叶尘蹲在村口那棵歪脖子老槐树下，手里攥着半根冰棍，吧唧吧唧啃着。阳光把他的影子拉得老长，在青石板上画出一个模糊的形状。

他今年十六岁，身板瘦得像根豆芽菜，站在那儿都得踮着脚尖才看得见。村里人看着他，眼珠子转得比谁都快。

“哟，叶家小子，又偷懒不干活？”一个扎着鸡窝头的中年女人叼着旱烟杆，唾沫星子噼里啪啦砸下来。

叶尘头也不抬，继续啃冰棍。他娘走得早，爹又是个烂赌鬼，整日里懵懵懂懂，家里的地，几间破瓦房，全是他和奶奶相依为命。这天，他拽着奶奶的老手，往镇上走去。

“奶奶，我想去镇上……”

“不去！家里地还没除草呢！”

“就……就一会儿！”叶尘磨着牙，眼巴巴地望着奶奶。

奶奶叹口气，声音像蚊子哼哼：“行吧，去了就早点回来，晚上给你炖排骨！”

叶尘眼睛瞬间放光，撒丫子就跑。

Reached the town, the air didn't seem any fresher, but the streets were lively. Merchants shouted, customers jostled, and the smell of cooking filled the air. Leaf Chen's heart was like a bird out of a cage, beating wildly. He saw in the distance a signboard that read: "Heavenly Path Cultivation Chamber."

He didn't know what a "Heavenly Path" was, but the words "cultivation" and "chamber" made him feel like he had found the secret to becoming a fairy. He hurried over and squeezed through the crowd until he stood in front of the signboard.