Rebirth: Slice-of-life Cultivation Chapter 1677 - 913: People of the Past, People of the Present

Jiang Ning carried the bamboo rat outdoors, unleashing a blaze from his palm that ended its life in a flash.

In one swift motion, he peeled away every bit of fur from the bamboo rat, banished the foul odor from the skin, and then sliced open its stomach with a knife.

Once thoroughly cleaned, he brought the bamboo rat back inside the house.

Tongtong wasn't busy in the kitchen preparing the meal. With the Lantern Festival arriving and the moon glowing radiantly tonight, she opted for a picnic on the open space right in front of their home.

Xue Chuchu grabbed a shovel, assisted in digging a hole in the earth, erected a pot rack, and positioned the household's extra pot atop it. Just like that, a basic outdoor earthen stove came together.

On the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, the full moon dominated the sky, radiant and splendid.

Far-off fields draped in a delicate silver glow, while the level patch near the entrance lit up under electric lamps. Xue Yuantong perched on a little wooden stool cushioned softly, skillfully arranging dishes and bowls.

"Fried bamboo rat with bamboo shoots, plus flatbreads stuck around the pot's rim!" she declared.

Xue Chuchu eyed the hole she'd excavated: "Hmm, we've got sweet potatoes at home—want some?"

"Yes, yes! When it's nearly finished, bury the sweet potatoes beneath the firewood for some delicious roasted ones." Xue Yuantong felt her stomach rumbling already.

Jiang Ning proclaimed: "Time to begin."

And with that, cooking commenced.

Next door, Mr. Qian observed Jiang Ning's group enjoying their outdoor feast but kept silent.

Butcher Zhang lingered at his doorway, staring at the full moon, echoing lines from the broadcast he'd seen, and sighed: "Joyful Lantern Festival, celebrating reunion—where is my Ba Wang?"

Despite slaughtering pigs for a living, he wasn't devoid of emotion. He'd raised that dog for years, the smartest one Butcher Zhang had ever known.

"Son!" Butcher Zhang shouted.

Zhang Ruyun jumped: "Dad, what's wrong?"

He'd been texting his girlfriend Ah Yue; school resumed tomorrow. He'd hoped to convince her to take the train back with him, but she mentioned a friend driving her instead.

Zhang Ruyun, already downcast, felt even more so now.

Father missed his dog, son longed for his girl.

The cheerful ones remained Jiang Ning and his companions picnicking outdoors.

Firewood snapped and popped in the blaze; though noisy, the sound brought profound tranquility, far more authentic than headphone white noise, since the smoky scent and warming heat defied imitation.

Flickering flames danced across Chuchu's serene features, lending an enigmatic hue, as if sparks gleamed deep in her luminous eyes.

Xue Yuantong blanched the bamboo rat without glancing over, certain Jiang Ning wasn't tending the fire.

She directed: "Chuchu, head to my kitchen and whip up some flatbreads—the fire's roaring, they'll cook quick."

"Got it." Chuchu departed.

Once blanching was done, the oil sizzled hot, and she tossed in the bamboo rat meat, layering in seasonings—ginger, cooking wine, oyster sauce, dark soy sauce—one after another.

Petite as she was, her movements brimmed with power; Jiang Ning marveled at her vigor's source.

Mr. Qian, watching the fierce stir-fry of the bamboo rat, commented: "What's that you're cooking? So gamey—doesn't smell appetizing when fried."

Jiang Ning paid Mr. Qian no heed, instead tossing a log into the fire pit beneath the pot, deliberately masking the rising scents as Tongtong cooked to avoid overwhelming them.

After vigorous stir-frying, she added chopped bamboo shoots, giving them a quick toss. A crisp aroma burst forth, spurring Xue Yuantong to stir even more energetically.

When well-mixed, she poured in water to stew, while ordering Jiang Ning: "Hurry, add more firewood."

Jiang Ning shoved in three logs at once; the blaze intensified.

Tongtong scooped away the froth with a ladle, lid secured the pot—now they waited.

Chuchu came back bearing a small pail and bowl.

"Too soon!" Xue Yuantong noted; flatbreads went on the pot's edge ten minutes shy of done.

Xue Chuchu: "Bored inside, came to warm up."

Jiang Ning: "Here for the smell, huh?"

Xue Chuchu stayed quiet.

From next door, Mr. Qian called out: "Hahaha, if you're idle, join me for lantern riddle guesses! 'The bright moon shines above the frontier'—name a word!"

Xue Yuantong ignored the solitary old scholar, dismissing with a wave: "We're playing Fight the Landlord soon."

Mr. Qian managed a wry grin.

Butcher Zhang wondered: "Old Qian, you're riddle whiz—why not hit Evergreen Liquid Building? Heard they give prizes for correct guesses!"

Mr. Qian shot him a look, pondering Evergreen Liquid's grand event packed with professors—a random toss would strike scholars aplenty; his talents paled...

Mr. Qian shook his head wistfully: "Talent can't be revealed! Talent can't be revealed!"

Butcher Zhang frowned in bewilderment: "What nonsense is that?"

