The last time Chongjue had truly gotten angry was when he’d whipped him with a vine.
Su Hansheng thought back to what he’d said, but he hadn’t said anything lewd or suggestive. Why was the monk angry?
But it was hard to get Chongjue to be proactive, so Su Hansheng skillfully reached up and put his arms around Chongjue’s shoulders, leaning his whole body against him.
This was a gesture of complete trust, but for some reason, it irritated Chongjue. An invisible spiritual force gathered in the air, forming a wind rope that forcibly bound Su Hansheng’s wrists, restraining him.
—It seemed he didn’t want him to respond so easily.
Su Hansheng frowned, forced to endure the forceful kiss.
After a moment, Chongjue let him go, and the invisible wind rope vanished, leaving no trace.
Chongjue acted as if nothing had happened and calmly continued discussing the previous topic. “The Heaven-Reaching Tower has shown signs of collapse for the past sixteen years. There’s no need to worry too much.”
Su Hansheng wasn’t worried at all. He looked at Chongjue’s deliberately calm face for a long time before giving a fake smile. “World-Honored One, what was that just now? Am I making you jealous by always talking about my previous life?”
Chongjue had already composed himself, appearing completely unperturbed. “I don’t care about previous life matters.”
But he didn’t directly answer the question about jealousy.
Su Hansheng snorted, not pressing further. “Fine, World-Honored One, you meditate. I have something to do outside.”
In the past, Chongjue never asked where Su Hansheng was going. This time, he surprisingly asked, “Where to?”
“Red Maple Forest,” Su Hansheng casually replied as he put on his outer robe. “Senior Brother Lingge hasn’t come to see me in half a month. I don’t know if he’s transformed, so I need to check.”
Chongjue’s brow furrowed slightly. Seeing Su Hansheng about to leave, he said, “Zhuang Lingge isn’t at Wendao Academy.”
Su Hansheng paused, his hand on the carved wooden door of the Buddha Hall. “How do you know?”
Chongjue said, “He went back to Banqing Prefecture and won’t return for a few days.”
The World-Honored One had never lied before, so Su Hansheng didn’t think much of it. “Oh, that’s fine.”
Today, finally free from homework, Su Hansheng happily lingered by Chongjue’s side, resting his head on his thigh and watching him quietly recite scriptures. He found it very interesting.
Before, when he hadn’t fallen for him, he thought it was boring to see Chongjue sit in the Buddha Hall all day.
Now, everything seemed beautiful through the eyes of love.
Chongjue recited scriptures and meditated, while Su Hansheng idly played with the jade pendant Chongjue had given him.
But before he could touch it twice, Chongjue suddenly opened his eyes, looking down at him with a slightly uncomfortable expression.
“There’s no homework today. Don’t you want to go out and play?”
Su Hansheng didn’t notice Chongjue’s oddness and lazily replied, “I’ve been in class for half a month. Isn’t it nice to sit with you for a bit?”
Chongjue stared at Su Hansheng’s hand still stroking the jade, his ear tips gradually turning red. He secretly regretted giving him this item. “Even though the Wendao Festival is temporarily canceled, there will be a market tonight at the Separate Years Market.”
Su Hansheng had attended the Wendao Festival three times and naturally knew the Separate Years Market would be lively tonight.
He looked up at Chongjue’s eyes. “Will you go with me?”
Su Hansheng looked at him eagerly and called, “Uncle.”
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Su Hansheng grabbed his “Senior Brother Wen,” and happily headed to the Separate Years Market.
Most people didn’t know the Wendao Festival secret realm couldn’t be opened. The long street was bustling with shoppers buying supplies for the secret realm trials, a peaceful scene.
Su Hansheng didn’t need to buy anything. He was just stir-crazy from being cooped up in the academy and wanted to get some fresh air.
Chongjue disliked crowds, so Su Hansheng took him straight to the Long Night Tower and booked a private room.
Su Hansheng ordered drinks from the waiter and chatted with Chongjue about the funny things that had happened over the past three years.
Chongjue listened with a gentle smile, but Su Hansheng had a habit—whenever he got absorbed, his hand would unconsciously reach up to stroke the jade hanging from his neck. Before long, Chongjue’s whole body began to feel hot.
Suddenly, Chongjue said, “The last time we came here, that cold tea seemed pretty good.”
The World-Honored One rarely asked for anything, so Su Hansheng immediately stood up, serious. “Then wait here, I’ll buy you a bunch.”
Chongjue had only wanted to distract Su Hansheng from fiddling with the jade, but seeing Su Hansheng’s enthusiasm, he stood up too. “Then I’ll go with you…”
“No, no!” Su Hansheng knew he hated the noise outside. He pushed Chongjue back into his seat and ran out happily. “Just stay here. I’ll be right back.”
With that, he dashed out of the Long Night Tower.
Goods at the Separate Years Market changed every year. The cold tea from three years ago was no longer popular, and Su Hansheng had to search the whole street before finally buying a few cups. He was about to head back to the Long Night Tower when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar figure at the entrance of a nearby alley.
Su Hansheng approached, puzzled, and finally recognized the face.
Su Hansheng was confused. After his coming-of-age ceremony, Qifu Zhao had said he was going to the Western Corner. Why was he here now?
Was he here for the Wendao Festival?
Su Hansheng was about to go over and greet him when he saw Qifu Zhao’s usually gentle face twist with disgust, radiating an aura of irritation and gloom.
It was definitely Qifu Zhao’s face, even the scar on his neck matched his memory.
Su Hansheng sensed something was wrong and quietly stepped aside.
