Chapter 115: The Old White-Bearded Man

“No matter if you use it for tea or for brewing wine, it possesses effects that ordinary poria simply cannot match. This is truly a treasure…”

He reached out to touch the piece of “root,” gently stroking its dry, rough body.

At the same time, the “root” seemed to sense danger, trembling slightly as if it feared Master Hao’er.

“You needn’t be afraid,” Master Hao’er’s face softened into a kindly smile. “I won’t harm you.”

“Though you are an herb, you have developed spiritual intelligence, becoming a spirit of the plants. I would never take your life needlessly.”

Master Hao’er always kept his word; since he said he wouldn’t dig up this poria, he really wouldn’t. He brushed the dirt from his robe and was about to leave, but suddenly, a surge of intuition stirred within him.

This was the harmony of Dao, the unity of heaven and man.

When a cultivator reaches a certain level, such sensations often arise. Master Hao’er knew that something relevant to him was about to happen, or was already happening—otherwise, heaven would not offer a warning.

He glanced silently at the “root” before him, withdrew his right hand into his sleeve, and swiftly calculated with his fingers. Soon, he gained a hint of understanding.

“So that’s it. The one destined for you isn’t me, but my dear disciple.”

“If that’s so… someone who always keeps his word might have to break it this time.”

“There’s no help for it. Since you are fated with my disciple, I must offend you now.”

“One day, when you meet my disciple, you will naturally regain your freedom.”

With a peculiar look, Master Hao’er eyed the “root,” lifting his hoe.

“Little one, don’t blame me for being cruel. Following my disciple is a great opportunity for you.”

“Growing in the earth, absorbing the spirit of heaven and earth and the essence of sun and moon, would take you centuries just to take form.”

“Better to borrow my disciple’s body to nurture your transformation—it could save you countless years!”

“Moreover, only those of extraordinary fortune and talent become my disciples. With him, you’re bound to benefit greatly.”

“That you share such a deep bond and fate with him is your fortune and blessing!”

As he spoke, Master Hao’er’s hoe fell with the force of thunder, striking not the “root” itself, but the soil beside it.

“You old scoundrel!”

At that moment, the “root,” which appeared utterly ordinary to Chang Yu, suddenly spoke.

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t dig me up? Why have you suddenly changed your mind?”

The voice sounded so familiar.

Chang Yu was stunned by the mischievous, clear child’s voice, then realized—wasn’t that Yangyang’s voice?

So, after all that measuring, the old “root” was Yangyang?

Even before taking form, Yangyang was already sly as a monkey. His sudden outburst wasn’t meant to win Master Hao’er’s sympathy, but to buy himself a bit of time while Master Hao’er was caught off guard.

He darted out of the soil and shot up into the sky.

“Goodness, I never knew a poria could fly.”

Watching Yangyang radiate yellow light, Chang Yu was overwhelmed with disbelief.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Master Hao’er flicked his sleeve, and a large gourd flew out.

It was a simple, ancient-looking gourd—the same one Chang Yu had seen on the medicine shelf.

A fierce suction drew from the mouth of the gourd, pulling leaves and stones into it as if swept by a whirlwind.

The wind howled, trees in the mountain forest bent under its force, and even Yangyang, who had soared into the sky, could not escape.

“Ahhhh!”

Yangyang was sucked back with even greater speed, or rather, dragged back by the strange wind.

In a blink, he was swallowed by the gourd, without the slightest chance to resist.

Seeing Yangyang captured, Master Hao’er wasted no time. He extended two fingers toward the gourd, a radiant white light sparkling at his fingertips.

The white light shot out, sealing the gourd’s mouth tightly. Master Hao’er, satisfied, capped it.

“Shameless old man! Where is this place? Why is it so dark? Let me out!”

Yangyang’s frustrated voice echoed from inside the gourd, muffled by its belly.

“You little rascal, with your meager skills you think you can contend with me? Far too green.” Master Hao’er calmly stroked his goatee, the picture of a sage.

