Chapter 16: After I Grow Up

Among family, besides hugs, there were often intimate acts like kissing each other on the cheek—this was something Yi Jinxiang had taught him today.

After learning this, Wenren Sheng’s mind was filled with the thought that he absolutely had to kiss the Mountain God once, to let him know how much he liked this family member, the Mountain God.

He hadn’t expected that even after steeling himself mentally, his heart would still be so unsettled at this moment!

Wenren Sheng didn’t dare look closely at He Mu’s reaction. He flew into the bedding, desperately wrapping himself into a bundle.

Perhaps because the motion was too big, as he hid in the covers, Wenren Sheng felt his heart thumping wildly, like a little bird hopping around chaotically in his chest, almost about to fly out.

He covered his face, his whole body hot as a freshly baked sweet potato, even his breathing a bit disordered.

“No, calm down quick!”

Wenren Sheng patted his cheeks.

Otherwise, it would be too embarrassing. Which great hero was so unsteady, getting shy like this just from kissing a family member?

Thinking of his heroic demeanor, Wenren Sheng quickly took several deep breaths and reined in his emotions.

…Right! Read a book.

Wenqu Star had said that reading could quickly calm one’s mood.

With that in mind, Wenren Sheng hurriedly jumped off the bed and lit the oil lamp.

After steadying his breathing a bit, Wenren Sheng finally wrestled his attention free from the scene of that cheek kiss.

He carefully unrolled the scroll Yi Jinxiang had given him.

“Read, read—don’t get distracted at all,” Wenren Sheng warned himself.

The scroll wasn’t hard for Wenren Sheng to read, especially since Yi Jinxiang had given him a lesson today, and he now recognized more basic characters.

He focused his mind and soon smoothly read through half of it.

The scroll was even more interesting than storybooks, recording strange tales and anecdotes unknown to the mortal world—Wenren Sheng loved reading it.

But when he reached the section on the “Emotionless Dao,” Wenren Sheng faintly felt the text grow obscure and hard to understand, and his pace slowed.

He couldn’t make out the first line of that chapter.

He pointed at each character one by one, reading slowly: “Back then, the three thousand threads of affection went… left name on the Emotionless Stele, chanced upon… the secrets of heaven?”

“Emotionless Stele?” Wenren Sheng tilted his head. “What’s that?”

He flipped a few more pages before he understood.

The Emotionless Stele was a stone in the Heavenly Court.

It stood behind the Moon Elder Temple in the Heavenly Court’s back mountain, engraved with the dharma names of all the immortals who had ascended via the Emotionless Dao.

Once a dharma name was inscribed there, those immortals’ past ties of kinship were utterly severed. They could not respond to or express affections in any way, nor could they ever form new emotional bonds with anyone.

“So that’s how it is…”

That was too pitiful.

Wenren Sheng was still young and didn’t understand romantic love at all. He just thought it was terrifying to be unable to have family.

Besides, immortals lived for so many years—wouldn’t it feel lonely and bleak to always be all alone?

He half-understood as he finished reading the chapter. By then, it was nearly the hour of Hai, so Wenren Sheng yawned and put away the scroll.

He groped groggily to his bedside and slipped under the covers.

“Emotionless Dao…”

Wenren Sheng murmured the words with half-open eyes.

Would he cultivate the Emotionless Dao in the future too?

Just how “emotionless” did one have to be to qualify for ascension?

Did it require killing many people, or severing all ties with blood kin?

Wenren Sheng rolled over, rubbing his face against the soft bedding, and slowly closed his eyes.

No matter what, Wenren Sheng didn’t want to be an emotionless person.

Perhaps mortal love was like his feelings for family—a process of conveying love that required unwavering sincerity, one person’s approach and another’s acceptance.

Wenren Sheng was the type to give his true heart.

For anyone he liked, he would actively choose to draw close and lay bare all his feelings to them.

But he didn’t have much courage—maybe only enough to try wholeheartedly once.

After taking Wenren Sheng as her disciple, Yi Jinxiang’s temperament changed quite a bit for some reason.

In the past, she wouldn’t step out of her Snake Lair, but now she was willing to rush over from Cang Province, ten thousand li away, every day just to teach Wenren Sheng for a day.

Wenren Sheng was also very diligent. He no longer slept in during the mornings but waited early in the quiet room. If Yi Jinxiang didn’t come, he would obediently sit inside reviewing his books.

Several months passed like this, summer yielding to autumn.

