Teacher by day, Farmer by passion

Chapter 17 Killing one's father.

Ace studied Shan Yifeng's eager expression before shaking his head.

"Becoming a disciple isn't something you decide on a whim, Yifeng. Go get your parents' permission first. If they agree, then we'll talk."

Shan Yifeng's face fell slightly. "But—"

"No buts." Ace cut him off, his tone firm but not unkind.

"A master-disciple relationship is a commitment, not just a title you can claim because you feel like it. Go home, ask your parents, and if they approve, I'll consider it."

Liu Mei smirked at Yifeng's deflated look. "See? Master is different from a teacher."

Yifeng clicked his tongue in frustration but didn't argue. "Fine. I'll ask them later."

Ace nodded in approval before clapping his hands together. "Alright, enough of that. Today's lesson is on swords."

Liu Mei's eyes lit up with excitement, while Yifeng straightened, his frustration momentarily forgotten.

Ace led them to the courtyard, where a simple wooden rack held three training swords. He picked one up and tossed it toward Yifeng, who caught it with ease, then handed another to Liu Mei.

The final one, he spun lazily in his hand before pointing it at them.

"First, let's talk about form. A sword is an extension of your body, not just a weapon you swing around. If you treat it like a stick, you'll fight like a fool."

Yifeng nodded seriously, gripping his sword tightly. Liu Mei, on the other hand, held hers awkwardly, shifting her fingers to find a comfortable grip.

Ace sighed.

"Mei'er, loosen your hold. Holding it too tight will make your swings stiff." He stepped behind her and adjusted her grip.

"See? Let the weight of the sword guide your movements, don't fight against it."

Liu Mei gave a small nod, concentrating.

Ace turned to Yifeng. "You seem familiar with a sword. Ever practiced before?"

Yifeng grinned. "A little. My brother let me swing one around a few times."

"Good. Then let's see if you can back up that confidence."

Ace took a stance, raising his sword in a lazy yet practiced manner. "Try to land a hit on me. Both of you."

Yifeng's grin widened, while Liu Mei gulped. The lesson had just begun.

....

....

The sword training continued for a few more hours until exhaustion finally caught up with them.

Well, at least for Ace and Shan Yifeng.

Liu Mei, having reached Silver Rank, possessed a much stronger soul force, allowing her to keep going without breaking a sweat.

Meanwhile, Ace—despite being their teacher—found himself struggling to keep up.

He missed his brother, too.

So he told himself that going to class wasn't wrong. That bringing apples home made up for it. That he wasn't being selfish.

Even though the guilt never went away.

Forcing a grin, Yifeng held out the peeled apple.

"Here, Dad! You gotta eat a lot, okay? I'm gonna cook today! I know how to make rice—I've watched Mom do it!"

Shan Erbi chuckled weakly. His ten-year-old son cooking? That was a disaster waiting to happen.

Before he could say anything, a bright voice called out, "Uncle! How are you?"

Liu Mei skipped inside, grinning.

Shan Erbi blinked. Yifeng groaned.

"Why are you here?!" he whispered harshly.

Liu Mei beamed.

"I followed you!"

"Go home!"

"Nope!"

Yifeng gave up and stomped to the kitchen.

There, he grabbed the bottle of Spirit Milk from his bundle and poured it into a pot to boil.

Liu Mei peeked over his shoulder.

"Ooooh, whatcha doing?"

"Making milk for my dad," Yifeng muttered.

Liu Mei's face scrunched up. "Are you trying to kill him?"

Yifeng froze. "Huh?! What are you talking about?!"

Liu Mei pointed at the steaming pot. "That's Spirit Milk! It's super strong! If your dad drinks it, BOOM! He could explode!"

Yifeng's eyes went wide. "Wha—WHAT?!"

"Yep!" Liu Mei nodded seriously.

"Normal people can't drink that! Only cultivators like us!"

Yifeng felt his stomach drop. He hadn't even thought about that.

Liu Mei grabbed his wrist. "Come on! We need to get my mom! Grown-ups know what to do!"

Yifeng hesitated, then nodded quickly. "Right! Let's go!"

The two of them bolted out the door, running as fast as their legs could carry them.