Ch129 - Disrespectful Old Man

Ying Jianhua had originally planned to send Su Hansheng to Wendao Academy for classes, but seeing him babbling “Xiaoxiao” like a child, he could only take him and Xu Nanxian back to Yingxu Sect.

The painted boat sailed for a full day, first dropping off Gong Handan and Zhuang Lingxiu, and finally landing at Yingxu Sect as the sun set.

All this time, Xu Nanxian still hadn’t processed the news that Master was still alive.

After stepping off the boat, he kept muttering, “Sixteen years! Ah? Died… ah? Ah? Master?!”

Ying Jianhua: “…”

Ying Jianhua finally slapped Xu Nanxian on the back of the head, snapping him out of it.

“Senior Brother!” Xu Nanxian protested. “Why didn’t you tell me Master was still alive? Can you just keep something like that secret?!”

Ying Jianhua lazily raised an eyebrow.

Xu Nanxian instantly reined in his anger. He was afraid of getting beaten in front of Su Hansheng and losing face, so he nervously cleared his throat and whispered, “Forgive me, Senior Brother. I spoke out of turn.”

Ying Jianhua took Su Hansheng’s hand. “Go find Elder Xie.”

Xu Nanxian quickly nodded.

Ying Jianhua added, “Have him bring the sect’s physicians.”

Xu Nanxian asked, “Is Senior Brother injured?”

“No,” Ying Jianhua said, glancing at Su Hansheng, who was curiously looking around while clinging to his arm. He rubbed his temples in frustration. “Xiaoxiao seems to have lost his wits.”

Xu Nanxian gasped in shock.

Xiaoxiao really had lost his wits.

The physician from Yingxu Sect was a master from Shangyuan Prefecture, renowned for his skill. He examined Su Hansheng’s pulse for half a day, staring at the childlike Su Hansheng, and finally bowed to Ying Jianhua.

“Dao Lord, I… I’m afraid I can’t help.”

Ying Jianhua was alarmed. “How can you be helpless? A healthy person suddenly loses his wits—there must be some reason!”

The physician stammered, “The young master is physically unharmed, and his consciousness is stable. There’s no sign of injury.”

In short, he couldn’t diagnose anything.

Ying Jianhua’s face turned green.

Su Hansheng sat obediently on the bed, looking from one person to another. He wasn’t afraid of Ying Jianhua’s cold face, swaying his body and solemnly repeating what others said.

“The young master is physically unharmed, his consciousness is stable! Gugu!”

Ying Jianhua frowned and stepped out to talk with the physician.

Xu Nanxian had been watching from the side. Seeing his senior brother leave, he quickly leaned over and pinched Su Hansheng’s cheek, incredulous. “What’s going on? Have you truly lost your wits, or are you pretending to avoid getting beaten for something you did with the World-Honored One?”

Su Hansheng looked at him, confused.

Xu Nanxian, seeing that blank, innocent gaze, suddenly felt a chill.

He had truly lost his wits.

Xu Nanxian sat on the bed, sighing as he stroked Su Hansheng’s head. At least now his senior brother and Master were back, and the World-Honored One was around. There had to be a way.

Ying Jianhua saw the physician off, his brow never relaxing. When he came back in, he asked casually, “What were you talking about?”

Xu Nanxian quickly stood up to make room for his senior brother. “Nothing, just chatting.”

Su Hansheng understood Ying Jianhua’s question and immediately repeated Xu Nanxian’s words in a clear voice.

“… truly lost your wits, or are you pretending to avoid getting beaten for something you did with the World-Honored One…”

Xu Nanxian: “???”

Ying Jianhua sensed something was off and gave Xu Nanxian a cold, sharp look.

Su Hansheng was too addled to say something so coherent. He was obviously just parroting.

“Xu Bubei,” Ying Jianhua said in a chilling tone, “what do you mean by ‘something with the World-Honored One’? What do you know?”

Xu Nanxian: “…”

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Xu Nanxian quickly caught him. “Senior Brother, calm down!”

Ying Jianhua trembled, pointing at Su Hansheng, almost shouting, “Su… Han… Sheng!”

Xu Nanxian grabbed his senior brother’s waist and pushed him out. “Senior Brother, calm down! Beating him won’t help!”

Ying Jianhua didn’t beat Su Hansheng, but he did beat Xu Nanxian. “Who told you to touch me?”

Xu Nanxian: “…”

Ying Jianhua slapped him on the back of the head again. “You knew about this all along and never told me?!”

Xu Nanxian: “…”

Xu Nanxian held his head, sulking silently.

Su Hansheng, no longer afraid of his senior brother, watched the two bicker and get beaten, thought it was hilarious, and laughed, “Senior Brother, calm down, Senior Brother, calm down, hahaha.”

