Old Priest was not polite either; he tore off a rabbit leg and started gnawing on it himself. With each bite of rabbit meat, he took a swig of fine wine. His movements didn’t seem fast, but strangely, before Julian Reed could even react, he had already eaten half a rabbit leg and nearly finished the wine.

Julian Reed was heartbroken: “You damned Taoist, give me back my wine!” Priest ignored him, focusing only on eating and drinking. The grease from the rabbit and the wine dripped onto his clothes, but he didn’t care at all. His already shabby Taoist robe now looked exactly like the standard uniform of the Beggars’ Sect!

Seeing that Old Priest was about to finish all the wine by himself, Julian Reed became furious. He stood up, ready to snatch it back. But how could he out-snatch Old Priest? Priest ate and ran at the same time, and no matter how hard Julian Reed chased, he just couldn’t catch up. The two of them chased each other around the campfire, circling it who knows how many times. Gordon Brooks weighed his options and decided it was best to look out for himself. Besides, with such delicious food in front of him, if he didn’t eat now, there’d be none left. So he tore off a rabbit leg and started eating too.

After Old Priest had eaten and drunk his fill, the whole rabbit was gone. The wine was almost finished as well. Old Priest tilted his head back, trying to pour out the last drops from the wine jar. Once he was sure there wasn’t a drop left, he casually tossed the jar aside: “The old Taoist is leaving!” Julian Reed sat to the side, cheeks puffed out in anger. Old Priest grinned, “Don’t worry, kid. The old Taoist won’t eat for free—there’ll be benefits for you.” With that, he flicked his tattered sleeve, floated up to the treetop, and with a few leaps, disappeared from sight.

Only after Old Priest had truly left did Julian Reed finally breathe a sigh of relief. He glanced around, a sly smile appearing on his face. Reaching under the stone he’d been sitting on, he lifted it up and dug in the dirt, actually unearthing another bottle of wine!

“Heh heh, I came prepared! That Old Priest is cunning, with a nose as sharp as a dog’s. It’s not easy to fool him!” Seeing the triumphant Julian Reed, Gordon Brooks was speechless—what a pair of jokers.

The rabbit was gone, but there was still pheasant. Julian Reed pushed aside the campfire, and underneath, the beggar’s chicken was just right. He and Gordon Brooks each took one and ate their fill. However, Julian Reed was a bit drunk. Though he loved to drink, his tolerance was truly lacking, so Gordon Brooks half-carried, half-supported him back.

The bright moon hung in the sky, and the person by the window could not sleep.

From the other bed, Julian Reed’s snores thundered. Normally, this kid didn’t snore, but once he drank too much, anything could happen.

Gordon Brooks gazed at the silver moonlight by the window, a faint smile on his lips. Life had been tough lately, but he was happy. Every few days, he’d go out and mess around with Julian Reed, and somehow, he felt even happier than when he was worshipped by demons at the Bone Fortress festival.

Gordon Brooks couldn’t figure it out. The less he understood, the more he wanted to. Ever since he gained spiritual awareness hundreds of years ago and officially entered the path of cultivation, he’d only known to keep training, never considering what cultivation would bring him. The goal of cultivation was singular: to become immortal. Mortals wanted to become immortals, so did ghosts and monsters. But for what purpose?

No one had ever told Gordon Brooks the answer. That night, he didn’t suffer from insomnia—he was a heavy sleeper, after all, so how could he? But even in his dreams, the question lingered in his mind.

“Whoosh”—another bamboo arrow flew. Needless to say, it was the handiwork of Julian Reed. But this time, the arrow didn’t bring down any prey. Julian Reed was puzzled: “I clearly saw it here…” Just then, a shadow flashed in the nearby grass. Julian Reed shouted, “Don’t run!” and dashed after it. Gordon Brooks called out from behind, “Forget it, stop chasing.”

But Julian Reed wouldn’t listen, sprinting with all his might, determined to catch that rabbit. Gordon Brooks had no choice but to follow. Strangely, the rabbit was especially stubborn today, running desperately ahead and constantly changing direction, causing Julian Reed to miss again and again. Frustrated, Julian Reed thought, I can’t handle a dead rabbit? Ignoring Gordon Brooks behind him, he sped up, intent on catching the rabbit that was making a fool of him.

Gordon Brooks jogged along behind, trying to persuade him: “Let’s just stop, we can always hunt another one…” Julian Reed didn’t reply, single-mindedly giving chase. Over hills and through forests and streams, who knew how long or how far they’d run? The surroundings grew more and more unfamiliar, and Gordon Brooks began to sense something was wrong. He shouted loudly to Julian Reed: “Little Pig, stop chasing! If you keep going, I’m not helping you anymore…” But now, it wasn’t just him not helping others—others weren’t helping him either.

Bursting out of a dense forest, Gordon Brooks suddenly lost his footing and, with a scream, plummeted down—turns out, beyond the forest was a sheer cliff! Gordon Brooks was terrified. He couldn’t fly on spiritual energy now, and falling from such a height—even with his tough body, he might not die, but it would definitely hurt!