Qifu Zhao seemed to be waiting for someone, his whole body brimming with impatience. Soon, a figure in a black robe approached him through the bustling street.
The robe was so wide it was impossible to tell if the person was male or female.
After a brief exchange, the two quickly walked into the alley.
Su Hansheng frowned, lightly rubbing the protective Buddhist beads on his wrist and the Sumeru mustard seed on his finger. Confirming he could hide his presence, he quietly followed.
Somehow, his approach went unnoticed by Qifu Zhao and the black-robed figure, who remained unaware as Su Hansheng hid in the shadows nearby.
Qifu Zhao’s eyes were cold, his voice impatient. “Self-preservation? Do you really think the Gong family can protect you?”
The black-robed figure remained silent.
Qifu Zhao sneered, “The Heaven-Reaching Tower is about to collapse. As a sacred object, you can’t escape. The Phoenix Bone can stand aside because he has powerful backing. What about you?”
How did Qifu Zhao know about the sacred objects?
Finally, the black-robed figure lifted his wide hood, revealing a face Su Hansheng knew all too well.
Gong Handan, who should have been far away at the Gong family, was here in the Separate Years Market, seemingly close with Qifu Zhao.
Su Hansheng finally realized—the person before him wasn’t Qifu Zhao. He had been possessed.
The familiar tone and manner, combined with the fact that only the Fulí clan could perform possession, made his identity clear—it was Qifu Yin, that eye-gouging madman.
Su Hansheng silently bit his finger, suppressing his racing heart. His first instinct was to run.
He could hide his presence and follow Qifu Zhao, but he couldn’t risk facing Qifu Yin, the man who wanted his eyes. Better to escape quickly.
Qifu Yin’s voice was full of frustration. “The Heaven-Reaching Tower’s collapse is just a ruse. If you follow me to the Heaven-Reaching Tower, after the four sacred objects activate the formation…”
A bolt of lightning struck, barely blocked.
Qifu Yin nearly jumped out of his skin, cursing loudly, “Su Xuanlin! Is Heaven’s Will your father, that you rush to do his bidding?!”
Su Hansheng, who had been sneaking away, froze.
The information was overwhelming. Su Hansheng’s head spun, feeling like the older generation was secretly plotting something. Qifu Yin, Chongjue—both were involved.
Gong Handan, now fluent and composed, her eyes cold, spoke calmly. “The previous three sacred objects died by your hand.”
Qifu Yin, already furious, laughed coldly. “Nonsense.”
Gong Handan said, “Two thousand years ago, you were the only one who survived.”
Qifu Yin sneered, “Don’t play games with me. If you believed that crap, you wouldn’t have come all this way to find me. Your predecessor, the Silver-Carved Lamp, was my senior sister. You’re just like her—always beating around the bush.”
Gong Handan tilted her head, finally getting to the point. “What do you want me to do?”
“Be bait,” Qifu Yin said bluntly. “Enter the Heaven-Reaching Tower, activate the formation inside, and once we expose the one behind the destruction of the Heaven-Reaching Tower, you don’t need to do anything else.”
Gong Handan: “Do you need all four sacred objects?”
Gong Handan seemed about to ask something else when Qifu Yin’s amber eyes suddenly narrowed, as if sensing something. He swiftly raised his hand, sending out a cold, sinister talisman.
Ten talismans on Su Hansheng’s fingers were already prepared. They suddenly flared up, turning into streaks of light that collided head-on with the incoming talisman.
With a bang, the talismans exploded, shattering into fragments that drifted down like snowflakes.
Su Hansheng deliberately revealed himself, stepping out from the corner with a mischievous grin. He squinted and called sweetly, “Uncle, what a coincidence.”
Qifu Yin’s brow almost knotted into a single line. He coldly withdrew his hand. “What are you doing here? Looking for death?”
“Unfair,” Su Hansheng said innocently. “I just saw Sister Handan and came to say hello—Sister, good evening. Want some cold tea?”
Gong Handan didn’t look cold in front of Su Hansheng. She nodded slightly. “Yes.”
Su Hansheng happily stepped forward and handed her one of the seven or eight cups of cold tea he’d bought.
Qifu Yin glanced at the cold tea, disgusted. “Get lost. Pretend you didn’t hear anything.”
Su Hansheng, now extremely obedient, nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, I’ll leave right away.”
Qifu Yin’s sour expression finally softened.
But soon, he sensed something was off.
The body he was possessing belonged to Qifu Zhao. For years, they had been close friends, seeing each other almost daily at the academy.
Why hadn’t Qifu Zhao attacked him when he discovered he was using the “possession forbidden art”? Why was he sweetly calling him “uncle”?
Had this little brat changed?
As Qifu Yin hesitated, Su Hansheng, about to turn and leave, used the movement to hide his hand. He lightly brushed the Sumeru mustard seed on his finger.
The next instant, Qifu Yin’s pupils widened. A phantom white bone chain suddenly appeared on his limbs, controlled by someone, and violently slammed his body against the wall.
Qifu Yin sprawled out, bound to the wall by the chain, deeply embedded with a human-shaped imprint, unable to move even a finger.
“You!” Qifu Yin’s eyes seemed to blaze. “Su Xiaoxiao—do you want to die?!”
Su Hansheng was only testing if the Sumeru mustard seed could control the chain on Qifu Yin’s body. He hadn’t expected it to work as well as it did with Chongjue.
So his fake father’s chain could be used in two ways.
No wonder he was a Celestial Lord.
Su Hansheng’s heart pounded, but he didn’t show it. He casually wiped the sweat from his forehead and calmly said, “Uncle, why get so angry? Shouldn’t you be proud and praise your nephew for being so capable?”