Ying Jianhua was so angry he felt pain in his chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to hit Su Hansheng, who didn’t understand anything. He could only weakly say, “Go… go fetch Master back to the sect immediately.”

He simply had to report it.

Su Hansheng was audacious, but could the World-Honored One really bring himself to punish a child he once held?

What kind of fox friends had Master made?

But before Xu Nanxian could go, Su Xuanlin, who had delivered Chongjue back to Kunlun, returned to the sect at his leisure.

The Yingxu Sect, seeing their long-dead sect leader alive, was thrown into chaos. Even the usually composed Xie Zhizhi dropped his teacup, nearly in tears.

When Su Xuanlin had died, Xu Nanxian was only about ten years old. After so many years, seeing his master again, he didn’t know what to feel, standing there secretly watching, strangely afraid to approach.

But Su Xuanlin, spotting him, raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Nanxian, you’ve grown so big?”

The familiar voice, the familiar aura, stirred up long-buried memories in Xu Nanxian. The word “Master” finally felt real.

Ying Jianhua had intended to angrily report the matter to Su Xuanlin and scold the World-Honored One for his disrespect, but after his anger faded, he forced himself to suppress the urge.

Never mind. Master had just returned; it was best not to stir up trouble.

At this moment, Su Hansheng was addled, and there was no way to treat it. He’d deal with the scolding when the World-Honored One came to Yingxu Sect himself.

“Master,” Ying Jianhua bowed and cautiously asked, “Where is the World-Honored One?”

Su Xuanlin, in his youth, had a wilder temper than Su Hansheng. Thousands of years of cultivation had given him the bearing and calm of a great cultivator, his blue robes making him look like an immortal.

But when he spoke to those close to him, his true nature sometimes showed.

“He’s soaking in the cold pool atop Kunlun Mountain,” Su Xuanlin said casually. “He should be back in three or four days. I didn’t want to freeze there, so I came back first.”

Ying Jianhua frowned.

Su Xuanlin looked around. “Has Xiaoxiao returned?”

Ying Jianhua hesitated, unsure whether to mention his addled state or the matter with the World-Honored One.

Su Xuanlin misunderstood, lightly rubbing his fingers together, his face calm and dignified, the air of an elder.

“Is the child still holding a grudge against me?”

Ying Jianhua: “Uh, not really.”

The child probably didn’t even know what “grudge” meant anymore.

Su Xuanlin noticed Ying Jianhua’s odd expression and quickly took the hint, smoothing his wide sleeves.

“Ahem, I suppose I’ll go see him, then.”

Though Su Hansheng was addled, he learned quickly. In just half a day, he had progressed from parroting to speaking in halting sentences.

When Su Xuanlin arrived at Hanmang garden, Su Hansheng was sitting on a swing built by Changkong, swinging his legs and smiling as he struggled to talk with Changkong.

The companion tree, now sprouting tender green shoots, stood in the courtyard. Sunlight filtered through the branches, falling on the boy’s jade-like face, making him look like a lively spirit.

Su Xuanlin paused when he saw him.

After returning from Infinite Hell, though his body had been controlled by the false Heaven’s Will, he had secretly watched Su Hansheng and knew of his resentment and rejection.

Seeing Su Hansheng happily playing, Su Xuanlin felt a moment of fear—would the boy’s smile turn to familiar hatred if he approached?

Ying Jianhua hesitated. “Master?”

Su Xuanlin paused for only a moment, then quickly recovered, striding forward and thinking, “If you hate me, there’s nothing I can do. Who else is your father?”

He walked up, grabbed the rope of the swing Su Hansheng was happily playing on, and looked down at him. “Get up. Let me have a turn.”

Su Hansheng: “?”

Ying Jianhua’s face turned green.

Su Hansheng looked at him curiously. Like a newborn child, he understood nothing of human affairs. He did whatever others told him, obediently saying “Oh” and getting up to let Su Xuanlin have the swing.

Su Xuanlin sat down without hesitation and cheekily said, “Call me ‘Father’ and let me hear it.”

Su Hansheng, unafraid of people, called out, “Father.”

Su Xuanlin: “…”

Su Xuanlin immediately sensed something was wrong and looked at Ying Jianhua. “What happened to him?”

Ying Jianhua honestly replied, “He’s about as sharp as a three- or four-year-old, with no memory. Master, see if you can help him recover.”

He still had to attend classes, and the beatings he deserved couldn’t be avoided.

Su Xuanlin frowned and beckoned Su Hansheng over.

Su Hansheng obediently walked over, squatting when told, raising his left hand when asked.

