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Ch145 - Wendao Festival Competition 3. Daily Life




Su Hansheng clung to Xu Nanxian, wailing about Zhuang Lingxiu’s cruelty.
When Zhuang Lingxiu did this, he’d been quite proud, bragging to Xu Nanxian about it. But now seeing the “victim” Su Hansheng so aggrieved, his conscience finally stirred, and he tried to soothe him with downcast eyes.
“Xiaoxiao, Senior Brother truly didn’t mean it. I had no idea the Ten Great Academies’ deans would be so heartless, and I never imagined it would affect you.”
Su Hansheng buried his head in Xu Nanxian’s embrace, wailing dramatically. “I didn’t get to enjoy any of the gossip, yet I still have to be punished with you all. How miserable!”
Zhuang Lingxiu quickly continued, “How about I stay at the academy your last year and help with your homework?”
Su Hansheng couldn’t even pretend to cry anymore, turning around in shock. “My father and Chongjue finally managed to break me of my lazy, troublemaking ways—and you want to corrupt me again?!”
Zhuang Lingxiu: “…”
Xu Nanxian rubbed Su Hansheng’s fluffy head while also looking disdainfully at Zhuang Lingxiu.
Zhuang Lingxiu felt deeply wronged. “I just wanted to lighten Xiaoxiao’s burden!”
“If you want to lighten my burden…” Su Hansheng said, eyes teary but face expressionless, “then tell me all the ‘gossip’ from these years.”
Zhuang Lingxiu: “…”
Xu Nanxian: “…”
Xu Nanxian grabbed Su Hansheng’s hair ornament.
Su Hansheng immediately lost his mysterious air, yelping and jumping up. “Senior Brother! Ow! That hurts!”
“Keep gossiping and I’ll tell Master,” Xu Nanxian said irritably, releasing him before turning a cold look on Zhuang Lingxiu. “And you—don’t teach him all this nonsense and corrupt him.”
Zhuang Lingxiu replied solemnly, “Yes.”
As soon as Xu Nanxian left to visit their master, Zhuang Lingxiu immediately draped an arm over Su Hansheng’s shoulder, walking him aside. “Does Xiaoxiao really want to discuss and learn with Senior Brother?”
Su Hansheng nodded. “I really want to gossip.”
“Ahem,” Zhuang Lingxiu said. “How about I set up another listening wall? You put in a good word with the Immortal Lord and the World-Honored One so Chu Fenghan doesn’t interfere—if it works out, I’ll take seventy percent and you get thirty.”
Su Hansheng was speechless. “Senior Brother, do you think I’m someone else? Your listening wall made my studies so busy last time—and now you want to do it again?”
Zhuang Lingxiu said with a smile, “Last time I lacked experience—this time I definitely won’t get caught.”
Su Hansheng wanted to gossip but didn’t want to be involved, so he refused no matter what.
Zhuang Lingxiu had to reluctantly give up.
The first day’s competition had ended. Biennial Hall set up many spiritual retreats in the surrounding area at unusually cheap rates—several people could share one to avoid the hassle of going back and forth to the academy.
Su Hansheng was originally rooming with Yuan Qian and Wu Baili, but after scrounging dinner at Su Xuanlin’s place, he discovered his father’s small reception hall was bigger than ten of his spiritual retreats combined, so he shamelessly decided to stay and not leave.
Su Xuanlin sat cross-legged lazily, gesturing for a young attendant to bring over piles of food to feed Su Hansheng.
“The competition is tomorrow. Do you have confidence?”
Su Hansheng happily nibbled on pastries from the plate, mouth stuffed full as he loudly declared, “Nope!”
Su Xuanlin: “?”
Su Xuanlin narrowed his eyes, pinning down Su Hansheng’s hand as it reached for more pastries, saying calmly, “No confidence, yet you dare be so brazen?”
Su Hansheng looked at him pitifully, trying to move him with tears. “Father, I’m choking.”
Su Xuanlin: “…”
Su Xuanlin irritably poured him warm water, and once he’d recovered, tapped the small table with his finger. “Do you still remember the sword forms I taught you recently?”
Su Hansheng nodded obediently. “I remember.”
“If you remember, you won’t lose,” Su Xuanlin said, eyeing him. “Who taught you to be so timid before even fighting?”
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“Chongjue!”
Su Xuanlin clenched his hand, crushing the porcelain cup in his palm.
Chongjue must have hurried here—he carried a sharp, frosty aura. Seeing Su Hansheng running over happily, a smile appeared between his brows as he raised his hand and caught him precisely in his arms.
Su Hansheng hadn’t seen him in days and bounced with joy. “Why were you gone so long? I thought you wouldn’t make it to see my heroic performance battling everyone tomorrow!”
