/

Ch99 - One of a Kind




Su Hansheng furrowed his brow, certain this was impossible.
Chongjue should still be in seclusion on Mount Sumeru. How could he possibly be here?
The wounds on Su Hansheng’s body multiplied. Seeing the crowds below still hadn’t completely dispersed, Yuan Qian frantically transformed into his true form and dove down, his tail wrapping around people and tossing them toward the surrounding tavern marketplace.
Although the Bone-Eroding Tree’s fluff could penetrate barriers, it couldn’t corrode the wooden window lattice.
With Yuan Qian’s considerate “assistance,” the crowds below quickly evacuated. Moments later, the area was empty.
Yuan Qian immediately transformed back to human form and rushed into the Long Night Tower on the wind.
Su Hansheng’s fingers had been eroded so deeply that bone showed through, blood dripping steadily. Seeing all the people below had left, he finally exhaled a long, blood-tinged breath and dispersed the city walls his companion tree had formed.
After all the companion tree tendrils retracted back into the trunk, Su Hansheng’s complexion finally improved.
Yuan Qian, seeing him covered in blood with red-rimmed eyes, quickly stuffed spirit pills into his mouth.
Su Hansheng’s eyes rolled back from being stuffed so full. He quickly stopped Yuan Qian: “It’s just surface wounds. Stop, or I’ll be choked to death instead of killed by the fluff!”
Yuan Qian felt even worse.
On normal days, even tiny scratches made Su Hansheng wail loudly enough to echo through Falling Parasol Lodge. Yet now, wounded this badly, he only called it a small injury.
Su Hansheng finished chewing the spirit pill to stop the bleeding and, as if nothing was wrong, picked up his bow and walked to the corridor outside, looking at the swarming Bone-Eroding Tree in the distance with a light frown.
“It’s too far. I can’t hit it.”
Yuan Qian, watching Su Hansheng’s bone-deep fingertip wounds, kept inhaling sharply. While frantically wrapping his injuries, he fought back tears until he finally couldn’t hold back anymore, glaring at him.
“Young Lord, even if it wasn’t far, you couldn’t hit it anyway. Just spare your powers.”
Su Hansheng wiped the blood on his face unhappily: “The companion tree says the Bone-Eroding Tree’s root system is too far away, probably on the other side of the tide. It’s riding this tide-watching wind to attack. Even Baili probably couldn’t shoot that far.”
The moment he finished speaking, a heart-wrenching scream suddenly erupted in the distance, coupled with a deafening thunderous boom.
But listening closely, it wasn’t thunder at all—rather, the earth-shaking sound of a thick tree trunk being snapped in half.
Su Hansheng squinted to look, and at the end of the tide, he saw something massive slowly falling, crashing heavily into the long river.
Boom!
It sent up waves of churning water.
Su Hansheng: “…”
Su Hansheng felt oddly guilty, his face burning—whether from pain or embarrassment, he couldn’t tell.
Wu Baili didn’t really finish off the Bone-Eroding Tree with one arrow, did he?
Su Hansheng was still musing when Yuan Qian suddenly said: “There’s someone down there? Who’s courting death?”
Su Hansheng looked down accordingly, and his eyes suddenly brightened with delight. He quickly waved his hand excitedly downward.
“Brother Lingge!”
Walking through the sky full of fluff was precisely Zhuang Lingge.
The fluff of the Bone-Eroding Tree, which could erode even Nascent Soul cultivators, was completely insignificant to the sacred object Falling Abyss Dragon. It was as harmless as ordinary fluff—it couldn’t injure him in the slightest. He’d only been walking for a while before sneezing several times.
Zhuang Lingge looked up at Su Hansheng, his golden dragon eyes growing even brighter.
He rode the wind up to the top floor of the Long Night Tower, and a nascent dragon horn was sprouting on his forehead.
“Hansheng.”
Su Hansheng hadn’t seen Zhuang Lingge since the autumn recess began. He’d been planning to go back after the coming-of-age ceremony to suppress his draconic form, never expecting him to come here alone.
Su Hansheng was delighted and reached out his hand skillfully to touch Zhuang Lingge’s wrist: “Brother Lingge, what brings you here?”
The moment their hands touched, the dragon horn on Zhuang Lingge’s forehead gradually receded, and the pressure from his dragon eyes lessened considerably.
