153 Stay, boy! Stay!
I leaned back against the chair, arms crossed, staring Nongmin down. "Is it possible for you to just shoot straight for once and tell me the name of the person I'm supposed to have a fateful encounter with?" I asked, half-frustrated, half-begging for an ounce of directness. "I'd rather get this over with and focus on resurrecting Ren Xun and Gu Jie already."
For a moment, Nongmin just regarded me silently, eyes half-lidded, like he was weighing whether to humor me. I pressed forward, unable to help myself. "Isn't Ren Xun your grandson?" I said, voice growing sharper. "You said yourself he has incredible formation talents, talents even you were seemingly proud of. Shouldn't you be just as motivated to bring him back?"
Nongmin gave a long, almost theatrical sigh, the kind old men gave when humoring a stubborn child. "Patience, Da Wei," he said, smiling faintly. "It must happen naturally. Force it, and we risk losing everything we seek."
I frowned, drumming my fingers against my arm. "So what is it that I actually have to do?"
He met my eyes and answered with infuriating simplicity, "Be yourself."
I stared at him, waiting for more, but nothing else came. Just those two useless, impossible words. "Be myself," I repeated, hollowly. "You realize that's the least helpful instruction ever, right?"
Nongmin only chuckled, the sound low and maddeningly calm. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to process it. The problem wasn't that I didn't know how to act like myself. It was that I didn't even know what myself meant anymore. Sure, I carried the title of Paladin, but between the power I wielded and the spirit that truly owned it, I was just… borrowing the light.
Yes, I was a nice guy. I tried to be decent. I tried to be good. But the 'Paladin'… the true champion of light and the unwavering force of justice… That wasn't really me! It was Dave. My Holy Spirit. A character from a game that, somehow, had taken on a life and will of his own. Every ounce of strength, every divine miracle I cast, every surge of holy might… it belonged to him. I was a Paladin in name only.
If I could have just handed over the wheel to him completely, let Dave take charge without falling into existential madness, I would have done it a long time ago. But it wasn't that simple. My human pride, my stubborn gamer mindset, the seductive thrill of choice and power… They had distanced me from what a Paladin was truly meant to be. That was the truth I didn't like admitting, even to myself.
I let out a slow breath and looked at Nongmin again. "So I just need to be myself," I said carefully, trying to make sure there weren't any hidden traps. "And I don't need to do anything?"
He nodded slightly. "For the duration of seven days, you must remain in your room. Let the world turn outside. Do nothing. Interfere with nothing."
That sounded so easy it was suspicious. I thought about it for a moment, weighing the implications, then tilted my head. "Would it be fine if I took the backseat and let my Holy Spirit steer instead?" I asked cautiously. "Let him handle things?"
Nongmin's answer came without hesitation. "It wouldn't matter. You are free to do as you please."
I narrowed my eyes at him, scanning his posture, his breathing, even the slight fluctuations of qi around him with my Divine Sense. Nothing felt off. No deceit, no hidden malice. Still, just to be sure, I pressed further. "No prank hidden somewhere? No 'gotcha' moment where I end up stuck fighting ten dragons barehanded? Because last time, you stuck me with a harem… and a curse, even to this moment, I dread when they will surface."
He smiled again, but it was smaller this time. "None this time."
The sincerity in his words told me it was the truth. Worse still, that little emphasis 'this time' confirmed what I had long suspected: Nongmin had, in fact, been pranking me before. Probably more often than I realized.
I groaned under my breath and flopped back into the chair, staring up at the wooden ceiling beams. "Great. So I just sit here and be useless for seven days. Perfect. Absolutely living the dream."
Nongmin, mercifully, said nothing, letting me wallow in my own sarcasm. Maybe he figured I'd need the time to come to terms with the fact that sometimes doing nothing was, paradoxically, the hardest thing to do.
Seven days of waiting. Seven days of self-reflection. Seven days of hoping that, somewhere out there, fate was winding up the encounter that would change everything.
I didn't know if I was ready. But ready or not, it was coming.
I stepped out of the Emperor's quarters, closing the door softly behind me, only to find Tao Long standing there, arms crossed and posture stiff like a statue. His sharp eyes flickered toward me, and after a moment, he spoke in that calm, flat tone of his.
"I asked an inn servant which place here has the best view," Tao Long said without waiting for my reply. He turned on his heel and began walking away at a steady pace, clearly expecting me to follow.
I sighed inwardly but trailed after him anyway. We wound through a few narrow corridors and up a set of polished stone stairs, emerging into an open pavilion that overlooked the city. The scene was beautiful enough that even I had to pause for a second. The mountains in the distance sat like sleeping giants wrapped in mist, the sea shimmered beneath the setting sun, and the industrious quarter of the city buzzed faintly below, like a hive full of diligent bees.
Tao Long walked toward the farthest corner and stood silently, his hands clasped behind his back, the very picture of a loyal guardian. I watched him for a while, waiting for him to say whatever it was he dragged me up here for. When the silence stretched too long, I finally broke it.
"What are you waiting for?" I asked, my voice carrying lazily across the open air.
Tao Long turned slightly, enough to look at me out of the corner of his eye. "For the sake of your disguise," he said, "I'll be living together with you from now on. The same is probably true for Liang Na."
I blinked, processing that. Having bodyguards wasn't a bad thing, especially bodyguards at their level of strength. But the thought of having my privacy constantly infringed upon made something deep inside me bristle. I wasn't used to that kind of constant surveillance, and I doubted I ever would be.
Still, I didn't argue. It wasn't like this would last forever.
While Tao Long returned his gaze to the horizon, I silently activated Voice Chat and reached out to Dave. 'Hey,' I thought to him, 'do you mind steering the wheel for a while?'
