Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Su Ming’s heart relaxed, and he quickly reached out, respectfully accepting the jade slip.

His divine sense probed into it, and rows of book titles flooded his mind:

“Three Thousand Questions on the Path of Formations: Introductory Chapter”

“Analysis of Ancient Runes: Star Volume”

“The Profound Meaning of Five Elements Formation Circulation”

“A Preliminary Study of Spiritual Energy Waveforms and Formation Resonance”

…

There were over a hundred books in total, and every single name exuded an air of profound difficulty and obscurity.

“Thank you, Master.” Su Ming tucked the jade slip into his robe and bowed sincerely.

He knew the value of this jade slip far surpassed any magical treasure or elixir. It was a stepping stone on the path to becoming a grandmaster of formations.“Go on.” Xuanheng waved his hand and closed his eyes again, seemingly preparing to re-enter meditation.

Su Ming bowed once more, ready to take his leave.

“Oh, by the way.”

Xuanheng’s voice suddenly rang out again, as if casually mentioned.

“Your Second Senior Brother was talking about you a few days ago. That kid’s an eccentric loner, spends all day dealing with beasts. When you have time, head over to Beast Peak. Don’t let him stay with those spirit beasts so long he forgets how to speak human.”

Su Ming’s steps faltered, his body stiffening slightly.

He hadn’t quite processed that.

“…Disciple will keep that in mind.” He hesitated, then replied.

Xuanheng seemed not to notice his unease and continued, “And your Third Senior Brother, he’s been messing around with some new formation plate again, says he’s researching the ‘Eighteen Artistic Expressions of Self-Destructing Puppets.’ He’s already blown himself up three times in his cave dwelling.”

“When you have time, go check on him. Don’t let him blow himself to pieces.”

“That kid’s brain might be fried, but his talent in formations is the best among you few. It’d be a waste to lose him.”

The corner of Su Ming’s mouth twitched uncontrollably.

Eighteen Artistic Expressions of Self-Destructing Puppets?

What the hell was that all about?

He felt like he hadn’t joined Formation Peak, but rather some… strange zoo.

“…Disciple will do my best.” Su Ming forced the words out through gritted teeth.

“Mm.” Xuanheng let out a nasal sound, then fell silent.

Su Ming didn’t dare linger. He quickly bowed, turned, and hurried out of Star Pivot Hall.

Only when the hall doors slowly closed behind him, cutting off that deep, starry-eyed gaze, did he let out a long breath of relief.

In his consciousness sea, Lin Yu’s lazy voice rang out.

“See that? This is the price of being a true disciple.”

“Before, you were a nobody, no one bothered with you. Now? Master gives you homework, plus two ‘dead weights’ to deal with.”

Su Ming grimaced, heading down the mountain while replying in his mind, “Master, I have this feeling… the Master doesn’t seem too happy?”

“Not happy?” Lin Yu scoffed. “What do you know? This is ‘love you in his heart, hard to say out loud.’ If he was really unhappy, would he have given you a reading list? Would he have mentioned your two senior brothers?”

“This old man is forcing you into this little circle.”

“One kid who only talks to animals, another lunatic who might blow himself up at any moment. Kid, your life in the sect looks like it’s going to be very eventful.”

Su Ming looked up at the distant, mist-shrouded peaks, feeling that the road ahead was long and filled with uncertainty.

He had just gained… two “family members” who needed his care?

…

Exiting Star Pivot Hall, Su Ming didn’t return to Gazing Star Cliff.

He followed the bluestone-paved mountain path downward, passed through several patches of bamboo groves wreathed in thin mist. The solemnity and majesty of Formation Peak’s main hall gradually faded, replaced by a more lively, everyday atmosphere.

Xuanheng’s instructions echoed in his ears, and Su Ming turned his steps toward a cluster of cave dwellings on the mountainside.

Even from a hundred zhang away, a plume of blue smoke was clearly visible, rising straight up from the courtyard of one dwelling, as if some mortal cook had forgotten his pot and burnt the meal.

The wind carried a burnt, acrid smell, mixed with the unique, pungent odor of spiritual energy gone wild.

Su Ming’s heart tightened, and his steps involuntarily quickened.

Luo Feng’s cave dwelling gate was slightly ajar, with a half-burned talisman hanging from the door hinge, swaying gently in the mountain breeze.

Su Ming reached out and pushed open the gate.

The next moment, he stopped in his tracks, his raised hand frozen mid-air, as if he had been hit by a paralysis spell.

The courtyard was a complete mess.

Seven or eight broken puppets were scattered everywhere in bizarre poses. Some were missing arms, slumped against the wall, sparks still sizzling from the broken metal stumps. Some had lost their legs, their upper bodies lying on the ground, with the remaining hand still weakly clawing at the earth.

The worst was the one in the center of the courtyard. Its entire head was gone, leaving only half a black-smoke-belching neck, while its two legs still twitched rhythmically in place, as if performing some eerie dance.

Luo Feng was squatting in the middle of this landscape of “art.”

His face was covered in black soot, a lock of hair had been singed, curling against his forehead. His robe, once fairly neat, now had several holes, their edges blackened with burn marks.

In his hands, he held a palm-sized formation plate. At its center, a spirit stone was glowing an ominous red, with fine arcs of electricity dancing across its surface.

“This time it’ll work… this time it’ll work…”

Luo Feng seemed not to notice Su Ming at the entrance, muttering to himself, his eyes fixed on the plate, his expression both focused and manic.

“Don’t blow up, don’t blow up, don’t blow up…”

His words hadn’t even faded when the spirit stone at the center of the formation plate suddenly flared with blinding light.

“Bam!”

A dull thud.

A visible shockwave exploded from the formation plate, kicking up dust and fragments of puppet parts from the ground.

Luo Feng was thrown backward by the blast, rolling three times on the ground before hitting the metal torso of a legless puppet with a solid “thud.”

The puppet wobbled, and one of its remaining arms fell off, landing right on Luo Feng’s forehead.

Su Ming raised a hand and rubbed his own brow.

“Third Senior Brother, what are you…”

Luo Feng clutched his forehead, grimacing as he sat up. Seeing Su Ming at the gate, his eyes lit up instantly, their brilliance outshining the spirit stone that had just exploded.

“Su Ming!”

He scrambled over, nearly tripping and face-planting into the dirt.

“You’re just in time! Quick! Quick! Help me look at this formation plate!”

Luo Feng grabbed Su Ming’s hand and shoved the half-destroyed, still-smoking wreckage of the plate into it, his tone excited as if he had found a treasure. “I’ve already failed twenty-three times! I’m so close, so damn close!”

Su Ming took the scorching hot remains, its surface still warm to the touch.

His divine sense sank into it. One glance, and he immediately saw the problem.