After eating.
Zhang Rongfang stood up to leave, bid farewell to Zhang Qingzhi, and returned to his small building to continue practicing the Cultivation of Literature.
After all, even if he didn't want his cultivation to improve too quickly, he still had to put on an appearance.
The Celestial Venerable's medical skills were profound; whether he practiced or not might be discerned.
So he had to maintain appearances.
Just returned to the small building.
As soon as Zhang Rongfang entered, he saw Yue Dewen in a corner on the first floor, hands behind his back, admiring his own painting.
"Ah… you're back?" Yue Dewen stroked his beard, turning to face him with a smile.
"How's it going? Are you getting used to life recently? Have you quarreled with your fellow disciples? Have you been practicing diligently? Are you eating well?"
"…Where did you learn this tone as if you're looking after a child...?" Zhang Rongfang was speechless, but he quickly paid his respects.
