The person who had intervened was naturally Shi Zhaorong.
His natal weapon was a longbow named Heaven Collapsing, an Earth grade divine artifact. In addition, he possessed five immortal grade arrows, each with a different ability. When used together, they could sweep away everything in their path, striking their targets with unfailing accuracy.
In the original novel, Shi Zhaorong frequently settled the outcome of battles with a single arrow from hundreds of meters away. He never needed to enter the battlefield himself, nor did he allow even a speck of dust to stain his immaculate appearance.
It was the very definition of showing off.
This was also one of the reasons so many readers had found him irritating.
Not knowing whether the newcomer was friend or foe, Meng Shu remained on guard, keeping his hand firmly wrapped around the hilt of his blade.
Shi Zhaorong relaxed his grip, and the longbow disappeared, dissolving into countless points of brilliant light before returning to his spiritual residence.
He lowered his eyes and examined the young man standing on the cliff.
The other party had covered his face with black cloth and wrapped himself up so thoroughly that very little of his appearance was visible. Only his pair of cold, sharp eyes remained exposed. They resembled those of a lone wolf watching its enemy, their piercing intensity unmistakable even from a considerable distance.
They were exactly the same eyes he had seen in his dream.
Suppressing the fluctuations in his emotions, Shi Zhaorong asked in a calm, unhurried voice, “Are you Meng Shu?”
His tone was as gentle as a breeze passing through the air, yet the moment those words reached Meng Shu’s ears, half his body seemed to turn cold.
He had never used his real name while traveling through the Great Wilderness. At present, he was even deliberately disguising his appearance.
How had this person recognized him?
The brief relaxation in Meng Shu’s vigilance after Shi Zhaorong put away his weapon vanished instantly. His guard rose to its highest level once again.
“Your parents died shortly after you were born?”
Meng Shu remained silent. He assumed the other party had more to say. Surely, this person hadn’t gone out of his way to lie in wait for him just to point out that he was an orphan, had he?
Shi Zhaorong continued, “When you were twelve, your spiritual root was tested and found to be of inferior quality, leaving you with no chance of pursuing the immortal path. From that point onward, people began calling you a good for nothing.”
Meng Shu still remembered the moment the spiritual root assessor had announced that he possessed an inferior spiritual root beneath the blazing sun when he was twelve years old. Before that day, the treatment he had received had mostly consisted of indifference and neglect. Afterward, however, it had turned into disgust, hatred, and a desire to see him disappear from the world as though he had never existed.
This man certainly knows how to find someone’s sore spots and press on them.
Shi Zhaorong hadn’t finished speaking yet. “You were once left homeless and forced to wander from place to place. You didn’t manage to find even a little stability until you were eleven, when you went to live under the roof of your fiancée’s family. Unfortunately, they had no intention of treating you well. About a year ago, they used their connections to arrange for you to be sent to a small sect as a menial servant, where you would be left to fend for yourself. Unable to endure the humiliation, you publicly declared a three year agreement and fled.”
The system was practically panicking. [Why are you telling him everything I’ve spoiled for you?!]
Shi Zhaorong looked puzzled. Was he not allowed to say it?
The system had never warned him against doing so, either.
“Then should I stop talking?”
[You’ve already said everything!]
Shi Zhaorong’s words brought back several unpleasant memories for Meng Shu.
The Ning family owed his parents an enormous debt of gratitude. Bound by a blood oath, they had been left with no choice but to take him in when he came knocking on their door.
However, they looked down on him, an orphan with no one to rely on and no extraordinary talent to speak of. Rather than treating him as a member of their household, they simply left him in a dilapidated, abandoned estate and sent him a small amount of rice and other provisions each month to keep him alive.
As for the precious daughter of the Ning family, the young lady with whom he had been betrothed, she was someone far beyond his reach.
Even before his spiritual root was tested, the Ning family had consistently avoided discussing the marriage agreement. After the test revealed his inferior spiritual root, they became even more eager to dissolve the engagement at every opportunity.
However, the Ning family cared about its reputation and had no desire to be branded as a family that broke its promises. Rather than openly cancel the engagement, they deliberately made life difficult for him, hoping he would eventually become so miserable that he would beg them to release him from the agreement himself.