The reply came almost instantly, a ripple of familiar presence brushing against my mind. 'Apologies,' Dave said, his voice dry. 'I am still healing, My Lord.'
I sighed and mentally leaned back. I might have been too hasty, pushing the idea of giving Dave more freedom. Thinking about it now, it wasn't just unfair… it was cruel. At least back on Earth, when I was a teacher, I had weekends off. Time to breathe. Dave, on the other hand, was trapped inside me most of the time, silent, sleeping, sometimes just plain missing.
It made me remember the old Pokémon games I used to play as a kid. How we'd shove these poor creatures into little balls, call them out only when we needed them, and never think twice about it. Maybe I had treated Dave a little too much like that… a summoned entity, a tool. Not a partner.
'We need to set up a schedule,' I told him through Voice Chat, trying to sound lighter than I felt. 'Once you're fully healed, I'll make time for you to experience the world. Not… not in the weird way,' I added hurriedly when I felt his amusement. 'I mean stuff like eating food, singing, dancing, whatever you want. You deserve more than just battles.'
There was no reply, but I felt a faint warmth settle in the back of my mind. That was enough for now.
"You look lost," Tao Long suddenly said, his voice snapping me back to reality.
I looked over at him, then shrugged and walked over to a nearby couch nestled under the shade of a pavilion beam. "No problem at all," I said easily. "Just thinking."
I sprawled onto the couch, feeling the softness of expensive silk and the faintest scent of tea leaves that clung to the cushions. Seven days of doing nothing. Might as well do something useful with my time.
Reaching into my Item Box, I rummaged through the chaotic mental shelves until I found one of the books I had stashed ages ago. I pulled it free and turned it over in my hands… a thick tome with golden script embossed across the front: The Twelve Gateways to Spirit Mystery: A Guide to Your Breakthrough.
Not exactly light reading, but it was better than staring at the ceiling for a week.
I cracked the book open, feeling the familiar thrill of falling into new knowledge. As the distant city hummed below and Tao Long stood guard in the corner, I settled in and started to read, already losing myself in the labyrinthine theories of qi cycling and soul resonance.
One way or another, these seven days would pass.
And when they did, fate would come knocking.
It didn't take long for the first day to pass. Honestly, it was boring, but at the same time, I found myself completely absorbed in my reading. There was something about cultivation that fascinated me in the same way gaming once had. The way systems and rules layered on top of one another, creating a path for advancement, felt familiar, almost nostalgic. In the Martial Tempering Realm, I read, you would get a boost in your physical abilities every time you connected a star to your dantian. Those stars were also referred to as meridians, and each one you conquered made you stronger in a direct, measurable way.
In the Mind Enlightenment Realm, the system became more intricate. It wasn't just about growing stronger anymore. It was about creating a network, connecting every star to each other, forming your own unique constellation. It wasn't a simple increase; it was a qualitative leap. Your physical and mental abilities would evolve from synergy, and your access to qi would transform from a trickle to a raging river if you did it correctly. Then came Will Reinforcement. That was where I currently stood. Through it, you could manifest an aura, a tangible extension of your soul and strength. Simply put, will! I had connected my stars carefully and meticulously, and now I stood at the ninth star of Will Reinforcement.
No… more than that. I wasn't just standing at it. I was at the peak. Every star inside me thrummed with suppressed energy, bursting at the seams like they were dying to break free. I counted them one by one, over and over, and no matter how many times I double-checked, the number remained constant: twenty-seven stars. Twenty-seven stars burning within me, demanding to move forward.
I turned the page slowly, reading about the Spirit Mystery Realm. In order to ascend, I had to destroy the outer layer of my dantian. From its ruin, nine smaller stars would emerge, each needing to be fed with qi in a strict order, starting from the smallest to the largest. It sounded terrifying in theory. In practice, it was worse. For most people, the dantian sat in the lower abdomen. It was bad enough trying to destroy something so fundamental to your life, but in my case, my dantian wasn't there.
My dantian was in my heart.
I leaned back in the couch, staring at the ceiling. Destroying the dantian meant destroying the heart… or at least the part intertwined with it. Sure, I could regenerate my heart with healing spells or divine methods, but could I really regenerate the core of my cultivation? I wasn't so sure. Even Lu Gao had only managed to survive his dantian's restructuring because he had endured the horrific toll of Divine Possession, not to mention he was practically an empty husk when he began using Mana Road Cultivation. It had been a miracle.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to cultivate, to try, to push forward. I sat still for hours, breathing slow and deep, directing my consciousness inward. I tried every technique I had learned: compression, resonance, visualization, even prayer. Nothing worked. My stars continued to pulse with potential, but the breakthrough refused to come. My heart was simply too precious, too tightly woven into my being for me to casually rip it apart.
When the second day passed, I barely noticed. I spent it much the same way… reading, meditating, contemplating, and failing. At some point, I used Voice Chat to check on Dave, just to pass the time.
"Dave," I whispered inwardly, "how are you feeling?"
"My Lord," Dave answered, his voice warm and respectful, like a knight addressing his king. "This one is still mending his spirit, but fear not. I am fine."
"Rest well," I told him gently. "You don't need to force yourself. When you're ready, I'll be counting on you again."
"It will be my greatest honor, My Lord," he replied. His words rang with sincerity, and after that, he grew quiet once more.
By the time the third day arrived, I accepted that there would be no miraculous progress. No breakthrough would come simply by wishing for it. I resigned myself to more reading, more theorizing, and more quiet reflection. At least I could deepen my understanding.
