Despite his advanced age, the old Taoist priest was quite agile. Although his cultivation level was not high, he had never been sick and could easily drink several kilograms of liquor a day.
Qin Moyu happily followed the old Taoist priest into the house, back to his familiar home and place. He pulled the old Taoist priest aside and told him all the strange and interesting things that had happened on the way, making them vivid and interesting. His radiant appearance softened the old Taoist priest's expression.
After telling his story of his journey, Qin Moyu was tired, so the old Taoist priest sent him back to his room to rest while he went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.
"Master, I want to eat twice-cooked pork—" Qin Moyu clung to the door frame, drawing out his voice.
"Eat, eat, all you know is how to eat." The old Taoist snorted, but did not refuse Qin Moyu's request.
Qin Moyu received a response and returned to her room satisfied.
The room was furnished the same as before he left, but there wasn't a speck of dust on the bed after he'd been gone for so long, which showed that the old Taoist priest had cleaned and tidied it up quite a bit while he was away.
Qin Moyu took a wooden slip from the bookshelf, lay down on the bed, and began to read.
But what Qin Moyu didn't know was that while he was reading, someone else was watching him.
Master Xuanjing was still in that lakeside pavilion, a wine gourd hanging from his waist. The lake surface magically projected Qin Moyu's actions after entering the secret realm. He stared at the lake, his gaze unwavering.
When Xuanqing came to find him, this was the appearance he saw. When he discovered that Master Xuanjing was still watching the disciple-acceptance ceremony trial, he was surprised: "Uncle-Master, are you thinking of taking on disciples?"
Chapter Thirteen: Getting Along with My Arrogant Master - Online Reveals...
Master Xuanjing knew he had arrived, but his eyes never left the lake. He simply hummed in response, leaving Xuanqing unable to fathom his thoughts.
Speaking of the Guanlan Sect's disciple-acceptance ceremony, seven levels of cultivators came for Master Xuanjing, but Master Xuanjing didn't think much of any of them. Since more than ten years ago, he only came back once for some business. When asked where he went, he refused to say. However, he did take some cultivation techniques and books from the sect one after another.
Although these things are precious, True Person Xuanjing has no use for them at all.
“If my uncle is interested in this person, should I call him over?” Xuanqing asked tentatively.
In truth, he hoped that Master Xuanjing would take on a disciple. After all, if there is one, there will be a second. The title of the number one person below the Tribulation is too dazzling. Even he had the idea of having his grandchildren become Master Xuanjing's disciples. Unfortunately, Master Xuanjing refused to take on any disciples.
“No, no need.” Master Xuanjing was about to agree, but then he remembered something and refused. Looking at Qin Moyu’s carefree appearance in the illusion, he sighed helplessly, “I’ll go find him myself.”
Xuan Qing's eyes twitched. This was the first time he had ever heard Master Xuan Jing say that he would take the initiative to find someone. It was really strange.
"By the way, what brings you here?" Master Xuanjing asked.
Upon hearing this, Xuan Qing remembered the purpose of his visit and quickly cut off the image of Qin Moyu, replacing it with a place shrouded in black mist, causing Xuan Jing Zhenren, who had intended to reprimand him, to frown.
"What's going on?" Master Xuanjing activated his spiritual energy, and the black mist in the image dissipated somewhat, revealing a figure that could be vaguely seen inside.
The figure seemed to sense something and looked up, meeting Xuanjing Zhenren's gaze directly through the thick fog.
"It's still unclear. Everyone else's illusions are normal, but this person's illusion is strange. We asked Xuan Li, but he didn't know why either. But we can be sure that there's nothing wrong with the formation," Xuan Qing said honestly.
Xuan Li is the most skilled elder in Guanlan Sect in terms of formations. If even he said there was no problem with the formation, then there must be no problem.
"What's this person's name?"
"Let me see—it seems to be called Shen Yebai."
Shen Yebai.
The name made Master Xuanjing pause in his movements. He raised an eyebrow and leaned back lazily: "Oh, it's him. Then it's alright."
"Huh?" Xuanqing was confused.
"It's nothing. It's just that this guy's illusion is abnormal. You don't need to worry about it." Master Xuanjing snorted. The more he looked at Shen Yebai standing there in the picture, the more annoyed he became. He drew a few lines in the air with his index finger, and a stream of light flew into Shen Yebai's illusion.
The once quiet illusion was suddenly filled with the low growls of wild beasts. Shen Yebai gripped his longsword and with a backhand swiftly sliced a beast that pounced on him in half at the waist. The severed beast instantly turned into smoke and vanished without a trace.
Shen Yebai frowned, holding his sword horizontally in front of him, becoming extremely vigilant.
One wild beast is nothing, but what is terrifying are the countless beast eyes gleaming with a cold light within the black mist.
"Since you're so bored, I'll give you some exercise." Master Xuanjing opened the wine pot and took a vicious gulp.
Xuanqing didn't know where Xuanjing Zhenren's great frustration came from, but he chose not to ask and left silently.
One was the powerful Xuanjing Zhenren, whose strength far surpassed his own, and the other was a cultivator who made Xuanjing Zhenren grit his teeth but whom he couldn't bring himself to kill. Since the illusion was harmless, he didn't need to bother with it.
Master Xuanjing settled a personal score, but not wanting to see Shen Yebai's face, he waved his hand and switched the lake back to Qin Moyu's side.
Qin Moyu lay on the bed. Wooden slips were the most commonly used way to preserve records in the cultivation world. With just a little spiritual energy, the ink could appear on the wooden slips, and the pages could be turned like a book, which was much more convenient than simply writing with ink.
Qin Moyu reviewed the previous article, but when she scrolled down, she found that the rest of the article was blank.
He didn't pay any attention, simply put the wooden slip back, and started tinkering with things in the room.
The small wooden sword his master made when he was six, the kite he made with his master when he was seven, the wooden cart his master brought him when he came back when he was eight... all sorts of things, big and small, filled Qin Moyu's room. Only when Qin Moyu looked through them did he realize that each item was full of memories.
Qin Moyu picked up the small wooden sword, on which three words were crookedly carved: Qin Moyu. He remembered the day his master carved the words, his brows furrowed, his face flushed, concentrating intently for fear of making a mistake, and couldn't help but laugh.
"What's wrong? Why are you laughing so happily?" The old Taoist priest was standing at Qin Moyu's door at some point. Seeing Qin Moyu sitting on the ground with a bunch of messy things in front of her, he went over to take a look.
"Looking at some old things, you can see my name is still on them." Qin Moyu said with a grin, pulling the old Taoist priest down to sit with him on the ground. At this moment, they were no longer the powerful cultivators who could command the wind and rain, but rather like an ordinary grandfather and grandson, chatting shoulder to shoulder.
"What's so interesting about old things?" The old Taoist priest looked at the name on the wooden sword with disdain, but his body betrayed him by sitting down.
"Old things are what make them interesting. As the saying goes, just like old wine gets better with age."
"Hmph, the oldest item is right in front of you, but you don't even glance at it."