“Best you stay in the gourd for now. When your opportunity arrives, you’ll come out naturally.”

“Now I’ll teach you a secret method to transform using a human body. Listen carefully to the incantation: *…*%@…”

“One day, should you encounter my disciple, recite this incantation and enter his body.”

Witnessing all this, Chang Yu realized he’d been set up by his master.

“Bah! I knew this was my master’s doing!”

Anger blazed in his heart; Chang Yu was furious to the extreme.

His clenched teeth made his cheeks bulge, and a crisp crunch sounded from his mouth.

“I always wondered how a grown man could suddenly have a child—turns out it was all arranged ahead of time by that old fox, even the incantation Yangyang used to take form was taught by him!”

“And I was puzzled how my master knew about my child before I told him!”

“So it was all premeditated—a naked conspiracy!”

“Going out for drinks? I bet master just ran off to avoid me for this very reason.”

“You old scoundrel! Pay me for my lost youth, pay for my bleak life! Compensation for my mental trauma, for my psychological scars!”

Meanwhile, Master Hao’er had just tucked the gourd back into his sleeve and was about to leave when he suddenly halted.

“Wait!”

He finally realized, “When did I get a disciple—how come I don’t know about it?”

He’d been so busy he nearly forgot—

He had always been a solitary practitioner; he never took disciples.

“Though lately I’ve considered taking one, I haven’t spread the word yet. So how did I get a disciple?”

Master Hao’er frowned and calculated with his fingers. After a while, his brow relaxed: “Ah, it’s a disciple I’ll take in the future. I thought I’d developed amnesia!”

“Hmmm… so my disciple met me in a dream. How unusual. Still, such talent suits the cultivation method of our poria lineage.”

“So my disciple isn’t from this world. How curious. But it’s not something impossible to accept.”

“After all, there are countless worlds among the heavens, innumerable great worlds. We mustn’t discriminate against those from other realms.”

“As long as someone can be my dear disciple, I care not from which world they hail. I will treat them as my own.”

“I’ll regard them as my own child. Though I’m getting on in years, I have yet to marry—an exemplary figure in the realm of the single!”

The dawn gently unfolded its curtain, sunlight streaming through the curtains into Chang Yu’s room.

“Mm, morning already!” Yangyang rubbed his eyes, blinking drowsily.

Just awakened, his thoughts were still unclear; he needed a moment to gather himself.

He tried to sit up, but realized something crucial.

He—Chang Xiaoyang, veteran of the poria realm, leader of the transformation world, paragon of plant spirits—was…

Tied up on the bed, bound hand and foot. This startling discovery made him cry out:

“Chang Yu! Chang Yu!”

“Is Katerina here? Has she come?”

“Save your breath, Katerina’s not here.” Chang Yu squatted beside Yangyang’s bed, gently picking at the dirt under his nails, a gleaming kitchen knife beside his feet.

He had waited there for a long time, anticipating Yangyang’s awakening.

His face wore a warm, spring-like smile, gentle as a scholarly neighbor.

But Yangyang knew something was off about Chang Yu—very off.

“What happened?” Yangyang wondered, and asked aloud, “Why am I tied up?”

“You promised Katerina you’d fulfill your responsibilities in raising me.”

“But this is how you do it? You two-faced man!”

“I’m your own flesh and blood, and this is how you treat me?”

“I only have one question.” Chang Yu’s gaze was calm and steady, devoid of personal emotion.

“Did you and my master plan it all along—using my body for your transformation?”

“I only have one question.” Chang Yu’s gaze was calm and steady, devoid of personal emotion.

“Did you and my master plan it all along—using my body for your transformation?”

“That…” Yangyang was instantly speechless. His big eyes darted about, just like a child about to lie.

“You’d best tell the truth,” Chang Yu said, lighting a cigarette and letting the white smoke obscure his face.

Today, Chang Yu was destined to be melancholy, troubled, and filled with sorrow.

“If you dare lie, I’ll mete out justice, sever ties, and send you to Katerina—maybe you’ll even serve your country.”

(End of chapter)