Chapter 14: Farewell, Master

"Ah, life is just too hard!" Chang Yu returned home utterly exhausted and collapsed onto his bed with a heavy thud.

Compared to physical fatigue, it was the weariness in his heart that weighed most heavily.

"What kind of world is this? Why do people nowadays lack even a shred of gratitude?" Chang Yu complained bitterly.

"I showed off my most heroic posture to save that woman who was teetering on the edge of life and death."

"Yet not only did she fail to thank me, she even had the nerve to curse me!"

"From the desperate wails she let out, it was clear she was breathing out more than in. If I hadn't saved her, she'd have truly died."

His eyes, wide and bewildered, were filled with confusion at the way that elegant woman in the cheongsam had lashed out at him.

No matter how he explained himself, no matter how earnestly he told her he was a good person, a righteous warrior fighting against evil, she refused to listen.

She either screamed at the top of her lungs, making his head throb, or hurled insults at him until his eyelids twitched.

Honestly, even Chang Yu felt he had been wronged!

Is it really so hard to do a good deed these days?

Watching her pull out her phone and dial the emergency number without hesitation, Chang Yu knew he couldn't linger any longer.

Never mind the complications that would follow once the police arrived; Chang Yu, with his noble principle of doing good without seeking recognition, couldn't allow hollow honors and rewards to corrupt his virtuous heart.

Though he had saved a life, it didn't mean he wanted the police to come and commend him.

So, before the woman could finish speaking to the officers, Chang Yu slipped out of the dark alley in a few quick flashes, hiding his merit and name.

After a series of twists and turns, he finally caught the late-night bus and made it home.

He lay on the bed for a while, then took out his phone and played a horror film he’d downloaded in advance.

As the eerie soundtrack filled the room again, Chang Yu shivered beneath his covers.

He felt a chill race up his spine, tickling his scalp, then circling back down. The sensation was—sharp, tingling, almost like the taste of first love.

"How terrifying!" Chang Yu clutched his chest, trying to calm himself.

"No matter how many times I watch them, horror films are always the scariest!"

"I really don’t understand why these movies have so many viewers."

"Could it be that, like me, they’re all looking for a thrill before bed?"

"The reason people dream is entirely because some brain cells remain active and excited during sleep."

"If you watch enough horror films before bed, your nerves stay tense and alert."

"And if your nerves remain tense and alert, even in sleep, your brain cells stay active and excited."

"This method is perfect for inducing dreams. Didn’t I manage to dream last night using it?"

"Though what I dreamt wasn’t the Fuling Valley I longed for, and it was somewhat frightening, at least it was a dream!"

"Doesn’t this mean my theory is correct? As long as I keep my nerves taut, I’ll definitely have more dreams at night."

"Tonight, I’ll watch more horror films before bed. One must always have ideals—perhaps I’ll see my master again?"

"I have so many questions for him—about cultivation, about Fuling Valley, and… about money."

"No matter how scared or timid I am, I must force myself to finish this horror movie. Even if the neighbors curse me, even if I wet the bed again, I must see my master once more."

"Given the situation, the job as Zhao Dasheng’s bodyguard is definitely done for. Since there’s no money to be made, why not borrow some from Master?"

"Otherwise… I really won’t be able to pay the rent! Surely, as an immortal, he can’t be short of money?"

With these anxious thoughts, Chang Yu steeled himself and watched the horror film.

Whenever a frightening scene appeared, he covered his mouth with his hand, stifling his screams.

After last time’s lesson, he dared not disturb the neighbors again—he was a young man of good manners, after all.

Finally, he forced himself to finish the entire film, breathing a long sigh of relief.

Pulling back the covers, he found his bed dry—no unpleasant smells, no dampness, just as before.

"Today I grew up—I didn’t wet the bed." Chang Yu nodded with satisfaction, an unfamiliar sense of pride swelling in his chest.

Grandpa Director, Brother Wang, Zhao Dasheng—you surely don’t know, do you?

Today, I, Chang Yu, did not wet the bed!

Not wetting the bed meant his courage had grown, and his resistance to horror films was gradually increasing compared to yesterday.

He set down his phone with contentment, slowly closed his eyes, and drifted into sleep.

In his dreams, he again saw the ghost woman from the horror film.

She had disheveled hair, wearing a long, ancient red dress and embroidered red shoes, clawing her way toward Chang Yu.

And Chang Yu, just like yesterday, dashed away with no dignity, terrified she might catch him.

