On the third day after Shen Bozhou arrived at the mountain, he still hadn't woken up.

  His internal energy had been regulated, and his external wounds were healing. Spiritual power was infused into him twice a day, and the patient's complexion was no longer as pale as it initially was. His breathing was steady, and even his sleep talking had lessened.

  But why was there still no sign of him opening his eyes?

  Little Tao Immortal and the century-old chicken exchanged glances.

  "Could it be... am I really just an incompetent doctor?"

  He muttered to himself, in disbelief.

  The yellow chicken clucked twice.

  "Impossible, absolutely impossible. I've lived for over a thousand years and seen everything. Let me try again."

  He began to ponder various methods.

  Having a patient at home who did nothing but breathe didn't put much pressure on Tao Mian.

  He usually spent his days tending to flowers, plants, and trees, maintaining tea sets and wine vessels, all of which required effort, yet he found joy in them.

  Now, treating the unconscious Shen Bozhou as an object to be managed, he felt his mind and body relax.

  By the seventh day, Shen Bozhou still showed no signs of waking up.

  This time, Tao Mian began to seriously doubt his medical skills.

  Fortunately, he had outside help.

  He wrote a letter to Rong Zheng, briefly mentioning Shen Bozhou's situation and asking if she had any good solutions.

  Rong Zheng's replies were always quick and decisive.

  "Let him die."

  "......"

  Tao Mian couldn't straightforwardly tell her that Shen Bozhou couldn't die just yet. He made up an excuse, saying they had some unresolved karma.

  Rong Zheng's reply came the next day, though he wasn't sure what method she used.

  "I borrowed a Severing Fate Sword to cut the karma between you two."

  "......"

  Despite the blunt and rough tone of the reply, Rong Zheng still consulted the Divine Doctor for a few remedies.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "Little Tao, don't worry," Rong Zheng wrote back, "The Divine Doctor said that healing is like pulling silk threads; you have to take it slow.

  ...

  If you really can't wait, then let him die."

  Tao Mian extracted useful information from the letter and tried several on Shen Bozhou.

  Unfortunately, the other party remained like a robust dead fish, unwilling to leave the realm of dreams.

  Tao Mian didn't force it. If he woke, he woke; if not, he would just lie there as a decoration. In his spare time, Tao Mian wrote a few talismans and stuck them around, which could also ward off evil.

  However, just as he stopped obsessing over the matter, Shen Bozhou began to change.

  The sixth disciple awoke on a clear morning. The sun was bright, and the wind was gentle. A gray-yellow mountain sparrow landed on the windowsill, its black eyes like beans, its beak chestnut red, tilting its head curiously at him.

  Shen Bozhou felt a bit dazed, his memory still fragmented.

  Apart from remembering his own name, everything else was hazy, like seeing flowers through mist.

  He clutched his head, frowning, trying to recall something.

  At this moment, someone appeared at the door.

  He seemed to have just returned from outside, his forehead damp with dew, his clothes full of moisture. He wore a wrist-bound robe of bamboo green, with jade hairpins and embroidery on his boots in the same color.

  Standing there, he looked as if he were a spirit of bamboo—

  Practically a bamboo spirit come to life.

  Shen Bozhou noticed he held two or three lotus flowers, one still in bud, which he impatiently crushed.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat felt parched, and his voice came out like sand grinding against glass, unbearably harsh.

  "You're awake? That's great," the person at the door smiled, eyes curving, "Have some water."

  There was warm tea on the small table beside him, cooled just right for drinking. He sipped the tea, his eyes following the person around.

  After entering the room, the person moved like a spinning top, tossing a blood-stained cloth aside and stuffing ink-stained papers into a pile.

  The room was a mess, having been too preoccupied with healing to clean up, and the clutter had accumulated everywhere.

  As he tidied up, he talked to himself.

  "Most of your external wounds have healed, except for the one on your abdomen. It's severe and will take more time. Oh, and don't use your spiritual power for now. To stop your bleeding, I sealed a few acupoints, and it wouldn't be good if they were forced open.

  The mountain has everything; if not, you can ask the young men in the village to buy it, just remember to pay them. By the way, what do you want to eat? Or maybe you shouldn't think about it, I can't cook anything."

  He spoke like pouring beans from a bamboo tube, yet his hands moved steadily, even having the leisure to kick the meddling yellow chicken aside.

  "Who... are you?"

  Shen Bozhou's head hurt. He felt like he had seen the person before, but the impression was faint.

  When he asked this question, the person, busy with his back to him, suddenly turned around, serious.

  "I am the father you forgot."

  "... If you're acting, don't laugh. If you can't hold it in, just laugh. I remember who my father is."

  "Tsk, what a thing to say," the bamboo spirit turned around again, "Who says a person can only have one father?"

  "........."

  The tone of his speech was somewhat familiar, reminding Shen Bozhou of something. Unhurried, lazy, with a smile at the end. Even in frustrating situations, he would methodically accuse the other party.

  "You are..." Shen Bozhou began to recall the person's identity, "You're the one from Mist Tower—"

  "Oh, you remember me?"

  Tao Mian finally stopped moving, turned around with a bundle of bedding in his arms, and smiled.

  "You remember Mist Tower but not Thousand Lantern Tower? Alright, seems like it's the half of the personality I wanted."

  When Shen Bozhou was unconscious, Tao Mian had been a bit worried.

  If the evil half of the personality appeared, he wouldn't know how to handle it.

  Fortunately, the current Shen Bozhou was the good one, though his mind wasn't very sharp.

  Shen Bozhou understood what he was implying.

  "I'm reforming myself; you can trust me."

  "If it's just the two of us standing face to face, I still trust myself more. If my disciple were here, I'd trust her more."

  "You have other disciples?"

  "Of course. Now you're also a disciple of Peach Blossom Mountain. Are you happy? Surprised?"

  Shen Bozhou was still slowly digesting all the unfamiliar things. Hearing Tao Mian say this, he asked in return.

  "I'm homeless now, so I should find a place to stay. Coming to your Peach Blossom Mountain... are there any benefits?"

  "Of course, there are benefits, like food and lodging."

  "And what else?"

  "And you'll take care of my food and lodging."

  "......"

  Shen Bozhou fell silent, and Tao Mian looked back at this down-and-out new disciple, smiling—

  "Drink today if there's wine, sleep today if there's none. Worrying too much about the future will—"

  "Will?"

  "Will make future matters excessively worrisome."

  "......"

  Thus, Shen Bozhou inexplicably ended up with an unreliable Immortal.

  For now, he went along, but by the next morning, before dawn, Tao Mian's expression changed.

  He tapped the armrest of his chair with a peach branch, his expression serious, questioning Shen Bozhou.

  "Tell me, why did you fight with the yellow chicken?"

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