He furrowed his brow at Su Hansheng’s injuries covering his entire body. When Su Hansheng finished suppressing his draconic form and tried to withdraw his hand, Zhuang Lingge suddenly grabbed it back, his grip firm on Su Hansheng’s blood-covered hand.
Yuan Qian’s true form was a snake, and his bloodline was filled with innate fear of the Falling Abyss Dragon. He hid to the side, nearly suffocating under the overwhelming pressure.
Seeing this scene, his serpent pupils suddenly narrowed vertically, and his mind flashed with all sorts of wild, inappropriate thoughts.
dO, hODLz mCJIJ mEO NLIO CNFJ IOoJ AOtgfzzJy tOoNyhJ? s CDoNy-ztNqOy NAANft?
ondgOx ufOxxw, nMbwZwC, ngt OM Tdkn fOPwOPfMOT. yfT wmWCwTTfMO TwCfMdT, nw kngOOwrwt Pnw XgrrfOx KYjTT LCgxMO’T gYfrfPj PM CwTngWw prwTn, PCgOTJfPPfOx nfT TWfCfPdgr wOwCxj PM CwkMOTPCdkP YrMMt gOt JwgP bnwCw Ud ygOTnwOx’T ngOtT ngt YwwO wCMtwt PM bfPnwCwt YMOw.
YD dNyICJyq, hNtJAtJJ Nyz mCODqCmLJII, INE yOmCfyq ImtNyqJ NgODm fm. dfI JeJI hDtFJz fy N IofLJ: “GCNyX eOD, ctOmCJt ufyqqJ—zfz eOD hOoJ IRJhfAfhNLLe mO NmmJyz oe hOofyq-OA-NqJ hJtJoOye?”
ondgOx ufOxxw bgT PgkfPdCO gOt tftO’P YwgP gCMdOt Pnw YdTn: “eM. V bgT wOPCdTPwt PM wrfJfOgPw Pnw iMOw-qCMtfOx sCww.”
Ud ygOTnwOx’T TJfrw fJJwtfgPwrj pwrr.
Zhuang Lingge added flatly: “…But my true intention was still to attend your coming-of-age ceremony.”
With that, he pulled a small box from his sleeve: “Your birthday gift.”
Su Hansheng was easily pleased. His face immediately lit up with joy as he accepted it: “Thank you, Brother Lingge.”
Opening the lid, an ancient, majestic aura swept out.
Su Hansheng blinked in surprise. Inside the box lay a single dragon scale.
“Brother Lingge’s own scale?”
Zhuang Lingge nodded: “Your elder can have it made into a magical artifact. Impervious to blades and weapons, it can withstand one strike from a Great Ascension cultivator.”
Su Hansheng had never received such a rare gift before. He squinted and smiled, putting the box away.
“Thank you, Brother Lingge. I’ll gladly accept this.”
Yuan Qian, watching from the side, said curiously: “…Was it you, Dao Lord Zhuang, who slew the Bone-Eroding Tree just now?”
Zhuang Lingge was coldly indifferent to others, his gaze emotionless and icy: “No. I hadn’t yet acted when someone beat me to it.”
Su Hansheng looked confused: “Who?”
Just then, Wu Baili and Qifu Zhao rushed in on the wind from nearby, both looking strangely flustered, as if chased by wolves, they tumbled into the Long Night Tower.
“Xiaoxiao! Xiaoxiao!”
Su Hansheng said in shock: “You two killed the Bone-Eroding Tree that easily?!”
The transmission mirrors had said the Bone-Eroding Tree was incredibly troublesome—it took a group of Nascent Soul cultivators half a month of encirclement before finally slaying it.
How long had Wu Baili and Qifu Zhao been gone?
Could these two be…hidden masters?!
While Su Hansheng’s thoughts were still racing, the crystal Buddhist beads on his wrist suddenly radiated even more intense heat, causing him to furrow his brow slightly.
Qifu Zhao hesitantly said: “No, we encountered…on the way…”
A hand pushed open the carved wooden door. With it came a familiar fragrance of bodhisattva flowers filling the large room. The fluff beyond the railings suddenly ignited like flames—boom boom boom—exploding everywhere.
Like fireworks blanketing the sky.
Strange light poured in, illuminating half the face of the newcomer with a faint glow.
Su Hansheng casually glanced over and instantly froze.
The fluff exploded into fragments, turning to ash that drifted down.
