Chapter 57: The grandparent gauntlet
Li Ming had a bad feeling the moment his mother started packing extra buns.
"Where are we going this time?" he asked weakly.
"To see your grandparents," she said with a smile that sent shivers down his spine.
Li Ming froze. "No. Absolutely not. They’re worse than uncles and aunts combined!"
His father patted his shoulder. "A cultivator must face their greatest fears. For you, that’s family visits."
Li Ming nearly cried.
---
The grandparents’ house sat at the edge of the village, old but majestic. Vines grew along the walls, and the front yard had a giant chicken coop. The chickens inside stared at Li Ming like they remembered Chapter 1.
He shivered. "This place is cursed."
Before he could escape, the door creaked open, and out came Grandma Li, small but sharp-eyed, leaning on her cane like it was a sword.
"My grandson!" she shouted, voice louder than thunder.
Then came Grandpa Li, tall and skinny, with a long white beard he stroked every five seconds. "Ah, the boy who fought a chicken and split the heavens!"
Li Ming’s face turned red. "It was a rock, not the heavens!"
But they didn’t listen. They dragged him inside, their grip stronger than iron.
---
The living room smelled like herbs, tea, and old secrets.
Grandma Li made him sit down while she pinched his arms. "So skinny! Are they starving you at the sect? Do you even eat?"
"I eat plenty!" Li Ming argued.
"Then why are you still shorter than the neighbor’s goat?" she snapped.
Li Ming coughed blood internally.
Meanwhile, Grandpa Li paced around him like an examiner at the sect. "Tell me, boy. How strong are you now? Show me!"
Li Ming hesitated. "Do I really have to—"
"Yes!"
Before he could argue, Grandpa shoved a huge jar of pickles into his hands. "Lift it!"
Li Ming barely managed to raise it above his head. His arms shook like noodles.
"Not bad," Grandpa muttered. "But when I was your age, I carried two of those on each shoulder while chasing wild boars."
Li Ming almost dropped the jar. "Grandpa, I don’t need your tragic backstory right now!"
---
Then came the worst part.
Grandma Li called for Li Mei. "Little one! Bring the memory box!"
Li Ming’s eyes widened in horror. "No. Not the memory box."
Li Mei ran in with a big wooden chest and a devilish grin. "This is going to be good."
Grandma opened it and pulled out... a baby photo of Li Ming wearing nothing but a chicken feather hat.
"Grandma, please!" Li Ming begged.
But she ignored him and showed everyone. "Look at him! He used to run around the yard chasing pigs like this!"
Li Mei laughed so hard she fell on the floor. His parents nodded proudly. Even Grandpa chuckled.
Li Ming covered his face. "I’m ruined. My reputation is dead."
---
Dinner was next, and Li Ming thought maybe things would calm down. He was wrong.
Grandpa slammed his chopsticks on the table. "Tonight, I’ll test your drinking ability!"
Li Ming’s soul trembled. "Not again..."
Grandpa brought out an ancient jug of wine. "This has been aging for thirty years. If you can drink three cups, you’re a true man."
Li Ming wanted to crawl into a hole. "Grandpa, I don’t—"
But the family cheered, "Drink! Drink! Drink!"
With no choice, he gulped the first cup. Fire burned down his throat. His vision blurred.
The second cup made him hiccup so loudly the chickens outside crowed back.
The third cup made him slam his face into the table. "I... am... immortal..." he mumbled before passing out.
The entire family laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks.
---
When Li Ming woke up later, his head pounding, Grandma was standing over him with a jar of strange medicine.
"Drink this. It’ll make you strong."
Li Ming sat up. "What is it?"
"Pickle juice."
He fainted again.
---
The next morning, Grandpa gave him a wooden sword. "Train with me before you leave. I’ll teach you the Li Family Secret Technique."
Li Ming groaned. "Do I have to?"
"Yes! The world must know of the ’Grandpa Slap Style!’"
Grandpa swung his hand so fast it created a gust of wind that blew Li Ming’s hair back.
Li Ming’s jaw dropped. "...Okay, that’s actually terrifying."
Grandpa grinned. "Now your turn!"
Li Ming slapped at the air. A weak breeze came out, barely enough to move a chicken feather.
Grandpa nodded seriously. "Not bad. With ten years of practice, you might blow out a candle."
Li Ming cried inside.
---
As they finally left, Grandma shoved a giant jar of pickles into his arms.
"Take this back to the sect. Share it with your friends."
Li Ming stared at it like it was cursed. "I’ll... treasure it forever..."
But in his heart, he swore he’d bury it somewhere deep, where no one would ever find it.
---
Bonus Bit – The Pickle Legend
That evening, Grandpa went to the market and bragged, "My grandson drank three cups of thirty-year-old wine and mastered the first stage of the Pickle Dao!"
By sunset, the whole village believed Li Ming was the chosen one who would one day found the Pickle Sect.
Li Ming, blissfully unaware, was already crying in his sleep.
To be continued...