So, without any drama or fanfare, I pulled another thick tome from my Item Box, settled onto the couch, and continued my silent, studious war against the mountain standing between me and the next realm.
By the fourth day, I was starting to lose it.
Boredom gnawed at my mind like a slow, persistent disease. I found myself imagining the worst possibilities, like what had happened in Yellow Dragon City. Maybe an enemy would break in. Maybe some wild event would sweep me up again. Maybe I would snap under the stillness and do something stupid. Honestly, if I stayed trapped here much longer, I felt I might genuinely lose my mind.
I gave Tao Long a firm order the moment the thought crossed my head.
"Whatever happens," I said sharply, meeting his unreadable gaze, "don't let me leave this room."
Tao Long gave me a small nod, hands tucked neatly behind his back. "Understood."
He didn't even ask why. That was professionalism, I supposed.
With nothing better to do, I asked Tao Long if he wanted to play a game of Go. He agreed without hesitation, and soon he was patiently explaining the rules to me, moving black and white stones across the board with calm precision. It wasn't a bad way to kill time. The soft clack of the stones hitting the wood was oddly soothing, like rain on a roof.
Food would usually arrive with clockwork regularity, and while I didn't need food to survive, it had become an important ritual for me. A small anchor to a normal life. But as the sun reached its peak in the sky, lunchtime came and went with no knock at the door.
I frowned, tapping a finger lightly on the side of the Go board.
"Tao Long," I said, "can you check on the inn servants? There's no need to be overbearing. Just... if there's a problem, please resolve it peacefully."
I added after a pause, "I overheard that the servants here like feeling useful. They take pride in serving guests. So, if it's just a delay, don't make a big deal out of it."
Tao Long gave a slight bow. "As you command," he said, and slipped away with the soundless efficiency only an experienced cultivator could manage.
Normally, I would have gone myself. But Nongmin's words rang in the back of my mind that I must remain in my room. So, I stayed. Obediently. Restlessly.
I stared at the Go board, only half-focused, and realized that Tao Long had been winning. Badly. His pieces had already dominated most of the board, closing off my territories bit by bit. A mischievous part of me… the part that had cheated at board games back on Earth just to annoy my cousins, whispered that I could totally cheat and fix this.
Maybe just flick a stone or two when Tao Long wasn't looking.
But I wasn't feeling it today. My heart wasn't in it.
Sighing, I pushed myself up from the floor and rummaged through my Item Box. After a minute of digging, I pulled out an easel, a canvas, a set of paintbrushes, and a box of paints. If I couldn't win at Go, I could at least kill time with something a little more relaxing.
I set up the easel by the window, adjusting it until I had the best view of the outside. Beyond the pavilion, the sea stretched out into the misty horizon, meeting the sky in a faint, silver-blue blur. Mountains rose like jagged gods on the edges, their peaks shrouded in thin veils of cloud. Closer to the city, life bustled: merchants unloading carts, children chasing each other, fishermen hauling in their catch.
It was a beautiful view. So peaceful it hurt.
I dipped a brush into blue paint and began to sketch the lines of the sea in slow, deliberate strokes. There was no rush. No enemy to fight. No crisis to solve. Just the rhythmic movement of brush to canvas, tracing out a fragment of the world as I saw it.
And for the first time in days, my heart felt a little lighter.
It didn't take me long to finish the painting.
The sea shimmered in layers of muted blue and green, the mountains loomed with solemn dignity, and the busy corner of the city buzzed with life in the distance. Somehow, through a little patience and idle brushstrokes, I had captured a moment of peace. It wasn't perfect, but it was mine and for now, that was enough.
I leaned back, surveying the canvas with a small amount of pride. Maybe if this whole cultivation journey went sideways, I could just open an art shop somewhere remote and paint my remaining days away.
That moment of quiet satisfaction was shattered by a sharp, hurried knock at the door.
I paused mid-stroke, brush hovering over the canvas. I had already sensed a presence outside some time ago… someone lingering, hesitant, unsure whether to announce themselves. Since they weren't hostile, I let them be. Now, however, they were making themselves known.
Setting my brush aside, I wiped my hands on a cloth and walked over to the door.
When I opened it, I was met with a sight that made my mind momentarily freeze.
Standing there was a young girl.
She looked to be about twelve or thirteen years old by Earth standards, maybe a bit older by cultivation standards. Delicate features, bright eyes, and neatly combed hair. She was clearly nervous, judging by the way her fingers twisted into the hem of her dress.
I blinked. Then I remembered something important.
My chibi form.
I was still in it.
In this smaller body, I looked—what?—about ten years old? Maybe younger, depending on who you asked. It was hard to tell how people judged age here, but I had a sinking feeling this situation wasn't going to be easy to navigate.
Still, I cleared my throat and asked the obvious question. "Can I help you?"
The girl's cheeks flared a bright crimson, and then, practically shouting, she said,
"Please marry me!"
There was a moment of stunned silence.
I felt my lips twitch, somewhere between laughter and horror. I instinctively glanced around, half-expecting sirens, flashing lights, and a group of agents screaming, "FBI! OPEN UP!"
Internally, I cursed. Please, for the love of God, don't call the FBI on me.
And because that wasn't enough mental suffering, another thought immediately followed, filled with venomous spite: Also, fuck you, Nongmin.
Because clearly, somewhere in the depths of that sly Emperor's mind, he had thought this would be hilarious. Yup, that was my policy now, remember? Blame the Emperor if something wrong happened to me… This was one of those situations.
I resisted the urge to physically massage my temples and forced a stiff, polite smile instead.
"Uh... maybe we should start with your name first?" I said.
My voice cracked a little. Not from nerves… no, from the sheer mental strain of trying to navigate what could only be described as a landmine field.
