"..."
Looking at the pile of shattered fragments on the ground, Haru couldn't tell what it had been—it was completely pulverized.
But judging by the scattered mechanical parts, it was probably some kind of modern tech gadget.
Serves him right.
Had this kid forgotten that the Sect Leader was an extreme naturalist, which was why she lived secluded in these mountains without electricity?
He'd been warned before, yet he still dared to bring this stuff here?
Who knew if it was a phone or a game console—whatever it was, he'd gotten his beating for it.
Plop—
Right as Haru was sitting beside the Sect Leader, watching the drama unfold, a pale, delicate hand stretched toward him, holding a vibrant, fragrant peach—one so large it dwarfed an adult's fist.
Just the scent alone was enough to make anyone's mouth water.
As for why there were ripe peaches when the peach blossoms had just started blooming?
That didn't matter. What mattered was that this had been Haru's daily meal for the past year.
One was enough to keep him full for the entire day, no matter how grueling his training or physical exertion was.
Without a doubt, it was a treasure among natural wonders.
Maybe not quite on the level of the mythical Peaches of Immortality, but its body-strengthening effects were undeniably rare and precious.
Still, no matter how fragrant and delicious, eating the same thing every day got old.
Crunch—
Not one to refuse the Sect Leader's kindness, Haru took the peach and bit into it.
Instantly, the burst of sweetness, paired with a subtle tang, created a refreshing richness on his tongue.
How to describe it? The tender flesh, the abundant juice—
In just one bite, his spirits lifted, his energy surged, and his stamina peaked, as if he'd downed some legendary revitalizing elixir.
After devouring it in a few quick bites, the satisfying fullness and the rush of power flooding his body brought his focus to its absolute peak.
"Full?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Go train."
"Got it."
"..."
After a year together, Haru had grown used to the Sect Leader's temperament.
Outside of battle, she wasn't naive or detached from the world—just incredibly aloof.
But her coldness wasn't the icy demeanor of a stoic beauty; it was more like the untouchable elegance of a flower atop a high peak.
...Except when it came to him.
Just now, she had prepared his food, watched him eat, and—ignoring the still-kneeling disciple—pulled out a handkerchief to gently wipe his cheek before standing up.
Swish—
In the next second, her graceful figure vanished from the hall in a flicker of movement.
Apart from the faint trace of her unique fragrance, Haru—even with his sharpened vision—couldn't track how she had left.
Thud—
Then came the sound of something heavy hitting the floor.
It was Lu Yinghua, who had been kneeling on the ground. The moment the Sect Leader left, he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, finally able to breathe again.
Gasping for air, his face drenched in sweat, he looked utterly disheveled—but right now, he couldn't care less. To him, it felt like he'd just narrowly escaped the gates of hell, his eyes filled with nothing but relief and gratitude.
Relief, because he'd survived. Gratitude? Well, that was obviously because of Haru.
If not for Haru's presence, today's punishment wouldn't have been just a beating and some kneeling. No, he'd have been knocked unconscious at least a few more times.
Just thinking about it made Lu Yinghua shudder, a wave of post-crisis euphoria washing over him.
"Was it really that bad? And hey, Old Lu, you okay?"
"Hah—hah… Y-yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, Little Shishu."
"Uh, just 'Shishu' is fine. Why'd you have to add 'little'?"
"You tell me."
"Alright, alright. So what if I call you 'Old Lu'? Being this petty won't make girls like you, y'know~"
"Tch. Good. Women are nothing but—"
"Nothing but what?"
"Glare—"
With the Sect Leader gone, Lu Yinghua—who had been acting obedient and meek just moments ago—finally managed to struggle to his feet, already bantering with Haru the second he caught his breath.
But the moment the topic shifted to women, the sheer disdain and disgust in Lu Yinghua's eyes made Haru sigh inwardly.
'This kid's a lost cause.'
Despite having the kind of cute looks that girls usually fawn over, years of being "trained" (beaten) by the Sect Leader had twisted him into a scheming, misogynistic mess. The more beautiful and capable a woman was, the more hostile he became.
Case in point: right now, his face was deathly pale, his body drenched in sweat, and he could barely walk straight—all clear signs of the Sect Leader's "lessons."
And yet, the second she left, he was grinning like an idiot, just happy he hadn't gotten even more punishment.
'Poor guy. Beaten half to death and still celebrating?'
Sometimes, Haru couldn't help but wonder if the Sect Leader's disciple had some hidden masochistic tendencies.
Then again, given how casually he took it—even finding the energy to bicker and complain—this must've been a regular occurrence.
And honestly? It made sense.
In the year since Haru had transmigrated here, Lu Yinghua's daily routine consisted of either getting beaten up or being on his way to get beaten up.
Thanks to that, despite his young age, he'd become frighteningly strong—proof that "strict teachers create exceptional disciples."
…Even if it came with a side of severe gynophobia.
"Let's go."
"Hah… Yeah."
Seeing that Lu Yinghua would live, Haru grabbed a peach from the table and tossed it to him.
Not only did one of these peaches keep you full for a whole day, but they also had healing properties. Combined with Lu Yinghua's own resilience, his "near-death" state from a second ago was already fading fast.
And that was exactly why the Sect Leader's training philosophy was:
"As long as it doesn't kill you, train until you wish it did."
After just a year here, Haru had already gained a deep appreciation for Lu Yinghua's suffering—and the Sect Leader's terror.
If not for the fact that she showed him a gentler side, he'd probably have ended up just as broken as Lu Yinghua.
Why?
Simple. You'd be scared shitless too if you got beaten by her every day.
By the way, Old Lu—how's that thing I asked you to look into going?"
"Look into? Oh, you mean that Japanese guy?" Lu Yinghua frowned, scratching his head. "I had my family investigate, but there's nothing special about him. Just some ordinary middle schooler. Totally average… though his grandfather's another story."
"Is that so?" Haru's fingers tapped impatiently against his knee. "What grade's he in now?"
"Third year of middle school, I think? Wait no—once the new term starts, he'll be a high schooler."
"Huh? Seriously?!"
"Uh… why the big reaction?" Lu Yinghua blinked, taken aback by Haru's sudden intensity. "He's just some nobody. Did you have a grudge with him or something?"
"It's nothing…" Haru muttered, already lost in thought. "Japan uses a three-term system, right? Which means he's on spring break now—"
"...???"
Ignoring Lu Yinghua's bewildered stare, Haru clenched his fists, a sense of urgency tightening in his chest.
This isn't good.
He couldn't let things play out like they did in the original story.