That day, after class ended, Wenren Sheng saw the Mountain God waiting for him at the mountain gate as he saw Yi Jinxiang off.

He leaned against a pine tree by the broken bridge, teasing a chubby little sparrow perched on his hand.

Wenren Sheng thus stood on the other side of the broken bridge, deliberately watching him silently to see how long it would take him to notice.

But the Mountain God was the Mountain God after all—Wenren Sheng had been spotted the moment he looked over.

Noticing Wenren Sheng’s gaze, He Mu’s lips curved slightly. He gently pushed his hand forward, and the sparrow flapped its wings, wobbling toward Wenren Sheng.

“Chirp.”

Wenren Sheng soon felt a weight on his head as the little bird tucked in its wings and nested in his hair.

“Looks like,” He Mu teased him.

What did that mean? Saying he resembled this little fat sparrow, or that his hair was like a bird’s nest?

Wenren Sheng huffed lightly, carefully cupping the sparrow in both hands and setting it on a nearby stone stele.

“I don’t have wings,” Wenren Sheng said.

He Mu’s eyes curved as he said, “Then how does a wingless little bird plan to fly over?”

Hearing this, Wenren Sheng kicked a pebble at his feet and looked down at the canyon below the broken bridge.

This was the place where they had first met—back then, Chen Lian had been bullying him while grabbing him, and He Mu had thrown a sword down to split them apart, saving Wenren Sheng.

The bridge had collapsed then too.

To this day, it remained broken, unrepaired. Wenren Sheng was always carried across.

But now Yi Jinxiang had left, and no one was there to carry him back.

He kicked at the pebbles for a moment, then took a few steps back, posing as if to run and leap across.

In the future, he would become a great hero skilled in lightness skill—this little gap certainly couldn’t stop him today.

Besides, the Mountain God was on the other side.

Even if he fell, he’d be caught.

With such thoughts, Wenren Sheng sprinted a few steps and leaped up at the cliff’s edge.

He Mu watched Wenren Sheng’s jumping figure, a faint smile on his face.

Just as Wenren Sheng was about to fall, He Mu finally raised his hand and caught the homeward-bound fledgling swallow into his arms.

!

“I made it over!”

Wenren Sheng flung himself into He Mu’s arms, hugging his neck and cheering excitedly.

“No wings and I still flew over!”

Wenren Sheng was very light, but he’d been fattened up a bit over the past half year—holding him felt comfortable, like a soft dough. He Mu thus held the child down and ruffled his hair vigorously.

“Such a big daredevil—what if you fell?”

Wenren Sheng said confidently, “You’d catch me.”

He Mu smiled and asked, “And when you grow up?”

Wenren Sheng scratched his face thoughtfully, then nodded. “Same thing. Even grown up, you can still catch me.”

He figured no matter what, he wouldn’t grow too big—he could always hide in the Mountain God’s arms.

Besides, “growing up” was a future matter. Wenren Sheng felt he had lots and lots of time, enough for the Mountain God to catch him lots and lots of times.

He Mu smiled without speaking. He set Wenren Sheng down, then half-squatted to meet his eye level.

“Shengsheng,” He Mu smoothed the hair at the back of his head and asked, “Do you want to go see your spirit root?”

Spirit root?

The half he’d lost and regained?

Wenren Sheng immediately perked up. He bounced in place twice, excited. “Yes!”

“Mm,” He Mu spread his hand, signaling him to hold on. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to the back mountain.”

Wenren Sheng nodded and placed his hand in He Mu’s palm. The moment their skins touched, the scenery around them shifted.

“Ah!” Wenren Sheng yanked his hand back in fright. “You scared me to death!”

Though he’d seen immortals’ Earth-Shrinking Divine Technique before, suddenly being whisked to an unfamiliar place still made him a bit afraid.

Fortunately, they were still within Fragrant Ze Mountain.

Wenren Sheng looked around.

The back mountain’s terrain was a bit higher. He’d always lived in the Divine Temple—this was his first time looking down from such a height.

After the start of autumn, the whole mountain seemed slow-roasted by the autumn sun, covered in scorched yellow. Wenren Sheng could almost smell the fragrance of fallen wild fruits.

It was a beautiful autumn.

He looked to the other side and saw a pool of icy water steaming white mist at the center of the encircling back mountains, clashing starkly with the golden autumn scenery.

Wenren Sheng sensed a familiar aura rising from the depths of that icy pool. Unable to resist, he left He Mu’s side and leaned over the gap between two low peaks, peering down.

