Volume One, Chapter One: A Gift Like a Biscuit

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Dusk, and the setting sun.

With a sharp whoosh, a round ball streaked across the field ridge.

Through the woods, four eyes swiveled in the grass.

“What was that?”

“No idea...”

“Looked like a ball of meat...”

“Mm...”

Dancing white specks, rolling spheres, birds flitting everywhere—all flickered across the fields.

“That up ahead—must be a rabbit!”

“...”

“And behind it...”

A sudden silence pressed the air into tension.

As the dust settled, a chubby boy came trudging toward the woods, clutching a little white rabbit. He was panting, his plump flesh quivering with each breath. The four eyes in the grass widened twice over.

“It’s... just a fat kid...”

“Yeah... and damn, how fast he runs...”

“Let’s just leave...”

“No, let’s choose him!”

“What?”

In that instant, a burst of flame soared skyward. The chubby boy had already set the rabbit over the campfire, unable to wait another moment.

“Such a ruthless little killer...”

“Who cares!”

“That smells... amazing...”

From the grass came the rumbling of empty stomachs.

There are times when patience breaks, and no more forbearance is needed.

Two dark shadows shot out from the undergrowth. Beneath an old tree, the chubby boy had no time to react before he was trussed up and gagged. A burlap sack was swiftly thrown over his head.

“Oh no, my rabbit!” the boy thought in horror. His freshly roasted rabbit had just been snatched away! He squirmed desperately, trying to wriggle free, but it was useless. As he gasped for breath, a familiar slurping and munching came from outside the sack.

After a pain that seemed to tear him in half, the chubby boy drifted into a daze and fell asleep. Who knew how long had passed before he was jolted awake by a bouncing, jostling motion. Dazed, he realized he was being carried on someone’s back.

“Senior brother, I... I...” Suddenly, someone outside the sack gasped.

“...I know...” responded the one called senior brother, unmistakably reluctant. Instantly, the chubby boy was dropped to the ground.

“Senior... senior brother... can’t we just... find another one?”

“You think I want to? Ugh...” The boy felt himself hoisted up again.

“Senior brother? Are you alright?”

“...I’m fine... just twisted something...” Senior brother gritted his teeth. “It’s getting dark... where are we going to find another one before midnight...”

“But this kid is way too heavy...”

“It’s all your fault... you didn’t even check...”

“I... just noticed he was round...”

“Damn it! Good thing we just ate...!”

“Senior brother, don’t curse...”

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“...Say one more word, and you’re carrying him!”

From then on, the chubby boy could hear only distant insects and his captors’ ragged breathing.

Every mile or so, the pair switched places. After many miles, the boy could feel their pace slow noticeably.

“We’re not allowed to use magic—this is torture!” The junior brother grumbled as he took the burden back.

“...We’re cultivators... must endure the toils of the human world... damn it... let’s just throw him out...”

“No, wait... just over this hill, we’ll be there!”

“...Then you carry him up the hill...”

“Fine, I’ll—” The junior’s protest was cut short by a loud slap.

After that, the brothers fell silent, only switching off carrying duties as they went.

“Good grief!” By the time the junior spoke again, half an hour had passed. The chubby boy was dropped heavily to the ground and left ignored, with only the sound of both men panting on either side.

Suddenly, the sack was yanked from his head. Dazzling lamplight left the boy blinking at two blurred figures.

“This kid’s really fat!” The junior’s voice quavered. The boy was pale, round—practically a ball of meat!

“Yeah, couldn’t see in the dark!” The senior sucked in a cold breath. Both understood all too well—their master wanted a disciple, not a little fatty. How could such a plump child cultivate the Dao?

As the boy’s eyes adjusted, he nervously studied the two before him, both clad in Daoist robes. One was stocky and full-faced, short yet broad. The other was slender, with delicate features and a tall frame.

“Hey, fatty—what’s your name?” the delicate one asked gently—the junior, surely.

“You ate my rabbit...” The boy’s eyes blazed, his whole pudgy face puffing up.

“What nonsense...” The senior stepped forward and slapped him, leaving a perfect red handprint on the boy’s white cheek.

“We’re cultivators—how could we possibly eat your rabbit? Ahem...” He couldn’t help but cough.

“We only eat vegetarian food...” To prove it, the junior hurriedly thrust a baked bun in front of the boy. The boy’s eyes widened twice over.

“Hungry, are you? If you behave, there’ll be plenty!” The junior glanced slyly at the table, where a whole plate of buns awaited.

“My... my surname is Mu, and my name is Tian Ci...” The boy stared intently at the buns.

“Oh, a stray kid with such a refined name?” The senior sneered.

“I’m not a stray—I live in Mu Village, I...” The boy’s words were cut off as both men clapped hands over his mouth.

“Don’t shout, or else...” The senior pressed a sword to his throat. The boy froze, lips pressed tight.

“You’re filthy, clothes all torn, roasting rabbits in the wild, covered in mud—how are you not a stray?”