When he refused to comply with their wishes, they intensified the humiliation, making his life even more unbearable.
This continued until Ning Yao joined the Feixian Sect and became one of its promising new disciples.
At that point, the Ning family could no longer sit still. They feared that Meng Shu would become an obstacle to Ning Yao’s future, so they eagerly sought a way to remove him from the picture. Their solution was to send him away to work as a menial servant in another sect.
In Ning’an City, quite a few people knew of Meng Shu’s existence and were aware that he was the son of the Ning family’s benefactors. Because of their reputation, and because they feared the backlash of violating their blood oath, the Ning family didn’t dare harm him directly.
However, once he entered the sect they had arranged for him, no one would know who he was. There would be countless ways to make things difficult for him, and he might even die without ever discovering how it had happened.
Naturally, Meng Shu had no intention of going.
Fortunately, he had also discovered a way to cultivate around that time, giving him a chance to embark on the path of cultivation. He seized the opportunity to leave Ning’an City and escape the Ning family’s control once and for all.
Compared with that old, festering grievance, what concerned Meng Shu far more was the fact that this mysterious man knew his background in such astonishing detail. The other party had clearly come prepared, yet Meng Shu knew absolutely nothing about him. He couldn’t even think of anyone he had encountered who might fit the description.
After considering the possibilities again and again, he could only connect the matter to his fiancée.
Could this man be one of Ning Yao’s admirers, someone who has come to eliminate me as a romantic rival?
However, if the Ning family truly had such an outstanding prospective son in law, they wouldn’t have kept the matter quiet.
Could he be someone Ning Yao had met recently?
The Feixian Sect, which Ning Yao had joined, was the largest secondary immortal sect under Qingyang Mountain, a first class immortal sect. It was among the very best of the second class immortal sects.
Unlike Meng Shu, his fiancée possessed exceptional talent and beauty. Now that she had entered a much better environment, it wouldn’t be surprising if she had met someone worthy of her.
“If you’ve come because of Ning Yao, there’s no need to go to all this trouble. Once our three year agreement has come to an end, I’ll dissolve the engagement with her regardless of whether I win or lose.”
Meng Shu’s voice was calm and even. Yet every word carried his exhaustion and disgust toward the engagement.
He had no romantic feelings for Ning Yao, nor had he ever opposed the idea of breaking off their engagement. If the Ning family had simply approached the matter with the dignity and sincerity they should have shown, rather than exploiting the fact that he was an orphan with no one to stand up for him, the whole issue would have been settled long ago.
Ning Yao?
Who was Ning Yao?
A question mark slowly appeared above Shi Zhaorong’s head.
However, he had his own way of doing things, and irrelevant information wouldn’t distract him from his purpose.
Seeing that Meng Shu hadn’t denied any of the things he had said, Shi Zhaorong finally got to the point and revealed the reason for his visit.
“I came here specifically to find you. Become my disciple.”
Meng Shu looked at Shi Zhaorong in surprise.
He isn’t here because of Ning Yao? He wants to take me as his disciple? What exactly is he after?
Meng Shu had never considered taking a master.
His parents, who had died when he was very young, had left him a fragmentary silk manuscript. For years, he hadn’t known what purpose it served. Then, about a year ago, a fortunate coincidence had allowed him to break the seal on the manuscript, revealing an ancient clan inheritance that had been lost for countless years.
Although the inheritance was incomplete and damaged, its contents covered an astonishing range of subjects. There were cultivation techniques, secret arts, and all kinds of knowledge about the Great Wilderness.
Over the past year, relying on this inheritance, Meng Shu had managed to put his cultivation on the right track. His plan for the future was to continue traveling throughout the Great Wilderness, cultivating while searching for the remaining fragments of the silk manuscript so that he could restore the inheritance to its complete form.
Taking a master would only interfere with those plans.
Moreover, the young man standing before him didn’t look much older than he was. Meng Shu didn’t believe the other party would have much to teach him.
“I don’t need a master.”
Shi Zhaorong didn’t seem bothered by the refusal. Instead, he casually changed his proposal.
“Then you can call me your adoptive father instead.”
