Chapter 45: Since He Is My Future Disciple, What Harm in Tricking Him Once
The footsteps drew closer, making Han Yu's heart pound wildly. In a panic, he shoved the Dao Scripture back into place.
Damn!
The spine was facing inward, the back cover outward—it was upside down!
But the creak of the door hinge had already sounded. He had no time to adjust, and could only force himself to remain calm, hurrying forward to greet the entrance.
Mo Daoren pushed the door open, his emaciated figure beneath the black robe like a shadow. His sinister gaze swept over Han Yu, brows knitting. "What are you doing here?"
Han Yu quickly bowed, his tone respectful. "Disciple encountered a bottleneck while cultivating the Longevity Art and came to seek Master Mo's guidance."
Mo Daoren did not immediately respond, but slowly entered the study, his eyes scanning the room. Cold sweat seeped down Han Yu's back, yet he dared not lift his head, fearing his eyes would betray his guilt.
"A problem in cultivation?" Mo Daoren finally spoke, his voice raspy. "What problem?"
Han Yu's heart tightened—he had not prepared a question!
With no choice, he forced himself to say, "It is the stagnation felt at the Shanzhong acupoint during qi circulation…"
Mo Daoren's eyes suddenly chilled. "Did I not explain this to you just two days ago?"
The air froze.
Han Yu's fingertips trembled, but his face showed only shame. Bowing lower, he muttered, "Disciple is dull-witted… At that time I failed to fully comprehend it. Even after pondering deeply, I still cannot resolve it, so I thickened my skin to come again for instruction…"
He stole a glance upward, observing Mo Daoren's expression.
As expected, at the mention of the Longevity Art, Mo Daoren's look eased slightly. He gave a cold snort, but in the end endured, once more explaining the method of circulation.
Han Yu feigned sudden enlightenment, nodding repeatedly. At last he bowed in gratitude, eyes brimming with emotion. "Thank you for your guidance, Master Mo! This disciple will return and practice diligently!"
Mo Daoren waved him off.
Han Yu, as if pardoned, turned to leave. His steps remained steady, but his palms had already been cut and bloodied by his own fingernails.
Only when he stepped out of the courtyard did he finally exhale in relief.
He had managed to bluff his way through…
Yet just as he secretly rejoiced—
Inside the study, Mo Daoren's gaze fell upon the bookshelf.
That Dao Scripture lay quietly in its place—back cover outward.
Mo Daoren narrowed his eyes, his withered fingers slowly stroking the spine.
"Heh…"
A cold laugh of unknown meaning echoed faintly through the empty study.
…
Back in his small room, Han Yu quickly locked the door, then slumped to the ground with his back against it.
His fingers still trembled, cold sweat soaking through his inner garments.
"Mo Daoren… what is he scheming?"
Clutching his robe, he replayed those sinister eyes in his mind. He was but a farmer's son, without even half a spirit stone—why would a senior elder show such special interest in him?
"Even if he wanted my life, it would bring him no benefit."
Han Yu suddenly recalled the warm current that flowed within him whenever he cultivated the Longevity Art. Each time, Mo Daoren would stand silently in the shadows, his eyes gleaming with a terrifying hunger.
"I cannot continue cultivating this."
He resolved firmly, even if it was the only method to change his fate.
In recent days, he had indeed sensed the faint stirrings of a breakthrough. It should have been a joyous event.
But now, thinking back, perhaps this was precisely what Mo Daoren had been waiting for.
He could not guarantee what might happen if he broke through. Perhaps nothing. But Han Yu was cautious by nature; he would not gamble his life on the goodwill of another.
Outside, a blood-red moon hung high.
Han Yu pulled out the jade gourd from beneath his pillow, its cold touch calming his heart slightly. He suddenly remembered the words of the fortune-teller in Qingyang City:
"You are destined to meet a benefactor. Once you pass this tribulation, your future will be limitless…"
"Benefactor?" Han Yu gave a bitter smile. "Right now the blade is already at my neck—where is this so-called benefactor?"
No. He could not just sit and wait for death.
Whether or not that so-called benefactor appeared, he had to find a way to survive, and best of all, uncover what it was the demonic Daoist truly sought!
Exhausted, he lay down. After tossing and turning, he gradually drifted into sleep, unaware that upon the roof tiles above, his "benefactor" reclined lazily in white robes against the ridge.
Heh, so you finally thought of me?
Watching the loyalty rise from five to ten: a trustworthy stranger.
Chen Chang'an gave a faint, mocking smile and raised his wine jug for a swig.
The liquor was strong, its taste much like the er guo tou he had once drunk in his previous life, carrying with it a flavor of home.
So when he left Fu'an City, Chen Chang'an had purchased some to take along.
Now, as he swirled the jug in his hand, moonlight danced between his fingers. "The moonlight on this mountain truly is a touch purer than in the city."
Through the roof tiles, his "sight" glanced at the sleeping youth, the corners of his lips curling. "As expected of a child of destiny, to notice something amiss so quickly. However—"
The jug tilted, and a drop of amber wine fell, scattering into a tiny flower of liquid upon the black tiles.
"Your so-called 'Master Mo' does not want your life at all…"
But as he thought of what he was about to do, his old face flushed, suddenly feeling he was being rather hypocritical.
Then he thought again—since this was his disciple of the future, what harm in tricking him once?
The night wind stirred, and Chen Chang'an's figure faded like smoke. In the next moment, he appeared inside the room.
That Han Yu had so keenly perceived Mo Daoren's problem was good for him, but not necessarily good for Chen Chang'an as his teacher.
If the child of destiny solved the problem on his own, how could he still take him as a disciple? How could loyalty continue to rise?
Thus, watching the youth shift unconsciously in his sleep, Chen Chang'an showed a faintly apologetic smile. He then pressed a single finger gently to the boy's brow. Very quickly, under his impossibly precise control, the rough true essence slipped quietly into Han Yu's dantian.
In his sleep, the youth completed the final step of his breakthrough.
"Welcome to the world of cultivation…" Chen Chang'an mouthed the words, silently offering congratulations, before disappearing once again.
Only the low snoring of the boy remained in the room.
…
The next morning.
Still sitting on his bed, Han Yu felt the qi sea within his body flowing in a self-sustaining cycle, his expression utterly bewildered…
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