In an instant, the Bone-Eroding Tree that had troubled countless cultivators posed no threat at all. To this person, it was merely a casual wave of spiritual energy cutting down a willow tree the size of a bowl.
The newcomer wore plain white robes and kasaya. His ink-black hair hung slightly, his features and eyes cold as a carved Buddha statue, inspiring reverence.
—It was Chongjue.
Su Hansheng stared blankly.
In three years, Chongjue hadn’t changed in the slightest. His brow and eyes were icy cold, as if time itself had been frozen by the snow atop Mount Sumeru’s peak.
Yet Su Hansheng had grown from a half-grown child into a tall, slender youth. The naive quality in his eyes had long since faded. What once required him to look up to see, he no longer needed to now.
Yuan Qian was the first to react, quickly bowing in respect: “Greetings, World-Honored One.”
Zhuang Lingge, noble as a sacred object, remained coldly distant and didn’t bow to anyone.
Su Hansheng was called back to his senses by Yuan Qian’s voice and bowed as well, his manner extremely distant.
“World-Honored One, greetings.”
Chongjue looked at the blood covering him, his brow furrowing slightly.
“You…”
The two had barely exchanged a glance when people from the marketplace arrived to handle the aftermath.
This wasn’t the place for conversation. The group had no choice but to return to Mount Sumeru.
Mount Sumeru’s mountain range stretched endlessly. Even traveling on wind currents took quite a while to arrive.
Su Hansheng was injured so badly he couldn’t exert more spiritual energy, so he let Qifu Zhao carry him.
Su Hansheng and Chongjue’s reunion and interaction played out completely unlike everyone had imagined.
Last year, the drunken Young Lord Su had been crying and shouting for Uncle. Everyone expected that upon reunion, Su Hansheng would joyfully throw himself at Chongjue. Instead, the encounter was awkward.
With Chongjue present, Qifu Zhao hesitated for a long time, uncertain whether he should carry Su Hansheng.
Su Hansheng was badly wounded. Though his most severely damaged hands had regrown flesh, his body was covered in injuries both large and small. After waiting and waiting for Qifu Zhao to come, he could only glare at him darkly.
His elbow was bent outward!
Su Hansheng was about to call someone else when he caught a familiar scent approaching.
Chongjue stood beside him, extending his arm to signal: Let me bring you back to Mount Sumeru.
Su Hansheng looked at his jade-like fingers, furrowed his brow, and stepped back half a step, speaking quietly: “No need to trouble the World-Honored One.”
Chongjue’s raised hand stiffened.
Everyone exchanged bewildered looks.
Zhuang Lingge, however, understood nothing—and perhaps wouldn’t have cared anyway. He directly stepped forward to support Su Hansheng, lowering his gaze: “I’ll bring you back to Mount Sumeru.”
This time Su Hansheng didn’t refuse. He nodded obediently.
Zhuang Lingge transformed into a small dragon, letting Su Hansheng sit on his back. With a flick of his tail, he headed toward Mount Sumeru.
From beginning to end, Su Hansheng never looked back at Chongjue once.
Chongjue remained in place, watching Su Hansheng’s retreating figure, and slowly lowered his hand.
Yuan Qian, bold by nature, stammered: “World-Honored One, Xiaoxiao is probably just sulking. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to see you.”
Chongjue gave a soft “mm” of acknowledgment, speaking quietly: “Night has fallen. Let’s return.”
The three hastily nodded.
***
In Hanmang Garden at Mount Sumeru.
Zhuang Lingge had already been arranged by Ying Zhijin to rest. Su Hansheng sat alone by the Cold Pool, his pants rolled up to his knees, bare feet exposing clearly defined calves.
The Cold Pool was brimming with frigid energy. For Su Hansheng, who had already successfully suppressed the Phoenix Bone, it was an unbearably frozen wasteland. Yet these past years, whenever he returned to Mount Sumeru, the place he visited most was sitting by the Cold Pool, bare feet splashing in the water for entertainment.
His lips were frozen purple, yet he persisted in kicking the bone-chilling icy water.
A section of his companion tree on his shoulder had frozen leaves dropping off.
Su Hansheng lay flat on the ground, swinging his legs in the cold pool, speaking lazily: “…I’m not angry. I’m not upset.”
Three years ago when Chongjue left to enter seclusion, even if Su Hansheng had harbored immense resentment then, it should have long since dissipated.
