Chapter 039: My Sworn Sister!

For dinner, Song Ye cooked a bowl of noodles for Song Yan, the little sister he had just acknowledged today. Song Yan handled her chopsticks fairly well and quietly finished the noodles all by herself, even drinking up the broth.

As for where she would sleep that night, Song Ye had already made arrangements. There were two rooms in the backyard—one of which had long been empty and eventually turned into a storage room. Song Ye planned to move all the clutter into the yard, so that room could temporarily become Song Yan’s chamber.

Regarding the issue of child support for this girl, Song Ye had every intention of settling accounts with Qin Xuanxi, that demoness, the next time she returned. Yet, since Qin Xuanxi had feigned ignorance of the girl from the start, she would likely never admit to any connection with Song Yan, nor provide any support. Besides, he had no idea when or even if Qin Xuanxi would return again—it could be years, or perhaps never.

At the hour of Hai, which corresponded to nine o'clock at night in the present world, Song Ye coaxed Song Yan to bed. Worried she might be frightened sleeping alone in the dark, he left a candle burning in her room. Candles were in abundant supply; he often received them as small rewards for completing novice village tasks.

A simple candle: when lit, it dispels darkness.

Leaving Song Yan’s room, Song Ye entered his player space. Today, he had harvested a wealth of experience, rising twenty-three levels in one go—from level forty-five to sixty-eight—and his attributes had soared accordingly.

Naturally, he wanted to test just how much damage he could now inflict. As before, he took up his novice iron sword and unleashed Earth-Shattering Strike upon the wooden training post. Instantly, a new damage value appeared—one hundred and eighty thousand points.

Earlier that morning, his highest damage had been seventy-five thousand; now, it had increased by thirty-three thousand, a remarkable improvement.

Checking the damage chart, the standard for the ninth tier of the Profound Realm was one hundred thousand. Now that he could hit one hundred and eighty thousand, it meant his strength was equivalent to the ninth tier of the Profound Realm.

At this level, he was already eligible to take the Immortal Master’s trial, as the entry requirement was merely the seventh tier of the Profound Realm. According to the chart, the next level after the ninth tier was the first tier of the Void Spirit Realm.

The leap from the ninth tier of the Profound Realm to the first tier of the Void Spirit Realm spanned an entire major realm—a watershed for many cultivators. The damage gap between these two levels was immense: the ninth tier required one hundred thousand, but the Void Spirit Realm demanded two hundred thousand. Throughout history, countless cultivators had tried to cross this barrier, but most failed and faded into obscurity. After all, whether in the world of cultivation or among mortals, the mediocre always outnumbered the exceptional.

Two hundred thousand damage points had become Song Ye’s next target to surpass!

After testing his damage, Song Ye left the player space and retrieved from his game backpack the reward from today’s adventure—a black tree seed.

He’d acquired the black tree seed through the monster pet draw ticket and naturally wondered what sort of creature it might produce. So, he took his novice iron sword, dug a pit in the courtyard, placed the black seed inside, covered it with soil, and watered it lightly. That was that; in a few days, he would see what emerged.

Suddenly, Song Yan stepped out from her room and sat on the threshold, gazing at Song Ye with wide, expectant eyes.

“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep? Afraid to be alone?” Song Ye asked, momentarily forgetting that Song Yan was mute.

He didn’t know that just today, Song Yan had lost her mother; her insomnia was simply longing for her. The newly bonded siblings sat together in silence in the courtyard.

Within half an hour, Song Yan fell asleep right there on the threshold, her small head resting against the door, sleeping deeply. Song Ye gently lifted her, carried her to bed, tucked her in, and quietly closed the door behind him.

Many things had happened today at this little tea stall. Qin Xuanxi had suddenly returned, only to vanish again. Two Immortal Lords and a Demon Lord had staged an extraordinary battle here, and Song Ye had witnessed a clash of powers for the first time.

And in the end, he gained a little sister.

...

Half a month later, in Qiuyu Village,

The black tree seed Song Ye had planted had grown into a small tree. Its trunk and branches were entirely black, bearing no leaves, and only two branches grew out to either side, resembling thick black arms.

It seemed to possess a spirit; whenever Song Ye called it "Blackie," the trunk would bow ninety degrees toward him, as if accepting the name.

Now, Song Ye felt having a tree as a monster pet was not bad at all. It required no attention or feeding—just the occasional watering.

Moreover, he discovered by accident that the tree could hunt for itself. The ends of its two arm-like branches resembled human palms, and in the center of each grew a small red mouth. When mosquitoes flew by, the branches would suddenly extend, snatch the insects, and the tiny red mouths would swallow them whole.

For Song Ye, the little black tree had become a fully automatic, electricity-free mosquito trap. Thanks to it, his little sister Song Yan now slept beautifully at night.

In the past half month, not a single customer had visited the tea stall; only he and Song Yan sat there every day, exchanging silent glances.

Now, half a month later, Song Ye supposed the Five Sect Tournament held at Xuanqing Palace must have concluded; he wondered how the three young disciples from Lan Yue Sect—Duan Ling, Zhou Nongshan, and Chen Huaiyin—had performed, and what results they had achieved.

He was also curious about the southern campaign: whether the Yan Kingdom’s army had reached the capital of the Li Kingdom, whether Li’s defenders could withstand Yan’s fierce assault. Yet he could not know.

Thankfully, today the tea stall finally had a visitor—a familiar face.

Zhang Zixuan stood before the tea stall grinning, “Boss, one bowl of tea and two sesame cakes, please!”

This mischievous girl had likely sneaked over while out shopping from the mountain. Song Ye only sold tea, but to her, he had become a vendor of sesame cakes.

Still, Song Ye was eager to hear news of the outside world from her lips.