Chongjue smiled, seemingly wanting to kiss him but restraining himself to spare Su Xuanlin’s heart, saying gently, “I’ve finished my business.”
Su Xuanlin sneered. “Yes, the heroic performance of making the top fifty—how could one not watch carefully?”
Su Hansheng: “…”
Had his father already given up and started attacking indiscriminately, even including him?
“You think he’s like you, obsessed with winning championships in school?” Chongjue glanced at him. “Isn’t all that striving exhausting?”
Su Xuanlin said flatly, “Who doesn’t want to be champion?”
Chongjue looked at Su Hansheng, who was used to coasting by, as if to say: Come, show your father something new.
But Su Hansheng said thoughtfully, “I also want to be champion.”
Chongjue: “…”
Seeing his son side with him against Chongjue, Su Xuanlin became smug. “That’s my son! You should aim for championship! Don’t learn from certain unambitious people with their ‘harmony is precious’ nonsense.”
Chongjue looked down at Su Hansheng.
Su Hansheng was still pondering. “If I win the championship this time, I’ll get those ten points. If I work hard, by year’s end I can clear my negative balance.”
The more he talked, the happier he got, but Su Xuanlin felt increasingly ominous.
Sure enough, Su Hansheng clapped his hands, looking delightedly at Chongjue. “Then if I graduate smoothly next year, wouldn’t I be able to register together immediately?”
Su Xuanlin: “???”
Chongjue smiled. “Indeed. Better work hard for that championship.”
But Su Xuanlin suddenly stood, saying gravely, “Xiaoxiao, I was obsessed with championships back then because I had no parents or family background—only by striving could I get ahead. But you’re different.”
Su Hansheng looked completely confused.
Su Xuanlin stepped forward, pressing his son’s shoulder with earnest paternal love. “…You’re my son, the future sect leader of Yingxu Sect. Even lying around doing nothing, you’ll live in luxury and happiness your whole life. Why not cast aside points and enjoy these peaceful days? We should value harmony over striving—isn’t all that ambition exhausting?”
Chongjue: “…”
Su Hansheng tilted his head. “That makes sense.”
Seeing Su Xuanlin confuse him until his eyes spun, Chongjue smiled faintly. “Tomorrow when the Ten Great Academies’ students compete, if Xiaoxiao only places fiftieth, you as his father and Yingxu Sect will lose face. Xiaoxiao should aim for championship and not learn from certain unambitious people.”
Su Xuanlin: “…”
Chongjue pressed Su Hansheng’s other shoulder, saying gently, “Xiaoxiao, your cultivation is close to Nascent Soul stage. Your talisman techniques and the sword forms the Immortal Lord taught you are enough to place you in the top ten. Don’t underestimate yourself.”
Su Hansheng’s eyes lit up. “That makes sense too!”
Su Xuanlin: “?”
Only now did he realize his son was a fence-sitter?
Su Xuanlin pressed Su Hansheng’s left shoulder, saying gravely, “Coast along, coast along…”
Chongjue, smiling, pressed Su Hansheng’s right shoulder. “Win the championship, win the championship…”
Su Hansheng: “…”
Su Hansheng’s head was splitting—both arguments sounded reasonable. Dizzily looking between them, he was finally saved when Yuan Qian came looking for him, rescuing him from this suffering.
He didn’t want to stay at his father’s place or go to Chongjue’s. After a few hurried words with a pounding headache, he rushed off with Yuan Qian.
Even from far away, he could still hear Su Xuanlin and Chongjue’s passive-aggressive duel of “coast along” versus “win the championship” from the spiritual retreat.
Su Hansheng was troubled. After washing up and getting into bed, he tossed and turned sleeplessly.
The spiritual retreat was tiny—three people sleeping side by side on one bed, with Su Hansheng in the middle. Every time he turned over, he disturbed the other two.
Yuan Qian rubbed his eyes, exhausted. “Young Lord, is something bothering you?”
Wu Baili was more direct, saying impatiently, “Turn over one more time and I’ll eat you like a pancake.”
Su Hansheng stared wide-eyed, saying gravely, “I’m facing a dilemma. If I don’t resolve it, I probably won’t sleep all night.”
Yuan Qian had no choice but to get up and light the lamp, sitting cross-legged wrapped in his blanket, yawning as he said, “What dilemma is so hard to solve?”
Wu Baili irritably pulled the blanket over his head, not wanting to deal with them.
Su Hansheng sat up, contemplating for a long time before saying seriously, “Tomorrow’s competition—should I aim for fiftieth place or bravely seize the championship?”
Yuan Qian and Wu Baili: “…”
As if the championship were within easy reach.
This question was too absurd. Wu Baili threw off his blanket, looking at him incredulously.