He cried, pleaded, begged with every word he could muster, but never managed to persuade the ghost to spare him.

At last, he ran out of strength, unable to flee any further.

As the ghost reached him, raising her sharp claws to tear him apart, the dream abruptly shifted to a place filled with birdsong and fragrant flowers.

At that moment, Chang Yu hadn’t yet realized he’d escaped the nightmare.

He covered his eyes with both hands, trembling in a corner, murmuring, "Immortal lady, spare me, spare me! You don’t know—I have a master who’s incredibly powerful!"

"If you kill me for no reason, my master will surely avenge me. You may be strong, but you’re definitely no match for him."

"So, for your own safety, you’d better not kill me. That way, everyone wins!"

Right now, Chang Yu was the very picture of pathetic, weak, and helpless misery, shivering in the corner.

"My dear disciple, what has happened to you? Look how scared you are—your face has gone pale."

Seeing Chang Yu so distressed, Master Hao’er approached with a smile, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement—he seemed to be taking some pleasure in Chang Yu’s plight.

Chang Yu: ......

Hearing that familiar voice, Chang Yu froze, his trembling stopped entirely.

He slowly lowered his hands and looked up, pitifully gazing at Master Hao’er.

Looking at him, Chang Yu felt he was seeing his closest kin.

His eyes brimmed with the purest emotion, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

A cry bursting with affection erupted from his lips: "Master!"

"You’ve finally appeared! Your disciple has been searching for you so bitterly these days!"

"You have no idea how much I’ve suffered in trying to find you!"

"My heart aches!"

Chang Yu dropped to his knees before Master Hao’er, clutching his leg, crying and sniffling as he poured out his grievances.

Judging by his posture, he wouldn’t rest until he’d vented all the pent-up sorrow of the past few days.

"Alright, alright! Get away from me. Why is it every time I see you, you’re like this?"

Master Hao’er pushed Chang Yu away with disdain, but hadn’t expected the boy to cling like sticky candy, refusing to let go.

Only after Chang Yu had wailed enough did Master Hao’er finally escape his disciple’s "leg-hold".

Seeing Chang Yu still dazed, he sighed helplessly. "Tell me, what happened to frighten you so?"

"There was a terrifying ghost woman chasing me—I was scared out of my wits," Chang Yu complained, his voice trembling.

"The details are like this, blah blah blah… blah blah blah… blah blah blah…"

Master Hao’er laughed heartily, "So it was just a nightmare? Don’t worry, that ghost is merely an imaginary enemy, she can’t actually harm you."

"Even if she were real and tried to attack you through dreams, it wouldn’t be so easy."

"After all, you’re now a cultivator at the Condensation stage, not an ordinary mortal—ordinary ghosts can’t hurt you."

"Besides, even if you really did run into a ghost, just square up and punch her. You’re a grown man, what’s there to fear?"

"You have to learn to resist, not lose your nerve and think of running away at the critical moment. That’s no good."

Master Hao’er spoke lightly, as if the ghost who’d terrified Chang Yu was nothing but a minor nuisance in his eyes.

Chang Yu had no way to refute him—for even he felt that his behavior had been shamefully cowardly.

He quickly changed the subject, raising the question he cared about most: "Master, is there something wrong with our cultivation method?"

Master Hao’er bristled. "Our Fuling lineage’s method is top-tier—how could there be a problem?"

"The highest immortal technique, the Fuling Heart Sutra, has been refined and perfected by countless generations of masters; it’s flawless."

"But when I practice the Fuling Heart Sutra, the spiritual energy flows intermittently, and I feel stuffy and even pain in my chest—is that normal?" Chang Yu asked, uncertain.

Master Hao’er was startled. "I practice the Fuling Heart Sutra myself, and I’ve never felt stuffiness or pain in my chest. Have you made a mistake in your cultivation and gone astray?"

"Hurry and circulate the Sutra—let me see where the problem is." At the thought of Chang Yu’s possible mishap, Master Hao’er’s expression turned serious.

Chang Yu immediately sat cross-legged, circulating his true energy as he practiced the Fuling Heart Sutra, just as he remembered.

Then something surprising happened.

The Fuling Heart Sutra flowed smoothly, his true energy coursed unimpeded, completing a full cycle quickly; the stuffiness and pain in his chest vanished as if by magic. It was entirely different from what he’d experienced at home.

"Strange, the Sutra runs perfectly now. Could the discomfort I felt at home have been an illusion?" Chang Yu stopped cultivating, his expression deeply puzzled.