The girl nodded quickly, looking both mortified and hopeful at the same time.
"My name is—"
154 Another Tea Time?
"Tian Mei," the girl said, her voice small but determined.
I nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in. She hesitated at the threshold for a moment before scurrying inside like a mouse seeking shelter from the rain.
With a flick of my wrist, I swiped the Go board back into my Item Box, the pieces and board vanishing in the blink of an eye. In its place, I summoned my tea set, the familiar clink of porcelain soothing some of the awkwardness hanging in the air.
"Would you like milk or tea?" I asked, keeping my voice casual.
Tian Mei fidgeted, eyes darting between the table and the door, before whispering, "Tea, please."
According to my Divine Sense, she was lying through her teeth.
I smiled faintly and summoned a pitcher filled with fresh milk instead. It was mortal milk… not some grand spiritual beast's essence or heavenly nectar… but it would do. She didn't have a thread of cultivation in her, not even the basics like Martial Tempering or the opening of her meridians. Mortal milk would suit her just fine.
She pouted when she saw me pour milk into her cup while pouring a steaming brew of tea for myself.
"There's no need to pretend to be an adult," I said lightly, pushing the milk toward her. "You can act your age around me."
Her cheeks turned red again, but she took the cup with both hands, cradling it like it was some precious treasure. I studied her a little closer as I sipped my tea.
Judging by her clothes… expensive fabrics, intricate embroidery, and subtle stitching patterns… I could tell she was definitely rich and influential. Not the daughter of a merchant, though. There was no heavy scent of exotic perfumes that merchants often used to advertise their wealth. Instead, she carried something subtler, something heavier: a blessing.
A protective qi enveloped her, almost like a soft, invisible shield. It wasn't armor or a direct buff… it was more like a divine signature left by someone powerful to watch over her.
I took another slow sip, letting the tea's warmth ground me, then set the cup down with a soft clink.
"So," I said, my gaze steady, "what's the problem? And how can I help?"
Tian Mei looked ready to explode from nerves, clutching her cup so tightly that I worried she might crack it.
Before she could speak, I raised a hand.
"And before you say anything," I added, tone dry, "marrying me is not an option. You're far too young for me."
Her lips pulled into a frown, and she huffed, crossing her arms with all the defiance of a child denied candy.
"How young do you want it to be then?" she muttered bitterly. "A fetus still in the womb?"
If I hadn't been a noob in making people do a spit-take, or if I hadn't already experienced emotional face-slaps a dozen times over… I would have choked on my tea right then and there.
I coughed lightly into my sleeve, hiding the twitch at the corner of my mouth.
Tian Mei's cheeks stayed puffed up with indignation for a moment before she seemed to remember why she was here. She lowered her head, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve.
"I… I actually came because I saw your painting," she said, voice trembling slightly. "It was… it was very beautiful."
"You know that's a big fat lie, right?"
No way she could have seen what I was painting with the door closed…
I leaned back in my chair, tilting my head slightly, watching her closely. Her words were sweet, but there was something off. Half-truths carried a certain texture in the air, and my instincts… picked up the scent immediately.
"Is that it?" I asked calmly, taking another sip of tea. My gaze didn't waver from her.
Under the pressure of my stare, Tian Mei wilted like a flower caught in a sudden frost. Her fingers tightened around her cup until I heard the faintest crack of porcelain. Oh, come on… That was my favorite teaset gifted to me by a nice grandma…
"I…" she broke off, biting her lower lip. Her shoulders trembled slightly, and when she finally spoke again, her voice was raw with emotion. "I'm a disgrace. My grandmother says so. She hates me."
The words came out in a broken whisper, and for a moment, she couldn't even meet my eyes.
I sat up straighter, setting my cup down.
Grandmother, huh?
"You're from the Heavenly Temple delegation, aren't you?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral. "Just a wild guess…" In fact, it wasn't. The characters for Heavenly Temple were stitched in her neckline, though it was small.
Her head snapped up in surprise, and after a long moment, she gave a tiny nod.
I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. Heavenly Temple… No wonder she had a blessing around her. The so-called "blessing" was probably some sort of divine inheritance or protection from a higher realm cultivator tied to their sect.
"And why exactly are you a disgrace?" I asked, genuinely curious.
She looked at me like I had asked her why water was wet.
"Don't you see?" Tian Mei whispered, her envy bleeding into every syllable. "I'm normal."
I blinked, honestly confused.
"Normal? What's wrong with being normal?" I asked.
Her hands curled into fists on her lap. Her face twisted with something ugly… jealousy, frustration, and years of bottled-up inadequacy.
"But you," she hissed, voice sharp and trembling, "even being so young, you're already at the Will Reinforcement Realm. Word of your prowess… your genius… It's already spread through the fortress. Everyone says you're the Emperor's hidden grandchild, or maybe even his secret lovechild from another woman."
I stared at her, deadpan.
Wow. Just wow.
In my head, I could already picture it. Liang Na, probably working overtime somewhere, spreading ridiculous stories like some gleeful gossip grandma, stuffing the narrative down everyone's throats. Emperor's secret lovechild? Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. Thanks a lot, Nongmin. Thanks a lot, Liang Na. Now I'm some royal scandal headline.
Yeah, great work… I knew this was coming, but it still came as a surprise.
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Please tell me they didn't actually call me that out loud," I muttered.
Tian Mei looked a little uncertain but nodded anyway.
I sipped quietly on my tea, watching Tian Mei fidget in her seat. She had barely touched her cup of milk, too busy wringing her hands and shooting nervous glances my way.
"So," I finally said, voice calm, "what do you want, exactly? Advice?"
