Is Everyone Else's Eldest Disciple Like This? | Chapter 67 | Fish on the Chopping Block | Novela.app

Ming Zhu felt the occasional glances from Ming Zhao and Zhou Mingzhong prickling his scalp. He shuddered and instinctively leaned closer to Zhou Fuxue, whispering, "Is that your father?" Zhou Fuxue gave a soft "mm" in affirmation. "He looks decent enough," Ming Zhu remarked, "so why doesn't he act like a human being?" Zhou Fuxue: "..." However, Ming Zhu wasn't wrong. Despite Zhou Fuxue being his own flesh and blood, Zhou Mingzhong had discarded him like a worn-out shoe the moment he realized the boy lacked spiritual meridians. For years, he had remained indifferent. He likely even knew that Ming Zhao had sent the boy to serve as a sword sheath. Thinking of it this way, Zhou Mingzhong seemed even less of a decent person. Seeing Zhou Fuxue’s speechless expression, Ming Zhu suddenly realized his mistake. No matter what, the man was still the boy's father; it wasn't right for an outsider to insult him to his face. He said dryly, "S-sorry, I didn't mean it like that... I was just... talking nonsense..." Zhou Fuxue lowered his eyes and said calmly, "I know." For the next hour, neither of them spoke. Not far away, Guining and the others continued to discuss something in low voices, their gazes drifting toward Ming Zhu from time to time, giving him an instinctive sense of dread. It wasn't until Master Guining dispelled the barrier that Ming Zhu bolted over. He crouched beside Guining, clutching his waist, and whispered, "Master, what on earth were you talking about? Can your disciple leave now?" Seeing his son so clingy toward an outsider, Ming Zhao seemed a bit disgruntled. He said with a fake smile, "Son, we were discussing the marriage between you and Fuxue. If I may ask, when you two are together, who’s on top and who’s on the bottom?" Ming Zhu: "..." Zhou Fuxue: "..." Ming Zhu stared at Ming Zhao with wide eyes. It took him a long moment to process the words before he stammered in disbelief, "You... you..." He was shaking so hard from shock that he couldn't finish his sentence. Master Guining gently patted his head and said with a half-smile, "Ming Zhao, if you say one more word, you’re paying for the wine today." The penniless Ming Zhao immediately made a "my lips are sealed" gesture, not daring to speak further. Ming Zhu finally snapped out of it, his face turning ashen. He grabbed the paper-wrapped rock candy in his hand and showered Ming Zhao with them like a heavenly maiden scattering flowers, then turned and fled. Seeing this, Zhou Fuxue bid the group a polite farewell and followed him with a helpless sigh. Ming Zhao didn't mind being pelted with candy. Instead, he gathered the scattered pieces from the table into a pile, pinched a few, and stuffed them into his mouth. "Mmm," he mumbled to Guining, "Guining, considering I nearly broke my legs running here for this meeting, buy me a bag of candy later, will you? Just like this rock candy." Guining didn't even want to look at him. He turned and walked away. Ming Zhao scrambled to follow. "Hey, hey! Don't go! Did you pay for the wine?" *** On the other side, Ming Zhu stomped out of the narrow alley. The sky had completely darkened, but the crowds on the main street had not thinned. Instead, night market stalls had cropped up. Warm lanterns hung every few paces along the road, illuminating the entire street as bright as day—it was even livelier than the afternoon. Zhou Fuxue followed at a short distance, saying softly, "Senior Brother, slow down. Be careful not to bump into anyone." Ming Zhu turned to glare at him. "It's all your fault." If Zhou Fuxue hadn't lost his mind and committed such an offensive act, Ming Zhao wouldn't have used that nonsense to tease him. Zhou Fuxue said helplessly, "Yes, it's my fault. Please forgive me, Senior Brother." Ming Zhu snapped, "I won't!" A moment later, Ming Zhu was holding a bamboo skewer with two fragrant, crispy grilled yellow croakers. He ate until his eyes crinkled with delight, saying indistinctly, "Fine, fine. Since you treated me to yellow croakers, I'll forgive you this once." Zhou Fuxue was truly at a loss for words. "As long as Senior Brother is happy." The yellow croakers were barely the length of a palm, their bones and fins fried to a golden crisp, so there was no need to worry about choking. Ming Zhu became instantly addicted. He simply squatted by the stall and refused to leave, staring longingly at the pile of fish as if he were about to drool. Zhou Fuxue advised, "Senior Brother, eating too much isn't good for your throat. Let's come back tomorrow." Ming Zhu ignored him. He reached into Zhou Fuxue’s robes, rummaged around, and pulled out a handful of silver scraps. He bought a whole pile of yellow croakers to carry back for his younger martial brothers and sisters. Ming Zhu walked through the night market with a satisfied heart, squandering Zhou Fuxue’s money everywhere. It wasn't until Zhou Fuxue’s arms were overflowing with food and trinkets that Ming Zhu turned back in confusion. "Why did you bring so much money out? I can't even spend it all." Zhou Fuxue: "..." *Just because I brought it doesn't mean it has to be spent. Where did this spendthrift come from?