Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Su Ming silently recited the creed Lin Yu had once taught him deep in his heart.

He forced himself to calm down. Master was only sleeping, not gone forever. He had to prove, during this time without Master’s protection, that he was no longer the wild mountain boy who needed guidance at every turn.

He pulled a yellowed ancient book from his storage pouch.

This was a text he had borrowed from the second floor of Formation Peak’s library before his departure, and the first foundational core on the reading list Master Xuanheng had bestowed upon him—*Three Thousand Questions on the Path of Formations: Introductory Edition*.

He sat cross-legged on the wooden boat’s deck and flipped open the pages.

The wooden boat glided steadily through the clouds. Below, the vast land spread out like a slowly unfurling scroll painting.

Su Ming immersed all his attention in the pages.

His divine sense was exceptionally powerful, allowing him to read at incredible speed. This book didn’t teach profound killing formations but began with the most basic flow of spiritual energy, exploring the origins of formations.

”Heaven and Earth gave birth to the Two Polarities; the Two Polarities transformed into the Four Symbols. The beginning of formations was not man-made, but the natural flow of Heaven, Earth, mountains, and rivers...”

As Su Ming read the words, his mind automatically conjured up the two hundred basic runes he had already mastered.He had achieved effortless control over the major categories of runes: ”Gathering,” ”Control,” ”Solidify,” ”Flow,” ”Concealment,” and ”Balance.” He built microscopic models in his mind, trying to use the book’s theories to explain why these two hundred runes twisted one way and curved another.

Time slipped by, drop by drop.

Occasionally, Su Ming would lift his head to glance at Elder Qingquan ahead.

The elder always sat with his back to him, cross-legged at the bow of the boat. He wasn’t meditating or cultivating, nor was he controlling the airship. He simply stared motionless at the sea of clouds before him, occasionally rubbing that red clay wine gourd in his hand, like a weathered statue.

He hadn’t spoken a single word.

Yet looking at that slightly stooped figure in gray robes, Su Ming suddenly felt that this unconventional nominal master, though miserly with words, provided a ”sense of security” that was incredibly solid.

That feeling didn’t come from the elder’s cultivation level, but from the fact that his presence alone was like a stabilizing pillar, anchoring this small boat—racing through the heavens at tremendous heights—firmly between Heaven and Earth.

Su Ming withdrew his gaze and looked back at the ancient book in his hands.

Under the sunlight’s refraction, the ink on the pages seemed to come alive, transforming into dancing runes that continuously broke apart and reassembled in his Consciousness Sea.

Without Master feeding him answers directly, he had to learn to chew through these astringent truths of the formation path on his own.

The sea of clouds stretched endlessly, and the wooden boat was like a solitary falling leaf, silently descending toward the dusty, bustling mortal realm.

.......

The airship traveled above the clouds for an entire day.

Throughout that day, the wooden boat was terrifyingly quiet. Elder Qingquan seemed to have entered a meditative trance, his posture unchanged.

Su Ming, meanwhile, was completely submerged in the world of *Three Thousand Questions on the Path of Formations: Introductory Edition*.

Without Lin Yu—his ”cheat device” always ready to answer questions—Su Ming’s process of study became excruciatingly difficult.

Before, when he encountered an unfamiliar combination of runes, Lin Yu could always use the simplest explanations—even tossing in modern physics concepts in outbursts—to pinpoint the crux of the problem. Now, Su Ming had to rely entirely on himself.

”The ’Flow’ character governs the conduction of spiritual energy, and the ’Balance’ character governs the stability of nodes... but when constructing the Minor Heavenly Cycle Water Rhythm Formation, if these two runes are stacked at the Kan position, why does spiritual energy accumulate?”

Su Ming’s brows were tightly knit, and his fingers unconsciously traced invisible patterns on his knees.

In his mind, two faintly glowing runes were attempting to forcibly merge. Each contact triggered a violent rejection, like water and fire refusing to blend.

”Master, how exactly do I...”

Su Ming instinctively called out in his Consciousness Sea.

Before he could finish, he snapped back to reality. The Consciousness Sea was empty and hollow, with only the deep blue glow of the Like Water Art slowly circulating. The ring remained deathly silent, offering no reply.

Su Ming’s fingers froze mid-air.

He let out a bitter laugh, shook his head, and forcefully crushed this sense of dependency. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and mobilized all two hundred basic runes he knew by heart.

”No, it’s not a problem with the runes—it’s a problem with the medium. ’Flow’ governs change, ’Balance’ governs stillness. One moves, one remains still. They can’t collide directly; there must be a buffer.”

Fine beads of sweat broke out on Su Ming’s forehead. His divine sense furiously deduced at the microscopic level.

Once, ten times, fifty times.

Not until the thousandth deduction did he try adding an extremely obscure variation of the ”Concealment” rune between ”Flow” and ”Balance” as a lubricant for the energy.

”Hum—”

In his Consciousness Sea, the three runes perfectly clicked together, forming a stable triangle of spiritual energy. The puzzle that had plagued him all day suddenly became clear.

Su Ming let out a long exhale of stale air and opened his eyes. This kind of realization, bitten out through his own stubborn effort, was a hundred times more profound than what others could pour into him.

Just then, Elder Qingquan, who had been silent at the front, suddenly spoke in a flat tone.

”The path of formations is like a blind man touching an elephant. The elephant’s leg others tell you about is ultimately theirs. Only the mud and dirt you get on your own hands by feeling it out—that is your path.”

Elder Qingquan didn’t turn around. His voice, mixed with the high-altitude wind, sounded somewhat ethereal.

Su Ming’s heart trembled violently.

Although the elder hadn’t looked at him, he had clearly detected the chaos and eventual calm in Su Ming’s spiritual energy fluctuations. This old man, seemingly unconcerned with everything, had it all under his watchful eye.

”Master’s instruction, this disciple will keep close to heart,” Su Ming replied respectfully.

Elder Qingquan said nothing more, just lifted his wine gourd and shook it, as if somewhat satisfied with Su Ming’s understanding.

On the morning of the second day, the surrounding environment began to change dramatically.

The sea of clouds grew thin. Below, the land was no longer lush green mountains and forests, but vast stretches of cultivated farmland, crisscrossing official roads, and villages and cities clustered like ants.

Even more noticeable was the change in spiritual energy.

Su Ming clearly sensed that the free-floating spiritual energy in the air, which had been easy to capture, was plummeting at a precipitous rate.

Replacing it was a murky ”mortal world energy,” mixed with cooking smoke, sweat, bloodshed, and the countless desires and emotions of ordinary people.

To a cultivator, this energy was like being thrown into a swamp. The flow of liquid spiritual power within his body began to slow, as if bound by an invisible shackle.

This was the natural suppression the mortal realm exerted on cultivators.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Su Ming immediately activated the Aura Concealment Art at full force. He retracted the spiritual power of a Foundation Establishment cultivator inside him, bit by bit, until it was locked tightly within the small space of his Dantian.

To an outside observer, the aura he now emitted wasn’t even as strong as a third-stage Qi Refining cultivator. At best, he seemed like a martial arts swordsman who had practiced some rough internal techniques.

The rule of the Way of Survival: When in Rome, do as the Romans do. Pretending to be a true immortal among mortals brought no benefit except making oneself a living target.