She jumped to her feet so suddenly that she almost knocked the table over.
"Marry me!" she demanded, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing with determination.
I stared at her, then slowly brought my hand to my face and gave myself a good, thorough facepalm.
"Tian Mei," I said patiently, dragging my hand down my face, "that's not possible."
A part of me… some awful, chaotic part… briefly entertained the idea of revealing what I really looked like. Maybe if she saw me in my adult form, she'd realize how ridiculous this was. Unfortunately, the Chibi Perfume's effect wasn't something that could be waved away easily. It was sticky and persistent, like cheap glitter after a birthday party. I could probably break it if I pulled out a trump card like Judgment Severance... but was it really worth wasting a high-grade purification ability on something so stupid?
'No,' I decided, 'definitely not. Nongmin did warn me we were expecting a fight soon. Better save my strength.'
I put my teacup down gently and gave Tian Mei my best imitation of a kind, patient elder.
"Listen carefully," I said. "We can't get married. It's not about you, it's about me. I'm a bad man." I gestured vaguely. "A womanizer. My heart's already reserved for someone else."
Yeah… so convincing… A ten-year-old womanizer… It wasn't technically a lie. Not exactly accurate either, but who cared? If this could get me out of this without crushing her spirit too badly, it was worth it.
Tian Mei, however, was not the kind to give up so easily.
She crossed her arms and huffed. "So what? You're going to be Emperor someday anyway! It's fine for you to have a harem!" she argued fiercely, her cheeks puffed up in outrage. "I don't mind just being a concubine! But you must let me approve the women you pick before you bring them in!"
I stared at her, feeling my last threads of patience fraying.
'This is a child,' I reminded myself firmly. 'A child, Da Wei. Calm down. You'll eventually find the way… hah~ who am I kidding?'
Taking a deep breath, I decided to pull a Ren Xun… channel that sweet, flowery nonsense he used to charm girls into forgetting their complaints, or so what I've heard from his tales.
"My womanizing days are over," I said solemnly, pressing a hand dramatically over my heart. "I'm a changed man. Because…" I softened my voice, letting the words flow slowly and deliberately, "I've dedicated my entire heart to another woman. No other could ever take her place."
I delivered the line with as much poetic romance as I could muster, half expecting Tian Mei to burst into giggles.
Instead, her eyes grew wide and sparkly, her little hands clutched at her chest as if physically holding in the awe. She was practically swooning.
Goddamn, I'm good.
But just when I thought she was about to sigh dreamily and give up, Tian Mei's face hardened. She narrowed her eyes at me like a suspicious little detective.
"You're lying," she accused, voice sharp. "You're just saying that to get me out of your hair! If you really love someone, tell me who she is!"
My lips twitched.
'Persistent little gremlin, aren't you?'
I steepled my fingers together and rested my elbows on the table, giving her a long, thoughtful look. I wasn't sure if I was impressed or exhausted. Maybe both.
"You really won't let this go, huh?" I said, half-amused, half-exasperated.
I leaned back slightly in my chair, watching Tian Mei's small, stubborn figure glare at me, waiting for an answer. I could have lied… made up some beautiful fictional woman to throw her off. But instead, my mind, unbidden, drifted toward someone real.
Xin Yune.
A soft smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it.
Lying hadn't been my specialty, so I might as well throw a bit of truth to it…
"There was someone," I said, voice gentle. I wrapped my hands around my teacup, letting the warmth seep into my palms. "Someone whose honesty was like a spring breeze. She didn't hide behind flowery words or false pretenses. She laughed without reservation, and when she did, it was like the whole world felt a little less heavy."
Tian Mei's expression shifted as I spoke. First curious, then a bit suspicious, and finally… furious. I ignored her. This girl sure had a whole lot of range when it comes to emotions. I think she might even got me beat.
I kept talking because once I started, the memories flowed too easily.
"With her, I could just be me. Not a savior. Not a monster. Not a tool. Just… myself." My fingers tightened slightly around the cup. "There was no weight, no judgment, and no endless expectations pressing down on my shoulders. Just... comfort."
I trailed off, realizing the air around Tian Mei was practically vibrating now. Her little fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Her cheeks were puffed out in outrage, and I was pretty sure she was on the brink of throwing an honest-to-goodness tantrum right here in my sitting room.
I cleared my throat and set the tea down before she could actually flip the table.
She jabbed a finger at me, practically hissing. "Does this person have a name?!"
I looked at her, at those accusing eyes that had no idea what kind of pain she was poking at, and nodded slowly.
"Xin Yune," I said simply.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Tian Mei drew herself up to her full height, stuck out her chest, and declared loudly, "Then Xin Yune will be my rival! I will prove myself to be a better woman than her! You'll see!"
I blinked, not sure where I should start processing the ridiculousness first.
The fact that this twelve-year-old girl had just declared the Emperor's mother, whom she thought was merely my 'beloved woman', as her romantic rival…
Or the fact that Xin Yune was dead.
And Tian Mei was now competing against a dead person!
I rubbed my temples, feeling the beginnings of a massive headache forming.
'Tian Mei,' I thought bleakly, 'you might be fighting a losing battle here for more reasons than you understand.'
Still, what could I even say? Break her spirit outright? Tell her she was making a fool of herself? No. I didn't have the heart to be cruel, not to a kid who was already trying so hard just to feel like she mattered to someone.
So instead, I just sighed and refilled her milk.
"You'll need to work really hard then," I said solemnly, like I was imparting grave wisdom, "because Xin Yune… was a very remarkable woman."
Tian Mei's eyes lit up with a fierce determination that made me feel guilty and amused all at once.
Great. Just great. Now I've accidentally given her a lifelong mission.
