Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

The next morning, Su Ming followed the stone path out of Gazing Star Cliff. From a distance, he saw Xuanheng Zhenren standing on the plaza outside Star Pivot Hall, his hands clasped behind his back.

His dark blue Dao robe remained utterly still in the morning breeze, and his gaze was fixed on the depths of the sea of clouds, as if he were deducing some extremely profound formation.

Su Ming quickly stepped forward, stopping three zhang away from Xuanheng, and was about to bow respectfully when—

”Master! Master, wait for me!”

Accompanied by an extremely urgent sound of tearing air, a fiery red beam of light shot from another mountain path on Formation Peak, braking sharply at the edge of the plaza.

The light dispersed, revealing Luo Feng’s face, which was blackened with smoke. His personal disciple robe had several large holes torn in it, the edges singed. In his hand, he clutched a Mystic Iron formation plate that had cracked in half, the fracture still emitting faint black smoke.

”Which formation eye did you blow up this time?” Xuanheng didn’t turn around; his voice was as calm as a dry well.

Luo Feng let out two chuckles.

”I didn’t blow up any formation eyes. I was just testing a new miniaturized chain-burst formation in the back mountain. Ran into a bit of a bottleneck, so I came to ask Master for guidance...” Luo Feng said as he sidled closer, his eyes scanning Su Ming twice. ”Junior Brother Su is back?”

Xuanheng slowly turned around, his gaze resting for a moment on Luo Feng’s grimy face.”Go to Pill Cauldron Peak.” Xuanheng uttered just four words.

”Pill Cauldron Peak?” Luo Feng casually stuffed the broken formation plate into his storage pouch. ”Master, this burst formation problem isn’t urgent. I heard the fire veins on Pill Cauldron Peak have been acting up recently. I could go do some field research and gather data for Formation Peak. I’ll come with you!”

Xuanheng stared at him for several breaths.

He knew his disciple all too well. Luo Feng wasn’t going to survey any fire veins; he clearly saw that today’s business was no small matter and wanted to tag along to see the excitement—and maybe snatch some top-grade fire-type materials from Pill Cauldron Peak to make a puppet core.

”Come along. Watch your mouth.” Xuanheng didn’t refuse, sweeping his sleeve and leading the way down the mountain.

Luo Feng, as if granted amnesty, quickly winked at Su Ming and hurried after him.

The three of them walked in silence, passed through Formation Peak’s mountain gate, and stepped onto the chain bridge leading to Pill Cauldron Peak.

As they drew closer to Pill Cauldron Peak, the temperature in the surrounding air rose sharply. The crisp, clear starlight spiritual energy from Formation Peak was gradually replaced by a scorching, frenzied earth-vein fire energy.

Su Ming clearly sensed that his own practice of the Like Water Art, which had been flowing smoothly, now encountered a slight hesitation under the suppression of this extreme environment.

”Water and fire counteract each other. Pill Cauldron Peak must have drawn the entire underground fire vein to use as a formation base,” Su Ming silently calculated, subtly adjusting his spiritual energy circulation path and retracting all outward energy deep into his dantian.

Elder Qingyang’s cave dwelling wasn’t built on the peak’s most luxurious summit but on an extremely secluded platform halfway up the mountain.

Following an overgrown narrow path, the three reached the end, where a dilapidated courtyard gate stood half-open.

Inside the courtyard, no rare spiritual herbs were planted. Instead, it was piled with neatly split spiritual firewood. The air was thick with a dense medicinal fragrance, and even a faint scent of burning.

A thin, red-faced old man sat on the threshold.

He wore a gray Dao robe that looked like it hadn’t been washed in ages, his sleeves rolled up high, revealing two arms as dry as withered branches. In his hand, he held a piece of discolored cloth, vigorously wiping a dark-red, three-legged, double-eared alchemical furnace before him.

The furnace’s surface was covered in intricate flame runes, and as the old man wiped them, a faint red light occasionally flickered.

Xuanheng didn’t disturb him. He walked straight into the courtyard and stopped before the cracked stone table at its center.

Luo Feng stood beside Su Ming, craning his neck to look at the old man, muttering under his breath, ”This old man is Elder Qingyang? He looks more like a fire-tending menial...”

”Shut up.” Xuanheng’s voice was barely a whisper.

Luo Feng immediately clamped his mouth shut and stood up straight.

Xuanheng slowly raised his right hand and gave a steady brush over his storage pouch.

Three exquisitely crafted jade boxes appeared side by side on the stone table.

Without a word, Xuanheng flicked open the lids of the three boxes in turn.

”Whoosh—”

The moment the boxes opened, three completely different yet equally terrifying auras clashed and intertwined violently in the cramped courtyard like three invisible storms.

The Nine Netherworld Lotus released a deep blue, icy light that instantly formed a thick layer of frost on the stone table’s surface. The Phoenix Rebirth Branch’s blazing red heat, hot enough to melt metal and stone, instantly evaporated the frost into clouds of white mist. And the Ten-Thousand-Year Sky-Blue Stone Marrow’s vibrant green light, representing the ultimate vitality, forcefully carved out a domain brimming with life within the white mist.

The red-faced old man sitting on the threshold abruptly stopped wiping the furnace.

He slowly set down the cloth.

The frenzied aura in the surrounding air seemed to have no effect on him. He stood up, and his frail body suddenly radiated a steady, mountain-like presence.

He walked step by step to the stone table, lowered his head, and his bony fingers hovered in the air, slowly passing over each of the three main ingredients.

He didn’t touch them, merely sensing the fluctuations of the interwoven spiritual energy.

Deathly silence fell over the courtyard, broken only by the soft rustle of the wind through the firewood pile.

A full half-incense stick of time passed.

Elder Qingyang finally raised his head. His once-cloudy eyes now burned with two blazing, piercing lights.

His gaze didn’t go to Xuanheng but directly across the stone table, landing on Su Ming and Luo Feng.

”Which one is the Medicine Lord?” Qingyang’s voice was extremely hoarse, like two pieces of dry wood rubbing together.

Without any hesitation, Su Ming stepped forward, placed his hands together in front of him, and gave a deep bow.

”Junior Su Ming greets Elder Qingyang.”

Qingyang didn’t immediately tell him to rise. Instead, he half-squinted and looked Su Ming up and down.

”Mid-stage Foundation Establishment.” Qingyang withdrew his gaze. ”The Dao foundation is indeed damaged. And the repair method is incredibly crude, trying to forcibly stitch it together with stellar force. Complete nonsense.”

Su Ming maintained his bowing posture, but his heart was in turmoil.

His Dao foundation being damaged and repaired with stellar force using Kintsugi was one of his biggest secrets. This elder, who had sealed his furnace for a century, had seen through it all with just one glance.

Qingyang turned his head to look at the silent Xuanheng.

”You’re willing to part with these, aren’t you?” A cold, sarcastic smirk pulled at Qingyang’s shriveled red face. ”The Nine Netherworld Lotus, the Phoenix Rebirth Branch, and this drop of Ten-Thousand-Year Sky-Blue Stone Marrow. Any Nascent Soul great circle cultivator would be tempted to kill for these three treasures. You, Xuanheng, pulled out these heaven-defying items for a Foundation Establishment junior. Aren’t you afraid his fragile vessel won’t be able to bear such overwhelming fortune and will just shatter into ashes?”