Happy Little Farmer
Chapter 734

Chapter 734: Chapter 734

"There’s no need to worry about anything. Sure, it’s odd that you get tired so quickly during cultivation, but your progress is swift, so taking a break isn’t a bad idea." Mr. Fan shook his head with a chuckle and said to Yang Fan.

Even he felt speechless about this situation, his brain couldn’t quite figure out which direction to think in order to come up with a plausible answer. After wandering through half a lifetime, he’d never encountered something so bizarre.

Yang Fan didn’t think too much of it himself. He felt that constantly improving was a good thing, even if it was a little slower, he could accept it. He had never considered himself extraordinarily gifted.

For as long as he could remember, Yang Fan had always believed deep down that he was just a normal guy—an ordinary person as ordinary as it gets.

"Master, someone with my aptitude... Would you say it’s pretty decent?" Yang Fan asked.

Mr. Fan nodded, "You might not believe in yourself, but you should believe in your grandmaster’s judgment. I wouldn’t take a useless disciple. While the Tianji Sect may be in decline, we still have our principles. Picking a waste of a disciple would make the decline even faster—give it a few years and the sect could completely disappear."

"You’re not outstanding, but you are above average. In the future, you might even surpass me."

Yang Fan: ...

This old man... Seriously starts getting cheeky after a few sentences.

So, was he complimenting him or insulting him?

"I get the feeling surpassing you wouldn’t exactly be a challenge," Yang Fan teased.

Mr. Fan let out a sinister chuckle, "Kid, when the time comes and you’re getting beaten up, don’t come crying."

Yang Fan shrugged, walked over to Mr. Fan’s side, leaned a little sideways against the wall, and sat down all spread out casually, "You’d better focus on cultivating, elder. This precious spiritual energy—are you really planning to waste it like that?"

Mr. Fan chuckled softly and waved his hand at Yang Fan, "Keep an eye out. This ghostly thing still makes me feel uneasy. If anything does happen, retreat quickly and call for me."

"Got it. Hurry up already," Yang Fan said with a grin, waving his hand dismissively.

Despite all his disdainful words, the elder’s concern and care for him were embedded in almost every detail.

This grandmaster, who was he even trying to trouble?

Mr. Fan crossed his legs and sat down on the stone bed to begin his meditation.

Feeling bored, Yang Fan pulled out his phone to check the time. It was 6:50 a.m.

The day was already breaking.

But in here, it was still night.

The dense locust tree leaves blocked every bit of outside light, not even the faintest glimmer could seep in.

The stone cave was only illuminated by the lustrous glowing light radiating from the jade walls, shimmering like the ripples on a water surface. Though it wasn’t very bright, it was enough to see clearly.

Staring at the phone screen, Yang Fan’s expression suddenly froze.

His phone had absolutely no signal—not even a single bar. Both SIM cards displayed glaringly obvious crosses. So what was Mr. Fan doing just now?

That constant "ding ding du du" sound was clearly notification tones.

What kind of phone did he even have?

Once he had time, he ought to ask about it and see if he could swap his phone for Mr. Fan’s.

A phone that worked perfectly fine in a ghostly place like this? Now that’s a phone worth having.

Setting his phone down, Yang Fan lit a cigarette and stared quietly at the densely packed locust leaves around the cave entrance.

He couldn’t help but wonder—would this thing be afraid of heat?

A thought sparked in his mind, and he extended his cigarette butt towards the leaves. Very quickly, a sizzling noise sounded as a small hole was burned through the foliage.

But the entire wall of leaves remained still, showing no reaction at all.

Just then, an unexpected change occurred.

A thin branch suddenly extended from between the leaves, coiling around Yang Fan’s wrist.

Yang Fan jumped in fright, instinctively grabbing the ruler and slicing down hard.

A streak of golden light flashed, and the thin branch broke, falling beside Yang Fan’s right hand.

As it dropped, Yang Fan could clearly see the branch sliding down along some sort of invisible barrier before hitting the ground.

Yang Fan’s eyes narrowed sharply.

Even though the stone cave’s barriers had already dissipated, there was still an unseen prohibition here that specifically targeted these sinister objects.

Perhaps this prohibition only applied to such eerie, malevolent things.

For a stone cave so small to be able to block the wicked and powerful old locust tree, the cave’s original owner must have been someone truly remarkable—likely one of those mythical figures known to move through the skies.

Although they were long gone, who knows how many years ago, their remaining methods were still able to fend off the ferocious old locust tree that had tormented both Yang Fan and Mr. Fan into exhaustion. A gap in abilities like this was akin to the difference between heaven and earth.

At that moment, another thin branch slithered out from the dense locust leaves.

It moved like a nimble little snake, coiling around Yang Fan’s dropped cigarette.

Soon, the tree leaves began to stir, merging together into a grotesque and abstract face. The lopsided features were like a pear-shaped mess—one cheek sagged low while the other bulged high. Its two eyes were sunken and elliptical, resembling pits without eyelids. The chin was recessed, while the nose jutted upward and sharp.

What was even more absurd—it actually had a beard.

Thin branches wrapped around the cigarette, lifting it to the face’s lips. The face took a deep, indulgent drag and let out a puff of smoke, saying with great satisfaction, "This thing... I would call it humankind’s most splendid discovery. Smoke clouds—normally I detest them, yet by chance, I discovered their peculiar appeal."

Yang Fan watched the abstract face warily, hesitating slightly before deciding not to disturb Mr. Fan.

This thing remained on the other side of that invisible wall.

"Young human, how about we strike a deal?" The abstract face curled into a sinister smile.

Yang Fan scoffed, "How about I chop you up and throw you into the pot?"

"Sure, this worthless husk—I could simply give it to you," the abstract face said generously. "But no, the deal I have in mind isn’t that; it concerns something else—something related to both our paths and futures."

"How about hearing me out first before you decide? Though we may be enemies, is there truly such a thing as an eternal enemy in this world? With enough benefits, I believe we could still become very good partners."

Yang Fan stared at it with steady composure, offering no response. Instead, he quietly took out the embroidered shoes.

Let’s hope this time the shoes could show a little courtesy and bless him with a cheerful "I love you."

"You humans, monks, spend your lives chasing the pure spiritual energy of heaven and earth, powerful magical treasures—but such things mean little to beings like me. Actually... that’s not entirely correct. I do have an affinity for pure spiritual energy, but I’m far less obsessed than you humans are." The abstract face continued smoking, dragging its words slowly, like an old man deep in thought.

"Can you just cut to the chase? What the hell are you rambling on about? Get to the point already!" Yang Fan snapped impatiently.

The abstract face chuckled, "Young human, you’re awfully impulsive. As a youth, patience is a virtue. Meals are eaten bite by bite, and words should be spoken piece by piece—especially to an elder like me. Patience toward the aged is called respecting the elderly and cherishing the young, no? Tell me, am I wrong?"

Yang Fan rolled his eyes, "Go f**k yourself!"