* Zhou Fuxue used his toe to kick a paper parcel that was about to fall, catching it back onto the pile of clutter in his arms. He didn't seem annoyed by the ordeal. He said calmly, "The sheath for the Wuxin Sword was given to me by Fifth Senior Brother years ago, but it's been worn down beyond recognition. I came out this time intending to buy a sheath that suits my liking." Except he hadn't bought a sheath; instead, Ming Zhu had squandered every last bit of his money. Ming Zhu gave an "oh," looked down to count the remaining silver in his hand, and then suddenly looked up with a brilliant, flower-like smile. "Congratulations! Now you can't even afford a sword tassel!" Zhou Fuxue: "..." *And whose fault is that?* Ming Zhu showed no remorse whatsoever. He laughed and slapped Zhou Fuxue on the shoulder, babbling a string of nonsense. Zhou Fuxue listened closely and realized the boy was gloating over his misfortune. He truly had no idea where Ming Zhu found the nerve to be so smug. *** It wasn't until midnight that the two finally wandered back to the inn where they were staying. Master Guining loved peace and quiet and disliked being disturbed, so he had booked the entire inn. Aside from the people of Rizhao, there were almost no outsiders. As soon as Ming Zhu stepped into the lobby, he saw Zhou Mingzhong—who had arrived at some unknown time—sitting on a central bench. Opposite him sat several Rizhao juniors, speaking to him with great respect. Among them was Shen Hongchuan. Ming Zhu’s pupils constricted. He lunged forward like a bolt of lightning, yanking Shen Hongchuan up and shielding him behind his back, staring at Zhou Mingzhong with intense wariness. Everyone was startled by his actions and looked at him in shock. Zhou Mingzhong sat lazily on the bench, his elbow on the table and his cheek resting in his palm. His eyes were half-lidded, looking as though he might fall asleep at any moment. To others, he looked like an ordinary man devoid of killing intent. But in Ming Zhu’s eyes, the man’s lethargic posture was like a sharp blade about to be unsheathed; it would take only one move to end Shen Hongchuan’s life. Ming Zhu’s shoulders trembled as he stood before Shen Hongchuan, glaring at Zhou Mingzhong like a cornered beast. Zhou Mingzhong remained unmoved by this display of wariness. Instead, he let out a lazy yawn, the corners of his eyes tinged with red. Shang Yanfeng stood up, frowning at Ming Zhu’s combative stance. He stepped forward tentatively. "First Senior Brother, you..." Before he could touch Ming Zhu, his hand was violently slapped away. Ming Zhu shielded Shen Hongchuan and backed away several steps, his voice unsteady. "Don't... don't any of you touch him..." Shen Hongchuan was utterly bewildered. He gently placed a hand on Ming Zhu’s trembling shoulder and whispered, "Senior Brother? What’s wrong?" Ming Zhu’s lips quivered, but he couldn't say a word. At that moment, Zhou Mingzhong finally looked up. He spared Ming Zhu a lazy glance and said tonelessly, "Relax. I won't touch him for now. You don't need to be so afraid of me." Ming Zhu didn't believe him, but he also knew he was no match for Zhou Mingzhong. He turned to grab Shen Hongchuan’s hand, but his terror was so great that it took him two tries to catch it. He gripped Shen Hongchuan’s wrist tightly and practically dragged him upstairs, leaving the other disciples to stare at each other in confusion. Once inside the room, Ming Zhu slammed the door shut and leaned against it, gasping for breath as cold sweat poured down his face. Shen Hongchuan sensed that something was wrong. He reached out cautiously. "Senior Brother?" The moment he called out, Ming Zhu seemed to snap out of a nightmare. He roared at him, "Are you insane?! Why on earth would you go near him? This inn is so big—why did you have to sit right across from him? Shen Hongchuan! Are you crazy? Tell me, do you have a death wish?!" As the tirade rained down on him, Shen Hongchuan remained lost, having no idea what had happened. But seeing Ming Zhu scold him until his own eyes turned red, his doubts vanished. He began to coax him with practiced ease, "Alright, alright, Senior Brother. I'm sorry, it’s Hongchuan’s fault. I promise I’ll never go near him again. Please... don't be angry." "You can't even look at him!" Shen Hongchuan said helplessly, "Fine, I won't even look at him." After his inexplicable outburst, Ming Zhu seemed to deflate. He brushed away Shen Hongchuan’s hand when the latter tried to support him, then opened the door and stumbled toward Master Guining’s quarters. In his spare time, Master Guining was always reading the scriptures he had brought. When Ming Zhu pushed the door open, Guining was sitting by the window, a yellowed book in his hand, though his gaze was fixed on the starry night sky outside. Ming Zhu walked over and collapsed into a kneeling position before him. He wrapped his arms around Guining’s waist and said hoarsely, "Master." Master Guining didn't move. He continued to stare at the night sky, his voice sounding ethereal. "Zhou Mingzhong will act, but not yet. Don't wind yourself so tight." "Master," Ming Zhu buried his face in Guining’s robes, his voice muffled. "Why would you rather trap me in Rizhao for a lifetime without freedom than let me cultivate properly and change my fate through my own strength?" Master Guining froze. He withdrew his gaze and looked down at Ming Zhu. For a long time, he said nothing. "If I could achieve the Dao, wouldn't I be able to handle Zhou Mingzhong and all these misfortunes myself?" Ming Zhu gripped Guining’s lapels tightly. "You say I'm useless and that I come to you for help with everything, but you..." Ming Zhu slowly raised his head, revealing eyes brimming with tears. He said mournfully, "...you never gave me the choice to handle these things on my own."