“I... I fell in a ditch and tore my clothes... As for the rabbit, I just like wild rabbit... chased it all day...”

“Nonsense! A stray for sure!” The senior shuffled his feet, agitated.

“Master’s nearly here—what do we do?” The junior’s hands trembled. The boy’s gaze was fixed on the bun in his hand.

“Heh, little fatty... If you behave, we’ll give you treats...” The senior’s eyes gleamed. “If not—” He brandished his sword.

“Yes, yes, behave and you’ll eat your fill!” The junior thrust a bun to the boy’s lips. He bit off half in one gulp.

“Fatty, do you want to cultivate immortality? So many wish for a chance, but few get it! Follow our master, and you’ll ascend to the heavens! At the very least, you’ll walk through walls or leap over rivers!”

“Over rivers!” The senior shot the junior a glare.

“Yes, yes, walk on water, that’s it...” The boy’s big eyes blinked rapidly. “I want to go home!”

“Damn!” The senior gave him another slap, leaving matching prints on both cheeks.

“Boohoo... I want to go home... waah...” The boy burst into earth-shaking sobs.

“Hey, hey, stop crying, stop!” The brothers, unused to such outbursts, fumbled helplessly to comfort him.

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“Honestly! It’s just some Daoist cultivation. Once you’re immortal, you can go wherever you want—even chase rabbits without running...”

“Really?” The boy stopped crying at once. The brothers exchanged a look, nodding vigorously.

“But I still want to go home.” The boy lunged and snatched the rest of the bun from the junior’s hand with his mouth.

“That’s easy! Finish your cultivation, and you’ll fly home in an instant!” The senior quickly pulled a chicken drumstick from his robe—a prize stolen from the junior last night.

The boy’s eyes sparkled.

“Listen to me first!” The senior whisked the drumstick behind his back. “In a moment, when my master comes, you must say you’re a stray and sincerely want to learn the Dao!”

“Hmph!” The boy nodded forcefully.

“Right, what was your name again?”

“Mu Tian Ci!”

“Some are born with spiritual talent, but you’re... gifted with buns, perhaps?” The senior eyed the boy’s rotund figure, truly resembling a giant bun.

“Senior brother! Let’s call him Bun! When Master comes, just say his name is Bun!” The junior clapped his brother’s shoulder with excitement.

“Alright, Bun it is!” The senior fixed the boy with a stare. “When Master comes, your name is Bun!” He waved the chicken drumstick for emphasis. The junior ground his teeth, cursing inwardly: Damn it, so that’s where my drumstick went!

The boy puffed out his cheeks, about to protest, but when the drumstick flashed before his eyes, he swallowed his words and nodded vigorously.

They waited half the night, but Master never appeared. Well-fed and watered, “Bun” soon fell asleep, his chubby face still streaked with tears.

“Let’s untie him—he can’t escape anyway!”

“True, when Master arrives, he’ll know we tied him up!” The senior hurried to loosen the ropes.

But with a sudden bound, the ball of flesh sprang upright and shot out the door.

“Whoa—!” the brothers cried in unison.

“No wonder the kid could catch a rabbit!”

“Yeah, never seen a fatty run so fast!”

They didn’t chase him, just crowded by the door and peered out. The round ball barreled straight for the main gate, crashed into it with a thud, bounced off, and landed hard on the ground, making the whole house shake. The brothers winced in sympathy.

After a long moment, Bun sat up. He rubbed his head, sprang up again, and charged the gate over and over. Who knows how many times he tried before turning to the wall.

What followed was a ball of meat rolling up the wall, then a lump of dough slowly sliding down. Over and over—up, then down. The junior’s eyes glistened with tears. That wall was magical, topped with an invisible barrier—without a little magic, no one could climb it.

“He’s going for the tree now...” the junior said, voice cracking.

“Mm...” The senior eyed him curiously. “What’s got you so moved?”

“He’s got some determination, this one...”

“Spare me! Good thing that gate is magical—do you know how much it would cost to fix? If Master saw, he’d break our legs!” The senior muttered angrily, rubbing his eyes.

The tree wasn’t ordinary either! Every so often, a branch would vanish, and the meatball would tumble down, thumping the ground and leaving craters everywhere.

“He climbs like a bear...” The senior nearly sobbed as he watched Bun hug the tree and shove his way up with all four limbs.

After over an hour of this, Bun finally slunk back inside, head drooping, sporting several lumps and a patchwork of bruises.

“How dare you try to escape!” The senior strode over and slapped him twice.

Bun didn’t cry out. He just stuck out his face and stared at the senior, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. Before he could open his mouth, the brothers bolted out of the house and locked the door behind them.

“Waaah... waaah... I want to go home... waaah... let me out... waaah... I’m hungry...” His wails shook the heavens and moved the gods; even the moon wanted to cover its ears.

“He’s hungry...” The junior, hiding just outside, was about to go in when the senior pulled him back.

“No, no, no... If you go soft now, you’ll never get him under control!” The senior frowned as he spoke. Bun’s weeping was truly heart-rending.