The Li household was small but lively. Smoke rose from the kitchen as Li Ming’s mother prepared enough food to feed half the Azure Sky Sect. His father sat proudly at the table, sharpening his hoe like it was so divine weapon. His little sister, Li i, was bouncing on her chair, swinging her wooden stick at invisible enemies.
Li Ming sat down cautiously. He had fought deadly beasts, arrogant sect geniuses, and impossible trials, but nothing terrified him as much as family dinner.
His mother ca out carrying a mountain of dishes. Plates of vegetables, bowls of soup, and a steaming tower of buns landed in front of him.
"Eat!" she commanded. "Eat until you look like a real cultivator, not a broomstick in robes."
Li Ming imdiately grabbed a bun. "Yes, Mother."
Li i stretched her hand toward the sa bun.
Li Ming smacked her hand away. "Mine."
"Selfish!" she yelled, but grabbed another bun anyway.
His father leaned back and cleared his throat. "So, son, tell us about life in the great sect. Do they make you spar with tigers? Do you battle lightning every morning?"
Li Ming blinked. "...Mostly we sweep floors, carry water, and get bullied by senior disciples."
His father stared. "...So no tigers?"
"No."
"No lightning?"
"No."
His father sighed, clearly disappointed. "Hmph. What’s the point of joining a sect if you don’t fight lightning?"
Li Ming groaned and took another bun. "Father, cultivation isn’t about fighting lightning. It’s about—"
"Beating chickens?" his sister interrupted with a grin.
The bun almost fell out of Li Ming’s hand. "I told you, I lost to the chicken! I tripped! It doesn’t count!"
His mother set down another plate. "Hush, all of you. Li Ming is a genius, no matter how many chickens he loses to."
"Mother..." Li Ming muttered, face in his hands.
But his mother wasn’t done. "In fact, when you were gone, villagers ca to us every day, asking when you’d return. So even want to build a statue of you in the square."
Li Ming froze mid-bite. "...A statue?"
His father nodded proudly. "Yes. A statue of you fighting a chicken, of course."
Li Ming slamd his head on the table. "Why can’t people forget the chicken?!"
Li i giggled and leaned close to whisper, "Don’t worry, big brother. When I surpass you, I’ll make sure they also build a statue of beating you."
"Over my dead body," Li Ming hissed.
Dinner continued in chaos. His father kept asking ridiculous questions like, "When will you ascend to immortality and buy us a golden house?" His mother kept piling more food onto his plate until it looked like a mountain. Li i kept poking him with her stick every ti he tried to talk seriously.
At one point, Li Ming finally snapped. "Why are you poking every five seconds?!"
"Training," Li i said proudly. "If I poke you one thousand tis, I’ll break through to the next stage."
"You’ll break through my patience first!"
The family laughed while Li Ming groaned and ate another bun. For the first ti in months, he wasn’t fighting for his life—but sohow, this was even harder.
---
Later that night, the villagers gathered outside the house. They had heard noises, laughter, and the sound of Li Ming screaming, "Get off my leg!" at least twice. By the ti the candles were blown out, the whole village had already created ten new rumors.
So swore Li Ming was training in secret techniques that required being bitten by a younger sibling. Others whispered that his family fed him sacred buns blessed by the heavens. By morning, these rumors would spread like wildfire.
Inside, Li Ming lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He had faced beasts, trials, and arrogant cultivators... yet sohow, his own family was the scariest challenge of all.
"Maybe I should’ve stayed in the sect," he whispered.
From the other room, his sister shouted, "Don’t worry, Big Brother! Tomorrow I’ll defeat you for real!"
Li Ming groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. "Heavens, save ..."
---
Bonus Bit – The Villagers’ eting
While Li Ming tried to sleep, the villagers gathered in the square. A man stood up with a serious face.
"Brothers and sisters, we must honor Li Ming properly. Tomorrow, we begin building his statue!"
"Yes!" everyone shouted.
"But should the statue show him splitting a mountain or fighting a chicken?"
"Both!" yelled soone.
"No, no," argued another. "It should show him blessing a pig. I saw it with my own eyes!"
They all began shouting over each other. Finally, the village elder raised his cane.
"Silence! We shall build three statues—one of him fighting a chicken, one splitting a mountain, and one blessing a pig!"
The crowd erupted in cheers.
anwhile, inside his house, Li Ming sneezed in his sleep, unaware that by morning he would be the proud owner of three very ridiculous statues.
To be continued...
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