I sipped my tea and mentally cursed Nongmin again.
Just as I was pouring another cup of tea, the door creaked open without so much as a knock.
An old woman stepped inside with unhurried grace, her white hair tied neatly behind her head. There were faint wrinkles lining her face, not deep enough to steal her beauty but enough to lend her an air of lived wisdom. She wore simple but immaculately maintained robes, and the gentle hum of spiritual energy wrapped around her like a second skin, giving off a calming, almost maternal aura.
The moment Tian Mei caught sight of her, her eyes widened with a glimmer of hope before immediately clouding over with worry.
"Grandmother," Tian Mei murmured, voice small.
Ah. So that's the heavyweight.
The old woman didn't even look at Tian Mei first. No, her gaze zeroed in straight at me, those sharp old eyes narrowing like she was sizing up an insect stuck to her sandals.
And then she spoke.
"How dare you trick my granddaughter and play with her heart?"
I blinked, utterly blindsided. "What now?"
She wasn't finished. She took a step forward, hands folded calmly behind her back, but her words carried the force of a guillotine.
"Xin Yune used to be my disciple," she said, her voice as cool and soft as falling snow. "She is many, many years older than you, both in mind and in body… I must say, you have a very questionable education if your type of woman is like that with years so far apart... It is scandalous!"
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my brain utterly failed me. I sputtered, then stammered, and against every ounce of dignity left in my body, I blurted…
"What's wrong with liking 'em big?!"
The words echoed in the room with the weight of a dying god.
I froze.
Tian Mei froze.
The old woman definitely froze.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I felt my soul trying to eject itself from my body in pure embarrassment.
Why, I bemoaned inwardly, why is it that even with my cultivation base soaring through the heavens, with Paladin-level composure in battle, with multiple mental resistance skills stacked like armor, the mere presence of an angry grandma could still make me fumble like a freshman at a school dance?
It had to be the Earth part of me. It had to be.
There was no way my magical body was this weak to social pressure.
I didn't need a NAT 20, I thought miserably. I'd be happy just by not rolling a critical fumble!
Tian Mei was staring at me now with an expression halfway between horror and awe.
Meanwhile, her grandmother gave a long, weary sigh like she had seen a thousand suns rise and fall and this was somehow still the most disappointing event of her long life.
"...I see," she said finally, voice brittle. "Perhaps it was my mistake to let Tian Mei meet you. Foolish infatuation is better corrected early."
Tian Mei, finally shaking herself from her stupor, grabbed her grandmother's sleeve, panicked. "No, grandmother! He's… he's… he's kind! He listened to me! He didn't make fun of me! He poured me milk!" Her voice cracked at the end like it was the greatest testimony anyone could offer.
The old woman's eyes softened slightly as she looked down at her granddaughter, but when she glanced back at me, it was the kind of look a farmer might give a particularly lazy cow.
I straightened my back, trying desperately to salvage whatever scraps of dignity I had left.
Clearing my throat, I said, "Look, senior. There's been a misunderstanding. I have no intention of toying with your granddaughter. I was simply... educating her about the realities of life." And trying to make sure I didn't end up on a wanted list for grooming charges, I added silently.
The old woman regarded me for a long moment before her mouth twitched into what might have been the ghost of a smile… or a grimace.
"Well," she said at last, "perhaps there is some hope for you yet. Even if your tastes are… questionable."
I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or offended.
Mostly relieved.
Tian Mei, meanwhile, beamed at me like I had just fought off a dragon with my bare hands.
I slumped back into my chair, exhausted. Today was not a battle of cultivation, strategy, or physical strength. Today was a battle of social endurance.
And frankly?
I was losing.
Fuck you, Nongmin.
155 Babysitter David
I sat there for a long moment, trying very hard not to sigh into it.
How would this circus help me resurrect my disciples?
But then I thought about it again, carefully. If this grandmother really had been Xin Yune's master… the latter being Divine Physician herself, one of the legendary figures of healing… then there was no way this grandmother didn't know something useful. Something crucial. Maybe a forbidden art. Maybe a clue to a method I hadn't even dared to dream of.
'Get yourself together, David,' I told myself firmly. 'Don't fumble this.'
I stood up from my seat, straightening my robes, doing my best to look composed and respectful. I offered a crisp martial artist's bow, hands clasped, back straight.
With my best imitation of the polite scholarly voice, I said, "The name is Mei Wei. Greetings to you, honorable grandmother."
The reaction was immediate.
The old woman's face twisted into a scandalized look, like I had just proposed to her in public. Tian Mei's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of crimson, almost the color of a ripened fruit.
I froze slightly, wondering if I had just committed some unspeakable sin.
What? I thought desperately. Was calling someone 'grandmother' wrong? Was I supposed to flirt instead? Bow and call her 'senior fairy' like those groveling young masters? I'm not that dense, right?
The old woman pinched the bridge of her nose with a long-suffering sigh.
"You…" she said slowly, "have a great deal of polishing to do when it comes to etiquette and manners."
I winced slightly but bowed my head in acknowledgment. I wasn't about to start arguing with her. Not now.
She continued, her voice cool and final, "You shall never marry my granddaughter!"
No shit, I thought dryly, doing my best to keep my face straight.
Out loud, I simply nodded and said, "Thank you."
Tian Mei, who had clearly been preparing to launch into some impassioned protest, blinked when she heard my response. Her mouth opened, then closed. She looked like someone had just pulled the rug out from under her entire argument.
A flicker of hurt flashed across her face, and for a moment, I felt a pang of guilt. She was just a kid, trying to find a place in a world that worshipped genius and power.
