Yu Sheng woke up.
To be precise, he had been muttering in his head the entire time, so it was almost like he hadn’t slept at all. He had just taken advantage of the time spent pretending to doze off to circulate his spiritual energy and expel some of the alcohol from his system.
Next, he just needed to confirm whether Yin Wangzhi was also aware of things and conveniently test out Zhan Xiaotian...
As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw Yin Wangzhi not far away, standing under a tree. His shadow was faint and ethereal, unlike a fearsome ghost king; he looked more like a bound spirit killed after being used by a scumbag.
Seeing that Yu Sheng had woken up, the black figure of Yin Wangzhi slowly stepped out from the shadow of the tree and walked a few steps closer, but then he halted.
Yu Sheng remembered this distance. Back when Yin Wangzhi was not yet a ghost king, he would often stand at this distance, silently watching Yu Sheng whenever his body recovered a bit and his cultivation improved.
This had been the daily task Yu Sheng assigned to Yin Wangzhi. At noon, he would pretend to nap; sometimes he would genuinely fall asleep, while other times he just feigned it, maintaining steady breathing and heartbeats so as not to give anything away. He hoped that one day Yin Wangzhi would be able to accurately discern whether he was pretending or really sleeping, or even invade his dreams. That would mean he had truly mastered his skills.
However, in Yu Sheng’s memory, Yin Wangzhi had never completely mastered this before he left.
So, there had been many afternoons where, after waking from his nap, he would see Yin Wangzhi standing in the distance, gazing at him, day after day.
Yu Sheng had wondered whether Yin Wangzhi was simply being lazy, but upon closer inspection of Yin Wangzhi's character and temperament, he didn’t seem the type to slack off like Zhan Xiaotian, who would pretend to be good and easygoing. In fact, Yin Wangzhi had always been highly enthusiastic about their formal sparring sessions.
Just like now.
“Senior, you’re awake?”
Yin Wangzhi’s eyes held a hint of eagerness as he looked at the person in the rocking chair. “May I challenge you to a spar today?”
Yu Sheng lifted his gaze and let out a big yawn, feeling a surge of nostalgia as the scene before him overlapped with memories of the past.
Back then, Yin Wangzhi had just recovered from his injuries, standing under the tree every day, waiting for the gluttonous, lazy old man to wake up. He didn’t take his assigned tasks seriously but insisted on waiting for Yu Sheng to wake up to ask for a spar, believing himself to be fearsome and intimidating, convinced he could win.
Decades later, Yin Wangzhi had become the ghost king. No longer just “thinking he was fierce,” he truly had the ability to “silence children’s cries at night.” He was no longer simply “believing he could win” but was genuinely capable of creating uncertain outcomes.
Yu Sheng recalled that he had indeed promised to spar with the ghost king to soothe him.
He didn’t rush to get up. He subconsciously raised his hand to stroke his beard, then remembered he no longer had that disguise, so he paused momentarily in midair before dropping it down to touch the white ball nestled on his belly, smiling.
“Things are different now…”
Such sentiments felt like words only a “master” could say, causing Yin Wangzhi’s pupils to constrict slightly and his fingers to tremble.
The white ball resting on Yu Sheng's belly seemed to freeze for a moment as well.
Yu Sheng yawned again, rubbing the corner of his eyes, and finished his sentence, “I, Yu Yangzi, have been in seclusion for more than a century. I'm no longer the spirited young man I once was…”
In a spot Yu Sheng couldn’t see, the tension in Yin Wangzhi’s eyes relaxed slightly, and the light in his eyes dimmed a little.
The near-exposure of his identity had turned into a nostalgic sigh, reinforcing the image of his disguise. Yu Sheng, seemingly unaware, stretched lazily again before patting the armrest of the rattan chair. The white dumpling hopped off his stomach, and he slowly stood up.
Back in the day, Yin Wangzhi would make this request to spar every day, only for Yu Sheng to find various excuses, sometimes dealing with him half-heartedly with a few casual moves. Every day, Yu Sheng would nag at him, “Wait until you’ve fully recovered,” or, “Once you've mastered your skills.” And Yin Wangzhi would always vow, “Next time, I’ll force Senior to take me seriously.”
In truth, Yu Sheng was just too lazy to put in the effort. And when he was finally less lazy and Yin Wangzhi’s skills had more or less caught up, his procrastination kicked in again…
And so, they kept delaying the sparring match until the task was done.
Yu Sheng wasn’t ready to expose himself yet, and he deliberately said some ambiguous things just to observe Yin Wangzhi’s reaction. Now that he had observed enough and drawn his conclusions, it seemed like delaying things wouldn’t be a problem…
He rubbed his nose and noticed, for once, that the system didn’t chime in with its usual sarcastic remarks. Back then, the system had berated him for tricking kids. It seemed the lingering effect of his earlier stream of thoughts was still keeping the system quiet.
“Lord Yin…” Yu Sheng spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words. “Tomorrow is... his memorial day. Sparring shouldn’t be rushed.”
He considered the Ghost King's current strength, recalling the combat scenes he had witnessed through the Yun Cloud, and couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous.
If they really had to determine a winner, it wouldn’t be just a simple sparring match. Holding back would be pointless and would definitely make Yin Wangzhi unhappy.
But if they didn’t hold back and took it seriously, it would consume a lot of time, energy, and effort.
Just look at Zhan Xiaotian and Yin Wangzhi—they had been fighting for decades, and no one could say who was stronger. Yu Sheng certainly didn’t want to end up in a fight that lasted a hundred years.