“I don’t need an adoptive father, either.” Meng Shu rejected the offer just as decisively.
If he can’t become my master, he’ll settle for becoming my adoptive father? Did this man come here specifically to take advantage of me?
Shi Zhaorong looked troubled.
“But if you don’t call me Father, it’ll be difficult for me to raise you in a proper and legitimate capacity.”
Raise him?
Meng Shu was utterly bewildered.
What does he mean by raising me?
For a brief moment, even the male lead, who had always prided himself on his composure, experienced a complete system failure in his brain.
The system was even more dumbfounded.
What? What? What?! Why can’t I understand a single word you’re saying? What do you mean by raising the male lead? Explain yourself! What exactly do you mean by raising the male lead?!
Meanwhile, Yinruo and Chenbi had long since grown accustomed to the peculiar workings of Shi Zhaorong’s mind. They were also firmly convinced that their young master could do no wrong. Remaining hidden in the darkness, they watched the scene unfold with affectionate amusement, treating the entire encounter as yet another one of their young master’s little games.
Silence.
An utterly bizarre silence settled over the scene.
The night breeze swept gently past, and the bright moon illuminated the two people and one goose standing in the open. For a moment, the three of them looked almost like three stone statues.
Meng Shu raised a hand and touched his forehead.
It wasn’t hot, but that didn’t rule out the possibility of a low grade fever. Perhaps he hadn’t slept well the previous night, and his mind was no longer functioning properly.
Seeing that the red robed young man neither intended to leave nor seemed interested in attacking him, Meng Shu hesitated before finally asking, “Are you… going to fight me or not?”
Shi Zhaorong couldn’t understand why he would ask such a question.
“I have no reason to fight you.”
Meng Shu nodded. “Then I’m leaving.”
He retrieved his long blade, turned around, and walked away. He even forgot to maintain his usual vigilance, leaving his back completely exposed to Shi Zhaorong.
Shi Zhaorong called after him, “Your herb!”
He still remembered that the male lead had gone through so much trouble that night for the sake of this single piece of “wild grass.”
However, Meng Shu didn’t even turn his head.
“You can have it.”
He couldn’t bring himself to accept the spoils of battle after someone had spared his life. Besides, at that moment, he was far more concerned with getting away as quickly as possible.
What an unlucky day. I’ve run into a lunatic.
Shi Zhaorong stared at the Tempered Jade Flower swaying at the edge of the cliff, feeling completely at a loss.
“He rejected me.”
The young master had never before experienced such a straightforward, decisive rejection that left absolutely no room for negotiation. For the first time, he began to realize that his plan might not be as simple as he had imagined.
The system was speechless.
[Of course he rejected you! You went straight up to him and offered to become his father. Don’t you think that’s a little impolite? Who would willingly accept a father out of nowhere? You’re only two years older than him!]
Are you in such a hurry to become a father while you’re still in the prime of your youth?
The system circled around him, honking loudly in agitation. Shi Zhaorong didn’t get angry. Instead, he calmly explained himself.
“You’re the one who told me to raise him into a loyal dog of a second male lead. He is indeed older than I expected, but I can accept that.”
Being a little older did have its advantages. He would only need to raise him for three to five years before he became a proper adult. That would be quite convenient.
[It’s about cultivating him, not raising him! No, that’s not what I meant by turning him into a loyal dog of a second male lead, ]
The system’s already limited goose brain was now completely tangled in knots.
[Anyway, I’m absolutely certain I never told you to become his father or anything like that!]
Shi Zhaorong didn’t believe he had misunderstood the system’s instructions.
“You told me to become his best friend, his worst enemy, his loyal follower, and his selfless mentor in life. Isn’t that exactly the kind of relationship parents have with their children?”
After all, he was older, so naturally, he would have to be the father.
The system was rendered speechless.
Well… when you put it that way, it does sound somewhat reasonable.
Only now did the realization finally dawn on it.
So the reason our boss was so eager to seek out the male lead was that he thought he could get himself a son for free?
Shi Zhaorong fell into thought.
“You’re right. Becoming someone’s master or adoptive father is a serious matter, and such things should happen gradually. Rather than immediately demanding that he acknowledge me, I should first focus on becoming a proper ‘father’ to him.”