Su Xuanlin checked his pulse, feeling complex.

Young Su Xiaoxiao had never been this obedient. He’d rather be close to a Buddhist cultivator than acknowledge him. Anyone who didn’t know would think Chongjue was his real father.

A son this obedient—he’d never seen one before.

Su Xuanlin quickly finished checking his pulse and relaxed. “No major problems. His mind will recover in time. His memories aren’t sealed. If he wants to fully recover, it depends on his own will. Well, let fate decide.”

Ying Jianhua looked oddly at his master, who was pinching Su Hansheng’s cheek, wondering if he just wanted more time with such a well-behaved son.

Master seemed a bit disrespectful too.

No wonder he was friends with the World-Honored One—birds of a feather.

—

Far away on Kunlun Mountain, Chongjue spent five full days finally forming a human shape from the jade pendant.

He stood, wrapping himself in white robes, strangely feeling his ears tingle.

It was as if someone was cursing him.

Chongjue smiled wryly, guessing Su Hansheng must have been missing him terribly these past few days.

He thought Su Hansheng should be at Wendao Academy, but as soon as he flew down the mountain, he sensed the Buddhist beads he’d given Su Hansheng were at Yingxu Sect.

After the Wendao Festival, shouldn’t he be at the academy? Why had he gone home?

Could it be because of Su Xuanlin?

Chongjue didn’t think much of it and instantly teleported to Yingxu Sect.

Su Xuanlin had already sensed his presence and rose to greet him into the sect.

Chongjue, not bothering with pleasantries, asked directly, “Why isn’t Xiaoxiao at the academy? Did you keep him here?”

Su Xuanlin nearly answered, then swallowed his words and sighed, “Is that really how you see me?”

“Yes,” Chongjue said bluntly. “Who knows what hateful things you’d do to get closer to Xiaoxiao?”

Su Xuanlin: “…”

Su Xuanlin ground his teeth, forcing a polite smile.

“You’re right. I am that kind of person. The World-Honored One sees through me.”

Chongjue, seeing Su Xuanlin’s pained expression, felt a pang of pity and sighed. “Shall I say a few good words for you in front of Xiaoxiao?”

Su Xuanlin smiled without warmth. “By all means, World-Honored One.”

The World-Honored One said it was a small matter.

Chongjue easily made his way to Hanmang garden.

Xiaoxiao was practicing swordplay in the courtyard.

Though his father Su Xuanlin had entered the Dao through the sword, Xiaoxiao had never practiced sword techniques before. He found it tiring and boring, never touching a blade, preferring archery.

Dressed in blue, his waist cinched tightly, his figure long and lithe like a dragon, Xiaoxiao wielded Su Xuanlin’s own sword, weaving through falling leaves, surprisingly skillful.

Chongjue’s brow twitched.

Su Xuanlin had said he was still trying to get closer to Xiaoxiao, yet now Xiaoxiao was already practicing with his sword?

Was that not close?

After Xiaoxiao finished, Su Xuanlin called out, “Xiaoxiao, come here.”

Xiaoxiao sheathed his sword, glanced over, his eyes brightening, and happily ran over.

Chongjue instinctively reached out to catch him.

… but Xiaoxiao ran straight to Su Xuanlin, eyes crinkling as he said, “Father.”

Chongjue froze.

Su Xuanlin gently removed a leaf from Xiaoxiao’s hair and said calmly, “Xiaoxiao, this is your father’s friend. You should call him Uncle.”

Obediently, Xiaoxiao bowed to Chongjue as a junior. “Uncle.”

Chongjue, seeing Xiaoxiao’s expression and the utterly unfamiliar look in his eyes, finally realized something was wrong. His brow furrowed sharply.

“Xiaoxiao?”

Su Xuanlin handed Xiaoxiao a sugar figurine protected by spiritual energy, speaking gently, “Good boy, go eat it over there.”

Xiaoxiao happily took it and scampered off to munch.

Chongjue said coldly, “What’s going on?”

“The aftereffects of the phoenix bone’s separation. He’ll recover in time,” Su Xuanlin said, surprised by Chongjue’s strong reaction. “Why do you look so pale?”

He’s just an uncle.

Chongjue’s gaze lingered on Xiaoxiao, feeling as if his newly repaired jade pendant was cracking again. Xiaoxiao’s unfamiliar eyes, so light and distant, sent a sharp pain through his heart, one that wouldn’t subside.

“Nothing.”

Su Xuanlin, unaware of their secret, simply thought Chongjue was unusually fond of a junior.

He smiled faintly, throwing Chongjue’s earlier words right back at him, “Shall I say a few good words for you in front of Xiaoxiao?”

Chongjue: “…”

***