Wouldn’t it be nice to just bask in the sun every day, drink some wine, enjoy good food, and be a happy couch potato?
Oh, right, he didn’t have any points to count.
In any case, a proper sparring match couldn’t be finished before tomorrow. And with a 90% chance that Yin Wangzhi had already figured out his identity, Yu Sheng didn’t want to take unnecessary risks.
If it were just against Yu Yangzi, they could stop before things got too serious. After all, no one else knew whether Yu Yangzi had declined in strength. But since Yin Wangzhi saw him as his master, there was no way he could hold back. Considering the determination Yin Wangzhi had shown when blowing up his grave last night… yeah, the reasons for postponing far outweighed any guilt.
Yin Wangzhi looked disappointed, but he didn’t argue and seemed to accept the delay easily enough.
As he was about to leave, Yu Sheng called out to him, asking, “Earlier, you mentioned that you wanted to prove something through this sparring match. Can you tell me what exactly you want to prove?”
Yin Wangzhi hesitated for a moment and began to speak, “I…!@#￥%……&*（）”
Just as he was about to say something important, an ear-piercing, chaotic noise suddenly filled the air. It was like thousands of televisions on full volume, all blaring static, directed straight at Yu Sheng. It also resembled a storm of ASMR with completely ruined sound quality.
Yu Sheng: “…???”
What the hell?
Thankfully, the noise only lasted as long as one sentence before disappearing as abruptly as it came.
Yin Wangzhi: “…so that’s why I wanted to spar.”
Yu Sheng: “Uh... I didn’t quite catch that. Can you say it again?”
Yin Wangzhi was silent for a moment. As soon as he opened his mouth again, the noise resumed at full blast. This time, he gave up and kept quiet.
Yu Sheng stood there, completely confused and frustrated, looking around to find the source of the noise.
When silence finally returned, Yin Wangzhi’s shoulders seemed to sag just a tiny bit, like he was sighing. Without another word, he turned and quickly left.
Not only that, Yin Wangzhi also drew his sword.
If Yin Wangzhi had seemed calm and peaceful earlier, the Ghost King now was just as irritable and fierce, roaring furiously toward the inner room, “Zhan Tiangou, get out here!”
Yu Sheng's body trembled, both shocked by the realization of the source of the earlier noise and oddly feeling a strange sense of synchronicity with his second disciple. He even had a bizarre urge to sip tea leisurely and comment, “You two are really close, even calling each other nicknames.”
Wait, thinking carefully… that actually made some sense. Yin Wangzhi, with his serious personality, had never given anyone a nickname before.
The best kind of nonsense is the kind that can even convince yourself.
Following the direction Yin Wangzhi’s sword pointed, Yu Sheng indeed saw Zhan Xiaotian emerge.
Two days had passed, and Zhan Xiaotian’s leg bones had already shown an extraordinary capacity for healing, with only a few cracks left that hadn’t fully mended. From the surface, it was hard to tell how deep the injury had once been. But even at this level, he wasn’t in any shape to fight again.
Just as Yu Sheng was considering whether or not to intervene, he noticed the sword in Zhan Xiaotian’s hand was humming and vibrating uncontrollably. The sword spirit was agitated, seemingly about to break free from its master’s control at any moment.
…Strange?
He remembered this sword. The ancient sword spirit attached to it was one he had gifted years ago, named Chixin, which had bonded deeply with Zhan Xiaotian. It had already acknowledged him as its master through a blood ritual, and the process of taming it had gone particularly smoothly.
So why did it now seem as if the sword spirit was rebelling?
Could it be that sword spirits go through rebellious phases too?
Yu Sheng was puzzled, but before he could figure it out, that familiar noise came back again. This time, it wasn’t just loud, deafening, and headache-inducing. Upon closer observation, he realized the sound was coming from the ancient sword spirit itself!
On the surface, the noise was unbearable, but for cultivators at their level, no amount of sound should be able to completely block out other noises or cause them such headaches. Clearly, this noise carried some of the sword spirit’s power.
But the sword spirit had long since accepted its master. After so many years, it should have reshaped its sword soul and become completely in tune with Zhan Xiaotian’s thoughts. It shouldn’t be acting out like some wild artifact spirit…
Unless, it wasn’t the sword spirit acting out, but rather the sword spirit reacting to its master’s inner turmoil, venting and releasing the pent-up emotions on his behalf.
Humans know how to endure and how to put on a façade, but sword spirits are straightforward—they only care about whether they feel unrestrained. If the master was bottling up so much that it led to inner turmoil, it was natural that the sword spirit would lose control.
In the blink of an eye, Yin Wangzhi had already attacked, engaging Zhan Xiaotian in battle. Simultaneously, the terrifying noise stopped. Yu Sheng focused his gaze and saw that Chixin had indeed calmed down, returning under Zhan Xiaotian’s control.
Yu Sheng looked at the ancient sword spirit, which seemed ready to ignite and destroy everything in its path, and then at Yin Wangzhi, whose expression was cold and grim as he helped Zhan Xiaotian suppress the sword spirit with his attacks. The scene left Yu Sheng feeling disoriented—he couldn’t reconcile the negative aura of the sword spirit with the image of Zhan Xiaotian, who was a bit goofy and childish.
Then, suddenly, a strong, pungent smell of vinegar wafted over, carried on a gust of cold wind. Yu Sheng wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air, slowly realizing that this sour smell seemed to be coming from the two people fighting?
Oh my??? You good??
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