Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life-Chapter 121: The Elixir Dissolved on the Tongue

Qingfeng’s gaze fixed on Su Ming’s plain, unremarkable finger.

The ring was jet black all over, without any markings; if tossed by the roadside it would be mistaken for an ordinary lump of iron.

But just now, when his spiritual awareness had skimmed over it, he had sensed an extremely subtle fluctuation.

“This is definitely not an ordinary storage ring!”

A wandering cultivator at the Qi Refining stage, wearing a high-tier storage magic artifact on his finger?

“Senior Brother! Senior Brother! What are you spacing out for?” Mingyue’s anxious voice snapped him out of his shock.

She squatted beside Su Ming, her small hand hovering above his nose, feeling that faint, nearly interrupted breath; her eyes were rimmed with red from worry.

“His qi is getting weaker and weaker. If we don’t save him now, he’ll die!”

“Save him?” Qingfeng came back to his senses, brow knotting into a frown, his gaze leaving the ring and falling on Su Ming’s pale face.

“Mingyue, wake up! We sneaked out! The life-saving elixirs Master gave us are only a few pills. If you give one to him, what if we encounter danger?”

He pointed at Zhao Qianshan’s corpse and lowered his voice, “Dying alongside a Foundation Grand Perfection cultivator—this kid is trouble itself! Get involved with him and nothing good will come of it!”

“But… but Master said if you see someone dying and don’t save them, your Dao heart won’t be at peace.” Mingyue’s voice wavered with tears as she stared stubbornly at Qingfeng.

“Ugh, you…” Qingfeng was rendered speechless.

He dreaded this look from his junior sister; whenever she put on that tearful expression, his own principles felt like they were crumbling inch by inch.

“No way! Absolutely not!” Qingfeng steeled himself, grabbed Mingyue’s wrist and tried to drag her away.

“Saving a troublemaker is just endangering ourselves! Let’s go and pretend we were never here!”

“I won’t go!” Mingyue yanked her wrist free with a snap.

She crouched back down beside Su Ming like a little beast protecting its cub.

“If you want to leave, go! If he dies, I will be haunted by a heart demon forever and my cultivation will never advance!”

Seeing Qingfeng still unmoved, Mingyue’s eyes darted and she pulled out her trump card.

She puffed up her small chest, cleared her throat, and in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft said, “Senior Brother Qingfeng, if you let him die, when I go back I’ll have to talk with Master about why one of the ‘Little Shift Talismans’ he made is missing.”

Qingfeng’s face fell instantly.

Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, his fur bristled all over, and he hurriedly lunged to cover Mingyue’s mouth.

“Sister! Keep your voice down!” He glanced around guiltily, fearing a senior from the sect might suddenly appear on the mountain.

“You’re ruthless!” Qingfeng released her with gritted teeth, his face full of pain and helplessness.

“Fine! I’ll save him, is that enough?”

He glared fiercely at the unconscious Su Ming, as if the elixir inside his pocket were being torn from his own flesh.

“But I’m putting my conditions up front!” Qingfeng held up a finger and proposed them with a stern face, “We can save him, but once he wakes, he must answer for the origin of that ring and exactly who he is. I will interrogate him to get it all out of him!”

“Okay!” Mingyue instantly wiped her tears into a smile and nodded eagerly.

Seeing her brilliant smile, Qingfeng’s last bit of resistance evaporated; only resigned sighs remained.

He carefully took a small white jade bottle from his bosom.

The instant the stopper came off, an invigorating aroma of herbs, full of life, spread across the riverbank.

Qingfeng’s expression read like the words “my heart is bleeding.”

He poured out a pill that was entirely jade-green, radiating medicinal luster—the Cloud Hidden Sect’s secret healing elixir: the Hundred-Herb Revival Pill.

Though not the sect’s top-tier elixir, it was concocted from hundreds of rare spirit herbs and for cultivators below the Foundation Establishment stage, as long as there was still one breath left, it could pull a person back from Death’s Gate.