“So tonight you can’t sleep because you’re agonizing over whether to be the Young Lord of Yingxu Sect with overwhelming cultivation, power, and immortality, or a mortal with only a hundred-year lifespan—this kind of impossible choice that everyone in the Three Realms would struggle with?!”
Su Hansheng: “…”
Su Hansheng was severely choked by Wu Baili’s sarcasm, but after recovering, he was suddenly moved to tears. “So Baili seems to be mocking me, but is actually enlightening me, encouraging me to bravely choose the championship I want?!”
“No,” Wu Baili said coldly and ruthlessly. “I’m just mocking you.”
Su Hansheng: “…”
Su Hansheng’s face turned green. Unhappy, he kicked him. “What do you mean by that?”
“I’m saying, between your two choices, the reason you effortlessly pick the first is because it’s the easier one,” Wu Baili said coolly. “Between your two options, you want to instantly go for the first one, because the second is just a beautiful…”
Su Hansheng was hopeful: “…goal?”
Wu Baili: “…delusion.”
Su Hansheng: “…”
So basically, unthinkingly choosing ‘make the top fifty’ isn’t because it’s great—it’s because champion is so far out of reach it barely counts.
Wu Baili’s words left Su Hansheng’s heart aching even more, making sleep impossible.
Yuan Qian yawned and asked the key question: “Why do you suddenly want to be champion?”
Su Hansheng mumbled, “If I get those ten points, I can graduate next year and finally register with Uncle.”
Yuan Qian silently clutched his chest.
Just hearing “Uncle,” he felt it was scandalous for Su Hansheng.
Wu Baili said, “If you don’t sleep, I’ll throw you out.”
Su Hansheng hurriedly lay back down, folding his hands peacefully over his stomach, and closed his eyes.
Finally, Wu Baili’s world fell quiet.
As a light sleeper, it still took him over an hour to drift off with people beside him, but just as he was about to fall asleep, he felt someone shift next to him and scoot over, whispering, “Baili, if I really try, I think I can win the championship.”
Wu Baili: “…”
A miserable howl echoed through the small spiritual retreat.
“Ahhh! Save me—! Yuan Qian, Baili’s going to assassinate me and hide my body!”
“Oww! Let go—you pulled my pants down, don’t grab my leg!”
“No way, if we’re dying, we’re dying together… Baili! Baili, calm down! He’s starting to dig a pit—he’s really going to bury us, isn’t he?”
“It’s you! Only you are getting buried! I’m innocent!”
“…But he’s digging two holes.”
“???”
The next morning.
Not a single one of the three got any real sleep amidst the chaos; they floated listlessly to the competition grounds.
Chongjue stood by the spiritual retreat, observing Su Hansheng’s bleary expression, and called, “Xiaoxiao?”
Su Hansheng blinked for a moment before finally responding, hurrying over and clinging to Chongjue, mumbling, “I’m so tired my eyes won’t even open.”
Yuan Qian and Wu Baili woke up from their drowsiness in shock, frantically glancing around to make sure no one else saw.
Luckily, not many people dared linger near the World-Honored One’s retreat, so they breathed a sigh of relief.
Yuan Qian kept winking at Su Hansheng to take his flirting inside.
But Su Hansheng, glued to Chongjue and grumbling, didn’t see Yuan Qian’s frantic signals. In the end, it was Chongjue, having caught on, who wrapped an arm around Su Hansheng’s waist, nodded to Yuan Qian and Wu Baili, and turned to head inside.
Yuan Qian was stunned for a long time before grabbing Wu Baili’s hand, whispering, “First Immortal Lord served me tea, now the World-Honored One nodded at me—surely my ancestors’ graves are smoking with luck right now?”
Wu Baili: “…”
Once inside, Su Hansheng immediately stood on tiptoes to kiss Chongjue.
Chongjue gave him a gentle push. “Xiaoxiao, wait a bit—your father…”
“You’re so boring—why bring up my dad at a time like this? If you keep it up, my mood will be ruined.” Su Hansheng refused to listen, wrapped an arm around his neck, and—brows arched in challenge—kissed him hard.
“If I don’t stun everyone and win the championship, it’s because you wouldn’t let me kiss you.”
Chongjue: “…”
Suddenly, “Ahem.”
Su Hansheng was still chirping away, pecking at Chongjue’s lips like a sparrow, when he heard the familiar cough. He paused, and his soul nearly left his body.
The retreat was laid out in full view.
At some point, Su Xuanlin had appeared, sitting on a cushion and rolling a black chess piece in his fingers, his gaze locked on them with the intensity of a vengeful spirit. With a tiny flick, a pile of black dust spilled from between his fingers.
Su Hansheng: “…”
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