The old woman's sharp gaze pinned me again. "So," she asked, her voice deceptively casual, "is my granddaughter not good enough for you?"
I stared at her, confused.
"Huh? What?"
In my heart, I muttered, Come on, old woman. Don't be overbearing. I'm trying to be nice here.
I held my tongue, refusing to answer harshly. Instead, I lowered my gaze slightly and spoke with quiet sincerity.
"It's not that she is lacking," I said. "It's that I am inadequate. I have many flaws… flaws that I cannot in good conscience burden someone else with."
It wasn't even a lie. Somewhere between the gamer's greed, the burden of Paladinhood, and the unstable fusion of Paladin powers and Earth-born mentality… yeah, I wasn't exactly a prize. Not the kind of man a young girl deserved to idealize.
The old woman's expression shifted slightly. Something softened in her gaze, just for a moment.
Tian Mei looked utterly bewildered.
I straightened my back and continued calmly. "A broken man cannot promise happiness. He can only promise regret."
There was a long silence.
The grandmother faked a cough.
Tian Mei murmured under her breath, almost too softly to catch, "But we're just the same age..."
The old woman gave a slight sigh, as though she had enough. "Let's go," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "There are people to meet and alliances to forge, little Mei."
"I don't want to go," Tian Mei pouted, refusing to move.
"We need to go," the grandmother repeated with more weight.
"I don't want to go!" Tian Mei's voice rose higher, brimming with frustration. "Why do I have to go?"
The grandmother's eyes softened slightly, but her words remained unmoved. "It is for your future. Young Master Shu Dai is an honorable young man with good character."
The little girl bit her lip and mummed herself into silence. The resistance in her body was clear though; she didn't budge from where she sat, clinging to the space as if it were a battlefield.
"You will have a future with him," the grandmother added, her voice heavy with finality.
"I don't want to go! They will make fun of me," Tian Mei insisted, her small hands curling into trembling fists.
The old woman shook her head, her patience thinning. "And Young Master Shu Dai will protect you."
"But... he's nerdy!" Tian Mei cried, her voice cracking slightly at the end.
I almost choked on nothing, trying to hide a cough. Shu Dai? I thought. That was literally the character for 'nerdy' or 'studious.'Right? There was no way someone would actually name their kid that, right? Well, maybe different characters were used, but still... it was a bit too on the nose.
The grandmother's face hardened. She took a step forward, her voice cutting sharply through the room. "You will go because I said so. The arranged marriage has been decided, and you can only have a future with him!"
Ah, so that was the case. It clicked into place in my head.
Tian Mei wasn't just here because she thought I was handsome or powerful or any of the usual reasons girls clung to stronger cultivators. She was desperate. She was clawing for any excuse to break free from a future she didn't want… a marriage arranged for political alliance or family stability.
My hand hovered over my teacup, and for a long second, I didn't move.
I couldn't fix this for her. That wasn't my role.
But still… I felt something stir in me… a painful familiarity. A past self, standing trapped by expectations, cornered by choices made by others. Maybe that was why I didn't kick them out yet. Maybe that was why I kept listening.
I sighed inwardly.
This world really loved dragging me into problems that weren't mine, huh?
I returned to my seat and my tea.
The grandmother heaved a tired sigh, clearly fed up with the little tug-of-war. "There are only three days left before the Summit begins," she muttered, half to herself and half to Tian Mei, "and yet you have not even met your fiancé."
I sat there, feeling increasingly out of place as the old woman tightened her grip on Tian Mei's wrist. Her voice turned polite again, or at least, the kind of polite where you could hear the hidden blade behind every word as she turned toward me.
"We've stolen enough of Young Master Wei's time," she said with a curt nod. "Although it is a curious thing, Young Master… why are you holed up in your quarters when all the other young masters from the various factions have gathered to socialize?"
Tian Mei, desperate, grabbed the seat with both hands. She braced herself, but her grandmother simply yanked her up with strength that belied her appearance, pulling her away with surprising force.
I stayed seated, watching the scene play out with a sinking feeling in my gut. Nongmin told me, didn't he? "Just be yourself." No matter what decision I made, it would still be me being me.
However, he had also said I needed to stay in my quarters. I had my orders. I wasn't supposed to mingle with the other heirs and young talents. Which meant...
I activated Voice Chat, tuning my mind to Tian Mei's frequency."If you want to hide here," I told her quietly, the words transmitting directly into her head, "I don't mind. You can even bring Shu Dai with you."
Tian Mei blinked, startled by the sudden voice in her head.
"It's fine," I continued before she could panic. "No one should complain if the two of you are hanging around with the Young Master of the Grand Ascension Empire. It'll even look better for you."
I didn't say it out loud, but maybe she'd have a little more space to make her own choice if she had a safe place to retreat to.
Finally, the two of them left. The grandmother's shoes clicked sharply against the floor as she dragged Tian Mei along, and after a few more rounds of weak protests, the door finally clicked shut behind them.
The room returned to silence.
I leaned back in my seat and stared up at the ceiling. No closer to resurrecting my disciples. No closer to the real answers I sought.
Another problem dropped on my lap… not mine to solve, not really, but it was starting to weigh on me anyway. I closed my eyes for a moment and let the tension roll off me. There were three days left until the Summit. Three days to stay out of trouble. Three days to figure out a plan.
I had to trust that somewhere along the way, an opportunity would present itself. It had to.
It was late into the night when Tian Mei returned, dragging along a boy who looked like he had no idea why he was here. He had a frail frame, wore a pair of oversized glasses, and carried a nervous smile that twitched every few seconds. Still, despite his meek appearance, I noticed immediately that Shu Dai, as Tian Mei introduced him, was already at the third stage of Martial Tempering. Impressive for his age, honestly.