Mingyue blinked her big eyes and asked puzzled, “Senior Brother, didn’t you say earlier we only had two Nine-Turn Soul-Returning Pills?”

A flash of embarrassment crossed Qingfeng’s face; he forced calm and hummed, “Silly junior sister, when you’re out and about, who doesn’t hide a few prized things? This Hundred-Herb Revival Pill was something I barely won from Pill Refiner Senior Brother Wang! I originally intended to… to trade it for that flying sword I liked!”

As he spoke he winced, looking at the unconscious Su Ming and muttering under his breath, “This is a huge loss…”

“You got off easy!” Qingfeng grumbled, pried open Su Ming’s mouth, and shoved the priceless pill in.

The elixir dissolved the moment it hit his tongue, transforming into a surging, warm, nourishing current that flooded Su Ming’s limbs and bones.

Like long-awaited rain after drought, the current flowed through his body, rapidly replenishing and repairing the meridians that had been withering from grievous injury.

The gruesome wound on his chest stopped bleeding at a visibly noticeable pace, and the paper-white face slowly regained a trace of color.

What had been a nearly extinguished breath settled into a steady, prolonged rhythm.

“All right, life is saved.” Qingfeng checked Su Ming’s pulse and relaxed, then winced in sympathy.

“One of these pills is worth a top-quality flying sword…”

Mingyue looked at Su Ming’s steadier breathing and laughed happily, sincerely praising, “Senior Brother, you’re so kind!”

Qingfeng snorted and turned his head, his cheeks faintly red.

He stood and turned his gaze toward the other “trophy” — Zhao Qianshan’s body.

At once, the boyish helplessness and softness on his face vanished, replaced by a practiced coldness.

He walked over to Zhao Qianshan’s corpse with familiarity, not shying away as he searched the body and quickly found a gray storage pouch.

He weighed the pouch in his hand, nodded with satisfaction, and casually stuffed it into his own bosom.

Having finished, he straightened and quickly formed several strange hand seals.

“Transform!”

He shouted and pointed at Zhao Qianshan’s corpse.

A pale green light like rippling water enveloped the corpse.

“Sizzle…”

A teeth-gnawing corrosive sound rang out.

The corpse of the Foundation Grand Perfection cultivator melted and decomposed in the green light like snow under fierce sun, quickly dissolving until it became a pool of crystal-clear water that seeped into the crevices between the river pebbles, leaving no trace.

The whole process was smooth, efficient, and utterly clean.

That practiced, ruthless way of handling the aftermath contrasted sharply with his still-not-fully-mature face.

Mingyue seemed used to it already; she turned her head away, unable to watch the corpse dissolve.

“All done, everything’s cleaned up.” Qingfeng clapped his hands as if it had been nothing.

He returned to Su Ming’s side, examined the still-unconscious youth, stroked his chin and began to analyze.

“Sister, this man carries too many mysteries; his origins are unclear. If we leave him here, his injuries mend and his enemies find him, it’s a death trap.”

“Then what do we do?” Mingyue asked anxiously.

A glint flashed in Qingfeng’s eyes as his little mental abacus started clicking.

“So we can’t leave him. We’ll take him back to the sect!”

“Huh? Take him back?” Mingyue was surprised.

“Yes!” Qingfeng slapped his hands and the idea seemed more and more brilliant to him.

“Think about it: we hand him over to the Hall of Meritorious Deeds and say we rescued a wandering cultivator from being chased by evil cultivators during practice below the mountain. That way, we save his life and we score merit!”

He leaned close to Mingyue’s ear and whispered, “Maybe this merit will offset the punishment for using the Little Shift Talisman to sneak out!”

Mingyue’s eyes lit up instantly.

“That’s right! Then Master won’t punish us!” She clapped happily. “Senior Brother, you’re so clever!”

“Of course!” Qingfeng smugly lifted his chin.

With agreement reached, Qingfeng stepped forward and effortlessly slung the unconscious Su Ming onto his back, heading toward the treeline by the river.