been necessary.

“Why is my fate so bitter? In the next life, I must never be born human again,” he sighed, cradling little Jinghua with his short legs as they set off toward the summit.

It wasn’t that he liked carrying children; he simply felt it was too dangerous for one so young to climb the mountain alone, so he naturally picked him up.

Jinghua nestled contentedly in Gu Zhiheng’s arms, baring his teeth in delight.

When he was younger and still unsteady on his feet, his grandfather never carried him. He never imagined that at four years old, he could still be carried around.

The feeling was just like the grilled fish they had for lunch—utterly satisfying.

“Sir, who’s going to train you tonight? It won’t be my grandfather, will it?” His old man was notorious for targeting vital points with every move.

If the adult and grandfather faced off, whom should he support?

If he helped the adult, would his grandfather call him an unfilial grandson and threaten to throw him off the mountain?

If he sided with his grandfather, would the adult be upset? After all, he’d just enjoyed the fish the adult caught for him at noon and was being carried up the mountain now!

Being a child was truly hard—why must he think about so many things? Wouldn’t it stunt his growth?

Jinghua always felt that thinking so much would shorten his life, so he simply relaxed in Gu Zhiheng’s arms, his eyelids growing heavy.

To be honest, he was naturally lazy and disliked exercise; otherwise, he wouldn’t have grown so plump.

He’d been active with the adult since last night, and even though he’d slept for a few hours, he was still tired.

He was still growing, and a few hours of sleep in the afternoon weren’t nearly enough. Feeling sleepy was only natural.

In the past, with twenty-four hours in a day, he could sleep twelve, which kept him energetic the whole day.

The night air was still a bit chilly. Though Jinghua wasn’t afraid of cold, Gu Zhiheng held him tightly.

Perhaps because he’d been to the summit before, this time he knew the way and moved more quickly.

“We’re here. Rest a bit before we begin!” Bai Kun glanced at Gu Zhiheng carrying the child, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

It turned out that living through several lifetimes changes everything; all was now different.

The former him would never have gently held a mischievous little spirit—merely sparing its life was kindness enough.

But now he was different; what he’d gained must be what people called emotions and humanity.

“Alright, let’s rest a while before we start—best to wait until Jinghua wakes up,” Gu Zhiheng replied. Since the boy wanted to apprentice under him, he had to make sure he knew whether he was qualified to teach him.

“Jinghua? You’ve given this child a name?” Bai Kun was surprised again; Gu Zhiheng really had changed so much.

“Yes. At the very least, he shouldn’t be called ‘little shorty’ like everyone else. That would make him feel inferior,” Gu Zhiheng said with a smile, handing the child to Old Orchid, who was smoking nearby.

Since Jinghua said his grandfather never held him, Gu Zhiheng let him experience family warmth while he was still asleep.

“Be kinder to the child. Children deprived of love in their early years can easily go astray as adults,” he said. He himself had grown up extremely lacking in security and parental affection.

He’d tasted the flavor of kinship only for a few days in twenty-three years, and now, due to his mission, was separated from them once again.

“Sigh, we’re all spirits. It’s not such a big deal,” Old Orchid remarked. After becoming spirits, the path forward was always self-chosen; others hardly cared.

For those on the verge of ascension, there was concern for the descendants’ cultivation, but nothing else mattered.

Everyone who became a spirit and could ascend started as ordinary creatures—the path was determined from the beginning.

But Gu Zhiheng didn’t share this view; he didn’t dwell on Old Orchid’s words but instead walked toward Bai Kun under the tree.

Bai Kun, father of Bai Tangxi—the formidable white-haired ape—was much sharper than his son, not just the muscle-bound fool that Bai Tangxi was.

“Kid, you know I’m the strength type, so tonight we’ll stick to hand-to-hand combat!” Bai Kun said. Above all, he believed in physical prowess.

Not only should the soul be tough and cultivation deep, but the body must match it.

So, facing Gu Zhiheng, who looked like a sickly invalid, Bai Kun felt it was crucial for him to first build physical strength; otherwise, nothing else would matter.

“Raise your arms higher. Punch fast, accurate, and fierce—your goal must be clear, every strike a hit!” Bai Kun instructed sternly.

He sparred with Gu Zhiheng while giving guidance, hoping it would be effective.

“Your footing’s unstable—throwing a punch like that, you’ll send yourself flying!” With a slap, Bai Kun struck Gu Zhiheng’s head.

Gu Zhiheng felt aggrieved; no matter how strong his yang energy, long years spent with ghosts and spirits took their toll.

“Who told you to rely on your feet alone? Don’t you have legs? Your waist lacks strength—use it!” Bai Kun, every bit the master, taught with great seriousness.

“Can’t you keep your arms level with your shoulders? After all these years, still no foundation? Channel your power to every key point!” Bai Kun shouted, feeling Gu Zhiheng grew more foolish with each reincarnation.

Awakened by Bai Kun’s yelling, Jinghua stared in confusion at the adult being scolded and the dark-faced Grandpa Bai, sensing tonight would be entertaining.

He nestled further into his grandfather’s arms, leaning on his arm as he watched the two practice, and couldn’t help but mimic their moves.

“Come, let me show you what fast, accurate, and fierce really mean—what true strength is,” Bai Kun said. He still struggled to accept Ye Zheng’s transformation into Gu Zhiheng, so he lost patience and got serious.

The force of his punches whistled past Gu Zhiheng’s face, a testament to his strength.

Gu Zhiheng began to concentrate, trying to block Bai Kun’s blows, attempting to intercept every punch.

At first, his reactions were sluggish and he kept getting hit, but gradually he started to discern patterns in Bai Kun’s attacks.

After half an hour, he’d been pummeled countless times, his whole body aching as if it were falling apart.

After an hour, he could dodge half of the punches and even catch a few.

After two hours, Bai Kun threw a vicious straight punch at Gu Zhiheng’s face. When the fist was still three inches away, Gu Zhiheng managed to counterattack.

He not only dodged the punch but perfectly struck Bai Kun’s shoulder. Three and a half hours in, he finally showed progress.

“Exceptional comprehension—not surprising for you. Rest a bit before we continue, I’m exhausted,” Bai Kun said, collapsing onto the ground and finally relaxing.