Moreover, Su Hansheng hadn’t merely grown taller these past years—he also understood that Chongjue must have had unavoidable difficulties to enter a ten-year seclusion.
He could empathize.
Su Hansheng had prepared himself thoroughly for understanding, intending to be obedient and well-behaved, giving him no trouble.
Yet seeing Chongjue so unexpectedly, the resentment he’d suppressed suddenly erupted violently, unreasonably overtaking his chest and mind.
Understanding my foot.
He hadn’t become a Buddhist monk. Why should he be magnanimous and compassionate? He chose to be petty and grudge-holding instead.
Su Hansheng suddenly kicked the water violently, saying angrily: “I’m furious!”
And he’d even given him a courtesy name everyone mocked!
Su Hansheng kicked the water until the cold seeped directly into his body, yet he remained lying on the ice in a sulk, too lazy to get up.
Suddenly, a soft laugh echoed in his ears.
Su Hansheng’s eyes widened abruptly. He bolted upright and turned to look.
Chongjue had arrived at some point and stood in the misty cold, looking at him quietly, his brow and eyes carrying a subtle smile.
“Angry?”
Su Hansheng, who’d just admitted his fury, suddenly withdrew back into himself. He lay back down, forcing a smile: “How dare I be upset with an elder? That would be too much.”
Seeing Su Hansheng trembling from the cold, his injured calves frozen with blood turned to ice shards, Chongjue set aside his teasing. He moved his finger slightly.
Su Hansheng gasped as his body suddenly lifted, wrapped in spiritual energy before tumbling directly into Chongjue’s embrace.
Su Hansheng was still sulking. Normally he would have thrown a tantrum, thrashing and demanding to be put down, but the words caught in his throat. He forced out a fake smile instead.
“Thank you, World-Honored One.”
Chongjue had anticipated he would be upset and wasn’t choked by the response. He calmly carried him back to the room.
Chongjue noticed Su Hansheng had grown somewhat taller, but his bones seemed hollow—he felt light as air when held, even thinner than three years ago.
Chongjue lifted the bed curtain and placed him on the bed.
The moment Su Hansheng’s back touched the mattress, he immediately rolled into the blankets, assuming a posture of refusing communication.
Chongjue instead sat on the bed’s edge, raising his hand to heal Su Hansheng’s injuries from a distance using spiritual energy.
Su Hansheng’s body had ached all over, but bathed in the Great Ascension-stage spiritual energy, the pain gradually dissipated.
The fragrance of bodhisattva flowers permeated every corner of the bed curtain, desperately winding into Su Hansheng’s nostrils. He wanted nothing more than to pinch his nose and stop breathing.
Sensing that Chongjue showed no signs of leaving, Su Hansheng reluctantly turned around, maintaining his false smile: “Thank you, World-Honored One, for healing my injuries. Tomorrow I shall have Elder Xie present you with generous gifts as thanks.”
Chongjue: “…”
This anger was truly one of a kind.
Su Hansheng yawned, continuing his false, respectful smile: “My body is unwell. I hope World-Honored One won’t mind that I don’t rise to see you off.”
Chongjue looked down at this beautiful face now free of its youthful innocence, feeling as if eons had passed.
Three years had slipped away in an instant. The youth who once threw tantrums and acted recklessly had grown into an adult in the time he couldn’t see. That lost time, even with boundless cultivation, could never be recovered.
Seeing Chongjue simply stared at his face without speaking, Su Hansheng’s brow furrowed: “Does World-Honored One have further business?”
He’d already given several dismissal orders. How had he lost his perceptiveness from entering seclusion?
Leave, leave, leave!
Chongjue regained his senses and finally spoke quietly: “I have a question I hope the young one can clarify for me.”
Su Hansheng: “…”
Su Hansheng’s teeth nearly cracked. He hadn’t expected Chongjue not to admit fault but instead to turn the tables, calling him “young one.”
He resolved to act completely unreasonable now. No amount of coaxing would make him forgive.
Never.
“World-Honored One speaks too highly,” Su Hansheng said sarcastically. “This junior will certainly answer everything.”
Chongjue said flatly: “I wish to know why, upon my emergence from seclusion, half the three realms have been spreading rumors that I am an ‘old tree blooming late, harboring a forbidden, improper romance with an old friend’s son’?”
Su Hansheng: “…”
***
##