Chapter 1290: when one person attains the Dao, even his chickens and dogs ascend to heaven (1)

Bursting with high spirits when Yang Qing reached Haishi and the rest, he lavished them with gifts, gifts here being an assortment of fruits straight from his abode. After spending enough time around them, he had come to realize that two of his companions were a tad gluttonous: Haishi and their new teammate, Wenling, the natural yin array cicada.

Bolin was more modest when it came to food, but after being around Yang Qing for a while—and with the quality of Yang Qing’s produce—his modest resolve was no longer enough to refuse or restrain himself, especially with the new batch that had grown even more delectable in taste and quality under Ma Yuan’s tender care.

Feeling generous with his lifted spirits, Yang Qing produced a small mound of fruits from his storage ring and let the three spirit beasts have free rein in their pickings. As he expected, despite being the newest member and having little rapport with him, Wenling was the first to pounce on the offer, instantly gorging herself with ravenous focus on the yin-aligned fruits like snow goji berries and frost pearl guavas.

Haishi cast a frustrated glare at the cicada’s pickings, which she quickly moved to conceal. Given her docile nature and the fact that the cicada, despite being smaller than one of her compound lenses, was much more powerful, she could only swallow her frustration.

Years of settling for the leftovers her former “friend,” the green-flowered babirusa, left behind had trained her to quickly adjust her frame of mind. She moved toward the fruits Wenling ignored, and, if she was being honest, she didn’t quite mind these leftovers. Compared to those from the green-flowered babirusa, their taste and quality were miles better, not to mention far more filling.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt like she was actually the winner between the two. She had more to eat and more to choose from. Snorting in smug gratification at being open-minded and not picky about food, Haishi gave Yang Qing a quick nod of gratitude for his generosity before putting the fruit pile to task.

As for Bolin, the most restrained of the three, he cupped his fists toward Yang Qing before picking a bunch of crimson wolfberries and an amethyst-scaled pineapple, then sat down beside him.

“You seem to be in a joyous mood, boss,” he said through the voice transmission bead dangling from his neck like a pendant.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,” admitted Yang Qing with a smile. “Care to share a drink with me?” he added, gently shaking a jar of wine.

“I came here in the hopes that you would,” said Bolin with a wizened, cheeky smile that drew a laugh from Yang Qing, for it was uncharacteristic of the rainbow mist toad to make a joke.

“Let me,” said Bolin politely when he saw Yang Qing about to pour into their cups. Yang Qing smiled, nodded, and handed him the jar. Bolin carefully filled both cups, starting with Yang Qing’s before tending to his own.

“Who would have thought I’d be sharing a drink with a rainbow mist toad,” Yang Qing commented as he raised his cup toward Bolin.

“I sure wouldn’t,” replied Bolin, and the two shared a laugh.

“To the surprise of life,” toasted Yang Qing. Bolin nodded, and together they downed their cups.

“You seem to have made some progress,” Yang Qing remarked as he set his cup down. Bolin’s qi was nearing equilibrium, and his body brimmed with vigor. It wouldn’t be long before he broke through to the eleventh stage of core formation, and perhaps quite possibly, even make an attempt for the peak stage in the same session.

“It’s all thanks to you, Miss Luo Mei, and the Beast Tamer Hall. If I were relying on myself, I don’t think I’d have reached this far,” sighed Bolin as he thought back to his life before that fateful encounter with Feng Xin.

“I really owe Mister Feng Xin a lot,” he added with emotion. That encounter should have ended in his death—or worse, in him being used for experiments—yet fate had taken a complete turn, and he had instead profited from disaster. He, who should have perished either under Feng Xin’s blade or in the maw of some other spirit beast from the Green Fog Region once his strength waned, had been given another shot at life. If things continued as they were, he might even reach the Palace Realm, something he had never dared to imagine for himself.

Gazing at his reflection in the wine cup, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was all real—or if it was merely a hallucination. Perhaps Feng Xin had diced him up that day like the rest, and his lingering spirit, unable to accept death, had crafted this reality as a final illusion to grant him peace.

“You are not dreaming,” said Yang Qing softly, his voice pulling Bolin from the spiral of his thoughts.

“I might as well be,” Bolin replied with a faint smile. “After all, I am sharing drinks with a powerful Palace Realm cultivator.”

“Your bootlicking skills seem to have improved drastically,” said Yang Qing in amusement.

“I had to. I can’t let Haishi outshine me. I still have a face to uphold, you know,” joked Bolin, his playful gaze drifting to the mirage dragonfly, who had hastened her pace of eating the moment she saw Wenling about to finish her yin fruit pile.

Yang Qing smiled, shaking his head at her antics. He and Bolin carried on their conversation, touching on everything from mundane matters like how Bolin was adjusting to his new life at the Order to his experiences in the Green Fog Region, and whether he missed it there.

If it had been before, Bolin would have remained reserved in his responses, saying only what he thought Yang Qing wanted to hear. But whether it was the wine, Yang Qing’s infectious good mood, or the growing familiarity between them, Bolin spoke with honesty.

He admitted he did miss the Green Fog Region. It was all he had ever known, and because of that, he had actually felt freer there than he did at the Order, despite the former having danger lurking in every corner and his life constantly hanging in a precarious balance, while the latter being relatively safe. Yet, what he said at the end resonated with Yang Qing: even though the Order felt foreign to him, and he sometimes longed for his old stomping grounds in the Green Fog Region, not once did he regret being part of the Order.