“Heavenly Spiritual Root… is it down there?”

He Mu hummed in affirmation and looked toward the icy pool with him.

“The natural qi of spring and autumn is too vigorous. I moved Ten-Thousand-Year Ice from the Northern Border here to temporarily stop it from absorbing more natural qi.”

Wenren Sheng gave a vague “oh” of half-understanding.

No wonder this time, approaching the Heavenly Spiritual Root didn’t make his body feel so uncomfortable.

He Mu spread one hand and asked, “Want to go down and talk to it?”

Wenren Sheng nodded. “I want to try.”

He Mu obliged. He scooped up the boy, stepped onto a low peak, and leaped lightly, landing gracefully before the icy pool.

Only when nearing the pool’s edge did Wenren Sheng feel the power of the Ten-Thousand-Year Ice.

He was dressed thinly to begin with, and the fierce cold wind slashed like icy blades across his face, freezing him into shivers.

He hurriedly hid behind He Mu, hugging his leg tightly lest the wind blow him away.

“Heavenly Spiritual Root… hic—really here?”

Wenren Sheng shouted laboriously against the wind.

He Mu stood unmoving and slowly raised his hand, spreading a barrier in front of Wenren Sheng.

He said slowly, “Do you feel the Heavenly Spiritual Root’s aura?”

Wenren Sheng’s breathing instantly smoothed out. He clutched his chest and let out a long breath.

Once his aura stabilized, the flow of spiritual power in his body became even more pronounced—even his fingertips grew slightly hot, as if spiritual power might leak out at any moment.

And for some reason, Wenren Sheng even felt a strong impulse to jump straight into this freezing pool.

Wenren Sheng steadied his mind and nodded. “I feel it.”

He Mu squatted down, wrapped an arm around Wenren Sheng’s waist, and leaned close with him, both gazing at the icy pool.

“Soon, I’ll send you here,” He Mu said. “You’ll stay for a while, coexist with the Heavenly Spiritual Root, then reconnect it as part of you.”

Wenren Sheng’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at He Mu.

“But…”

“Shh.” He Mu pressed a finger to Wenren Sheng’s lips. “Feel the Heavenly Spiritual Root’s aura carefully. What is it saying to you?”

Wenren Sheng was a bit dazed. He stared blankly at the icy pool, white mist drifting over the still water like countless spirits slowly circling the pool.

Feel.

What was it saying?

“…”

Gradually, Wenren Sheng felt the wind in his ears fade to stillness. The whole world paused in this moment—even the Mountain God became mere background.

Between heaven and earth, only he remained, along with those ghostly cold auras.

He soon understood what the Mountain God meant by “feel.”

The “spirits'” emotions clung to every inch of his skin, slowly seeping into his perception.

It was a kind of…

indifference, arrogance, utter freedom—nothing like his own aura.

It felt more like—

“Emotionless Dao…”

Wenren Sheng murmured instinctively.

He Mu’s expression shifted slightly. He hesitated. “What did you say?”

Wenren Sheng snapped back to himself. Remembering Yi Jinxiang’s warning, he quickly shook his head. “Nothing. Just that the Heavenly Spiritual Root’s aura feels very cold, like a stranger—nothing like me at all.”

He Mu nodded. “That’s normal too. The Heavenly Spiritual Root’s been separated from you too long, absorbed too much external qi, and sometimes develops its own thoughts. Just communicate more with it once you’re in seclusion.”

Wenren Sheng responded affirmatively, then grabbed hold of He Mu’s clothes and hesitated before speaking. “…Right, has the Mountain God been ‘doing good deeds’ lately? Has he accumulated a lot of merit?”

He Mu replied vaguely. “Mm, more or less.”

“Then what did you do?”

“Killed some people.”

Wenren Sheng pressed. “Why do you need to kill people to accumulate merit?”

“That’s adult business. Kids shouldn’t meddle.”

“Tch.” Wenren Sheng pursed his lips. “I’m not a kid.”

He was almost at his birthday and would turn a year older soon.

He had wanted to probe about the Emotionless Dao, but the Mountain God did not seem willing to say more, so Wenren Sheng did not pursue the matter.

He stared at the cold pool for a moment longer before asking one final question. “Then how long do I have to stay here?”

He Mu gazed at the bottomless cold pool, his eyes darkening slightly.

He said indifferently, “It’ll probably take about five years. I’ll guard you well until you emerge from seclusion.”

Five years.

Wenren Sheng counted on his fingers.

That would make him fifteen.