The two of them didn't seem to like each other very much. Tian Mei didn't even try to hide it, scowling at him whenever he got too close. Meanwhile, Shu Dai would glance at her warily, as if she might hit him if he said the wrong thing. I decided not to comment. It wasn't my job to mediate their arranged marriage drama.
I welcomed them in with a light wave. "Come in, come in," I said. "Make yourselves at home."
We started with some simple games… card tricks, word games, things that didn't need much setup. Tian Mei and Shu Dai kept their distance, but after a while, the awkward atmosphere began to loosen up. Maybe it was my stunning charisma. Or maybe they were just bored out of their minds. Either way, it was a win.
After a few rounds of games, I decided to bring out my painting tools. I set up a canvas and began working on a simple landscape. It didn't take long for Shu Dai's curiosity to kick in. He edged closer, pushing his glasses up his nose.
"Young Master Wei," he asked, voice cracking a little, "how do you make the clouds look like they're moving?"
"Trick of layering," I said, smiling. "And practice. Lots of practice."
From there, he peppered me with questions… not just about painting, but about the stars. It turned out Shu Dai was a bit of a scholar. Yeah, as if it wasn't obvious enough…Shu Dai was surprisingly talkative when it came to astronomy, going on and on about how the arrangement of stars resembled ancient formation patterns, their alignments affecting the flow of energy across the land. He spoke with such enthusiasm that I could see the faint glimmer of ambition hidden behind his timid demeanor.
Tian Mei, on the other hand, was not pleased. Every time Shu Dai grabbed my attention, she would huff and glare at him like he had just insulted her ancestors. It was almost funny. To keep the peace, I had to occasionally throw in some Earth trivia… like how tomatoes were once called "poison apples" …to steer their attention back to something lighthearted.
They loved it. Shu Dai's eyes sparkled with curiosity, and even Tian Mei managed a few genuine laughs.
The grandmother never came looking for them. Maybe she trusted that Shu Dai would keep Tian Mei in line. Or maybe she thought I wasn't enough of a threat. Either way, I was grateful for the reprieve.
As nightfall properly settled, I brought out my food stash… a colorful assortment of snacks and preserved meals from the Empire's markets. We sat around a low table, sharing stories. I told them about a "mythical land" called Earth, disguising my real memories as tall tales. They responded with wide eyes and endless questions, interrupting each other like hyperactive puppies.
After dinner, we played a few more board games I cobbled together… simple ones about matching patterns or building imaginary kingdoms. It wasn't anything sophisticated, but they loved it. Kids were kids, no matter the world.
Eventually, exhaustion got the better of them. Tian Mei was the first to doze off, her head bumping against Shu Dai's shoulder. Shu Dai stiffened like he'd been struck by lightning, unsure if he should move or not. I chuckled quietly and threw a blanket over both of them.
I leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
I hadn't made any progress toward resurrecting my disciples. No miraculous breakthroughs, no secret techniques discovered. But somehow... tonight didn't feel wasted. Maybe, in a world teetering between politics and chaos, it was enough that I could still act like a teacher, even for just a night.
It was subtle, but I noticed it… the familiar qi signatures stirring in the distance. Tao Long and Liang Na.
At some point, Tao Long had vanished without even a whisper, but now, it seemed he had returned. I wondered what kind of trouble he stumbled too as to why a simple check with the inn's staff would cause him to be gone for so long. Knowing the place, it was either a diplomatic mishap, a secret assignment, or something completely insane. Probably the third.
I activated Voice Chat, my mind brushing lightly across the link I had with them. "Meet me in the Emperor's quarters," I said. "Like… right now, if you don't mind."
I made my way there first. When I arrived and pushed the grand door open, the scene that greeted me almost made me step right back out.
Nongmin was half-dressed, struggling into what looked like a heavy set of armor while Zai Aifussed over him with a stormy expression.
"Hold still," Zai Ai snapped, tightening a strap across Nongmin's chest with a brutal tug. "For someone with imperial bearing, your manners are garbage when it comes to letting people help you."
Nongmin grunted, raising his arms awkwardly as she adjusted a cape over one shoulder. "You're the best master craftsman I know."
"Craftswoman," Zai Ai corrected immediately, shooting him a look that could melt iron.
I leaned against the doorframe and watched as they finished the work. It wasn't some ceremonial outfit; it was real armor… a hybrid design of gleaming plate for the vital zones, flexible leather along the joints, all bound together with the subtle artistry only a master smith could achieve. There was a cape too, of course. Nongmin wouldn't be Nongmin without a little theatrical flair.
Nongmin caught sight of me and gestured for Zai Ai to leave. "I need a moment alone with my grandson."
Zai Ai didn't move at once. Instead, she turned toward me fully, her qi pressing down like a heavy storm cloud. Her sense submerged me in a single, terrifying moment… the overwhelming authority of a Tenth Realm cultivator flexing just enough to make her point.
I didn't flinch. Maybe I should have, but I didn't.
Finally, Zai Ai huffed, muttering something about "stubborn children," and swept out of the room. The door shut with a sharp click.
We stood there for a while, just staring at each other. Nongmin, in his freshly equipped armor, arms crossed over his chest. Me, arms loose at my sides, waiting for him to say something first. Neither of us spoke. Five minutes passed, maybe more. It wasn't exactly awkward, but it was close.
Then, finally, movement… Tao Long stepped through the main door, his expression strained but composed. At the same time, a gust of air from the window heralded Liang Na's arrival, light as a cat, landing with the faintest whisper of sound.
I raised an eyebrow at the pair of them.
"So," I said, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Anyone gonna break me to speed?"