The system wanted to scream.
No… that’s not what I meant!
The important point of its earlier statement had been that his behavior was impolite, not that he shouldn’t go around trying to become the male lead’s father!
Can’t you just give up on becoming the male lead’s dad?
[Why not consider becoming friends or brothers instead?] Surely Shi Zhaorong had seen normal friendships before. [You could use the way your uncle and your master interact with each other as a reference.]
Upon hearing this suggestion, Shi Zhaorong became even more confident.
“I’ve already used their relationship as a reference.”
Gaa?
The system’s shock had yet to wear off for even a moment that night.
So those two powerful figures actually interact like that in private?
Shi Zhaorong slowly explained, “My uncle has repeatedly lamented that he didn’t meet my master seven hundred years earlier. If he had, he could have become my master’s master in a perfectly legitimate manner.”
The system knew there was a risk of getting sidetracked, but it couldn’t resist its curiosity.
[How did your master respond?]
Shi Zhaorong replied, “My master told my uncle to go eat shit.”
[You just used foul language.]
Shi Zhaorong denied the accusation.
“I was merely repeating my master’s reaction and exact words at the time. I wasn’t expressing any insult toward any person or thing myself.”
The system attempted to reason with him.
[Look, your master made his feelings about the matter perfectly clear. If you put yourself in the male lead’s position, he probably won’t be willing to accept it, either.]
Shi Zhaorong disagreed.
“My uncle was told to eat shit because he failed. If I succeed, Meng Shu won’t be able to tell me to eat shit. I can’t allow the regret to continue into my generation.”
Since when was failing to become your friend’s father considered a regret?
Yet the young master didn’t look as though he were joking in the slightest.
The system couldn’t help questioning itself: When I was designing Shi Zhaorong’s character, did I accidentally add a little too much of a scheming streak to his personality?
[No! This definitely won’t work. Stop making your own plans and follow mine instead.]
*
After leaving the cliff, Meng Shu took a long, circuitous route back to his temporary lodging. Only after confirming that nobody was following him did he finally return. When the door bolt slid into place, the familiar surroundings restored his sense of security, making him feel as though things had finally returned to his control.
There was no doubt that Shi Zhaorong had left an exceptionally deep impression on Meng Shu, although it was a rather negative one.
Never in his wildest dreams had Meng Shu imagined that, after leaving the Ning family behind, someone would still be able to identify him at a glance.
Apart from the threat of having his identity exposed, Meng Shu was also worried about the trouble that might follow.
Although he had no idea how his whereabouts had been discovered, if one person had managed to find him, there was always the possibility that a second person could do the same.
This place was no longer safe to stay in for long.
Thinking about the Tempered Jade Flower that had slipped through his fingers, along with his completely empty storage pouch, Meng Shu felt a headache coming on.
In order to deal with those cultivators, he had used up a considerable amount of his combat resources. The substitute paper dolls, in particular, had all been exhausted. At present, aside from the fragmentary silk manuscript, the only things he possessed were a little over a hundred spirit stones looted from the four cultivators and a handful of miscellaneous items.
He began arranging his immediate priorities according to their urgency.
First, he needed to replenish his supply of substitute paper dolls, hidden weapons, and other consumable items used in combat.
Second, he had to find new bone tempering materials before attempting Foundation Establishment. If he couldn’t find any, he would have no choice but to abandon his plan for achieving a perfect Foundation Establishment.
Third, he needed to find a weapon that suited him.
Fourth, he had to search for the remaining chapters of the silk manuscript, unlock the unknown portions of the inheritance, and obtain the next level of the cultivation method.
Every single one of these tasks required spirit stones. The few he currently possessed were barely a drop in the ocean compared with what he needed.
Therefore, the most urgent matter of all was obvious.
He needed money.
After making his plans, Meng Shu gathered his already meager belongings and prepared to leave. Just then, a knock sounded at the door.
“Brother Su, are you there?”
[Author’s Note:]
The young master doesn’t understand the incomprehensible things the system keeps babbling about, but the moment he heard that he could get a son for free, he immediately set off.