Mr. Qian bemoaned his overlooked genius and harsh destiny, snapping irritably: "Hopeless fool!"

Just then, Xue Yuantong, fumbling a card with her tiny fingers, complained: "Hey, Jiang Ning, why's the smoke always blowing my way? It's scorching!"

The fire's heat forced her to turn her face aside instinctively.

Mr. Qian overheard and boomed: "Lantern Festival honors the departed—fires lit outdoors draw ancestral spirits sensing your warmth. Divided by death's veil, they brush the forbidden, burning your cheeks!"

His voice grave and sorrowful, evoking lost parents, deeply stirring.

Butcher Zhang felt moved, grieving his vanished Bawang Dog.

Xue Yuantong gazed into the flames, witnessing the blaze beneath the pot surge wildly, spilling over the rim to twist into a brilliant fiery whirlwind soaring skyward.

"Wow wow wow!" Xue Yuantong leaped up, eyes bulging at the stunning display.

"What now? What now?" she yelped, hopping excitedly—like some ritual dance to outsiders.

Zhang Ruyun, moon-gazing in melancholy, spotted the radiant fire spiral; memories of Ah Yue flooded back unbidden.

In scholarly flair, he intoned: "Flying embers weave longing's story!"

Butcher Zhang: "Fine boy!"

Mr. Qian tilted skyward, roaring with laughter, applauding: "Excellent, excellent, excellent!"

Inspiration struck Mr. Qian; moon-gazing, he declaimed fervently: "Old kin caress the brows of the living, sweeping away decades of woes for you!"

Xue Yuantong fixated on the brilliant blaze, gleefully addressing it: "Great-grandma, you've returned! As expected from my great-grandma—even your comeback dazzles!"

Xue Chuchu pressed her lips: "..."

She pondered briefly, then clarified: "Scientifically, fire whirls form from hot air rising, drawing in cool air to create convection."

Tongtong sulked: "Such a buzzkill, Chuchu."

Xue Chuchu inwardly sighed: ’Should’ve kept quiet.’

Xue Yuantong seized the moment for a wish, hands clasped, chirping brightly: "Great-grandma, bless me to reach one meter seventy—no, one meter eighty!"

Her words barely out, the fiery whirlwind promptly died down.

Silence enveloped the scene abruptly.

Xue Yuantong froze awkwardly seconds later, then earnestly declared: "Chuchu, you're spot on—I shouldn't be so superstitious!"

Jiang Ning, unable to resist, chuckled: "Treating Chuchu like your plaything?"

...

The Xue Family entrance buzzed with energy, and the bonfire east of the farmhouse roared vibrantly.

Zhuang Jianhui clustered with youths and girls in lively games, their spirited age fueling endless banter.

Boss Yang had the chef whip up longan water chestnut soup for the night's visitors—refreshingly cool.

Chatter filled the air as all recounted the year's tales, laughter resounding nonstop.

Wang Yong seized the opening to chat Fourth Middle School gossip with the nearby young lord, aiming to bond.

"Our school's flashiest is Qi Tianheng from grade 11 class 2. His sidekick Zhao Xiaofeng links to grade 12 seniors, bosses grade 10 underclassmen, even runs a personal intel network slaving away for him. Real power player in Fourth Middle!"

Wang Yong's family held petty posts, but vast wealth wielded its own might.

They couldn't match Qi Tianheng's dad, eyeing Capital residency via factory investment. Back in Yuzhou, departmental welcomes awaited.

Wang Yong: "Qi Tianheng flaunts tons of watches. Word is his priciest, the watch king, nears seven figures."

The young lord sipped his sweet soup, smiling calmly: "Ordinary people live pretty cushy these days, right?"

Lin Zida eyed him, thinking: classic, top show-off in our set.

Lin Zida laughed: "Brother Jin, gonna show off?"

The young lord skipped replying, lifting his wrist: "Yongzi, check my watch—how's it stack against Qi Tianheng's?"

Wang Yong first dismissed it as basic digital, unremarkable, yet the guy's status prompted closer scrutiny.

"That crystal—iPhone sapphire? Super clear, and... misty like fog?" Wang Yong puzzled, fascinated.

The young lord withdrew his wrist leisurely, drawling: "Custom rare crystal, mists up below freezing."

Wang Yong lit up: "So yours tops Qi Tianheng's watch king for sure!"

The young lord waved it off smiling: "No comparison."

Lin Zida rolled his eyes inwardly: Wang Yong seems sharp, yet misses it's just cheap junk?

Zhuang Jianhui mused silently: ’Commoners' wild guesses at elites—tedious and crude.’

Wei Zishan pressed: "Chicken done yet, Yongzi? Starving here. Delay more, Jiang Ning's bamboo rats'll be history!"

Wang Yong grinned: "Nearly there. Bamboo rats tricky—Jiang Ning's probably still waiting..."

A bizarre scent drifted from afar, engulfing the farmhouse fire swiftly.

Wang Yong's speech cut off. He inhaled deeply; the aroma conjured pristine mountain bamboo shoots, sun-and-moon infused, vivid in his thoughts.

"What's that?" Wei Zishan whipped toward the west.