Cuju Ball Game Part 1

Feng Rugu, who usually sleeps lightly, was awakened early in the morning by the shouts from the cuju game outside the window.

He had a rare night of peaceful sleep, without nightmares or startling awake, so his mood was quite good.

It's just...

Feng Rugu hugged the quilt, seeing Ruyi supporting his chin with one hand, sleeping at a small table in a far corner, and smiled at himself in self-mockery.

Ah, as expected.

At this time, he also realized the childishness of his action of climbing through the window yesterday. Not wanting to disturb Ruyi's sleep anymore, he planned to quietly slip out, coming quietly and leaving quietly.

It's just that when he bent over to grope for his shoes and socks under the bed, Ruyi opened his eyes and looked at him, his gaze clear, not like he had just woken up, but more like he hadn't slept all night.

By the time Feng Rugu straightened up, he had quickly closed his eyes again.

Feng Rugu hastily put on his outer clothes, picked up his cloud boots upside down, and tiptoed out of the room.

His bare feet landed on the ground with a light patting sound.

...Just like a cat's paw pads landing on the ground.

Hai Jing, sleeping in the outer room, opened his eyes when he heard the door, only managing to see a figure sneaking out the door in a daze.

He suspected he had seen an illusion.

How could Lord Yunzhong come out of Junior Martial Uncle's room?

While he was curled up in the quilt, his thoughts a bit confused, he saw Ruyi come out from behind the screen in the inner room, fully dressed.

Hai Jing hurriedly perked up and greeted, "Junior Martial Uncle, good morning."

Ruyi didn't even glance at Hai Jing, only staring at the door that was open a crack, thinking of how Feng Rugu had nimbly slipped out from there, and couldn't help but smile, "Morning."

He thought, a waist as thin as three palms, going out from this little crack in the door, seemed quite normal.

But he soon realized that this thought was absurd and unreasonable, as if his mind had been captured by some evil art from an unknown source, making that one person occupy his entire mind and vision.

Ruyi, who had always had extremely good self-control, couldn't help but feel annoyed in his heart. He clenched his fists inside his sleeves for a long time, then helplessly loosened them again.

What was there to be troubled about?

In the end, it was nothing more than being affected by an evil art. He only needed to find Lin Xuejing and force him to remove this Jade of Testing Love, and all his difficulties would naturally be eliminated.

...

After the beginning of summer, the sun came out especially early.

Feng Rugu, sitting under the corridor, had only bent over to put on his shoes and socks, and done some simple washing up, when he broke out in a light sweat.

He took out a small silk fan, fanning himself while following the sound to find the source that had woken him up.

On the fine sand and grass, seven or eight disciples of Qingshuang Sect were shouting and playing cuju. They had set up a goal with two bamboo poles and had woven a fine net between them, making the small cuju field look quite authentic.

The disciples saw Feng Rugu and immediately stopped their play, saluting him.

A bold one invited him, "Does Lord Yunzhong want to give it a try?"

Feng Rugu very openly rolled up his sleeves, not caring at all about his priceless clothes, "Come on!"

If it were any other sport, such as teaching swordsmanship, Feng Rugu would definitely decline if he could.

But cuju made him reminisce about the distant past.

When Feng Rugu was thirteen, he loved cuju the most.

He took it upon himself to clear out a space behind the Green Bamboo Hall on Fengling Mountain, spreading fine sand and weaving several rattan-surfaced leather balls, often inviting three to five good friends to play.

Feng Rugu loved all kinds of fancy little tricks, able to make a ball dance with a thousand variations using just his toes.

He tied his hair up high with a headband, looking quite carefree and sharp. With a casual flick of the ball, he could stir up a gust of wind, "Senior Brother, catch it!"

Before Chang Boning could rush forward, a youth in crimson clothes, Han Jing, leaped up and intercepted the ball with his chest. He lightly bounced the ball back and forth a couple of times, but then back-heeled it to Chang Boning.

Jing Sanchai on the side stomped his foot and exclaimed, "Senior Brother Han! Senior Brother Chang isn't on our team!"

Han Jing smiled faintly and explained, "He hasn't touched the ball at all today."

Jing Sanchai chased after Chang Boning who was dribbling the ball, complaining, "You might as well be on his team next time!"

Chang Boning had a light blue headband tied around his forehead, looking refreshing and sharp.

He nimbly sidestepped past the two or three people who came to block the ball, and passed the ball only to Feng Rugu.

Feng Rugu, for his part, had passed who knows how many people; his thin spring shirt was already soaked with sweat, sticking to his chest as it rose and fell with his panting.

After receiving the ball, he shouted happily, hooking the ball up with his heel and tossing it high into the sky.

That rattan ball flew up to the clouds, as high as a flying bird.

But many years later, at this moment, the ball that he used to play with in a thousand ways could never reach Feng Rugu's feet.

He was just an ordinary mortal body that could not use spiritual power. His chest was full of countless techniques, but in terms of footwork and form, he appeared clumsy compared to those disciples who had just entered the Qi Refining stage and had not yet formed their Golden Core.

After playing with a few disciples for more than a quarter of an hour, Feng Rugu didn't even touch the ball once. Occasionally when he got a chance and was about to extend his foot, someone would immediately intercept it.

Realizing that it was impossible for him to catch up to that ball, Feng Rugu simply stopped, holding his knees while laughing and panting.

These few youths were playing in high spirits. Moreover, on the cuju field, they didn't have much reverence for the title "Lord Yunzhong", so they all laughed at him together, "The Lord Yunzhong doesn't know how to play ball at all!"

"That's right." Feng Rugu fanned himself with the back of his hand, smiling as he looked at this group of youths who were so much younger than him, sincerely praising, "How wonderful, you all."

As he spoke, Feng Rugu's peripheral vision suddenly noticed that Ruyi had come to the side of the field at some point.

He didn't know how long he had been watching him being bullied by this group of youngsters.

"You came at the right time." Feng Rugu didn't mind. Panting, he rushed to the side of the field and grabbed Ruyi's sleeve, shaking it, shamelessly looking for reinforcements, "Great Master, help me deal with them."

Feng Rugu used to teach his little Hongchen how to play cuju.

In this regard, he had never had much of a sense of shame.

...I can't beat you guys, but can't I call my son to deal with you?

When Ruyi saw him running off the field, he was momentarily nervous and immediately put away the handkerchief he was holding in his palm, intending to hand it to him to wipe his sweat.

When Feng Rugu made his request, Ruyi realized he hadn't noticed his intention to give him the handkerchief, and felt slightly relieved. He nodded slightly, then took off his monk's robe, revealing a short garment underneath.

He had broad shoulders and a slender waist. Coupled with his outstanding appearance, he was actually able to wear the short garment with a bold air.