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Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life - Chapter 120: The Humiliation of the Cultivation World

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A sensation of weightlessness instantly enveloped Su Ming’s whole body.

The howling gale tore wildly at his ears.

Sky and earth spun rapidly in his vision.

“Let go! You lunatic!”

Zhao Qianshan struggled frantically in midair, trying to fly, trying to steady himself.

But the moment he gathered spiritual energy, that black-red murderous aura in his chest, like a shark sensing blood, immediately lashed back, causing agonizing pain in his meridians and making his spiritual power collapse at once!

“Disciple! Well done!”

Lin Yu’s voice exploded in Su Ming’s mind!

“Now! Leave it to me!”

In the next instant, Lin Yu’s soul body, which had become utterly transparent, suddenly shot out of the Xuantian ring!

He condensed all the remaining soul force he had into an invisible, razor-sharp cone!

“Old dog! Taste the soul force attack of Grandpa Lin!”

Lin Yu let out a soundless roar, and that cone of soul force stabbed mercilessly into Zhao Qianshan’s Consciousness Sea, which was already in chaos from the invading murderous aura!

“Ah—!”

Zhao Qianshan clutched his head and emitted a dreadful, agonized scream!

His Consciousness Sea felt as if a red-hot iron spike was being twisted violently inside; under such pain his eyes went black and he completely lost control of his body.

Su Ming only sensed that the legs he was holding stopped struggling in an instant.

He could no longer hold on; his vision dimmed and he lost consciousness completely.

Two figures traced a parabolic arc like two stones through the air, finally smashing down into the raging river below the cliff!

“Splash!”

A huge spray burst up, then fell back down.

The cold was bone-piercing, and that instant of frigidness cut through Su Ming’s body, snapping his nearly fainted mind clear for a moment.

The rushing water tore at Su Ming and Zhao Qianshan’s bodies.

He couldn’t let go!

Relying on his last instincts, just before hitting the water, Su Ming flipped his body and used every ounce of strength left to force Zhao Qianshan’s head deeply under the water!

“Gurgle…”

A string of bubbles burst from Zhao Qianshan’s mouth.

He tried to rise to the surface.

But his limbs felt as though filled with lead and refused to obey.

Icy river water poured frantically into his nose and mouth.

The choking, mixed with the excruciating pain from the murderous aura eating his body, made his suffering unbearable.

He widened his eyes and watched the light above grow more distant and blurred.

Fragments of his hundred years of cultivation flashed through his mind.

From an ignorant youth stepping onto the immortal path, enduring hardships, finally reaching Foundation Establishment.

He should have had a brighter future, perhaps even a chance to glimpse that legendary Golden Core path.

But now…

He, a Foundation Grand Perfection cultivator, was about to, like a mortal who could not swim, be alive and truly... drowned here?

How absurd!

How laughable!

Endless regret and unwillingness drowned his last consciousness.

He opened his mouth, intending a final curse, but only a string of murky bubbles slipped out.

This Foundation Grand Perfection cultivator, once a notable figure within Great Xing’s borders, ultimately stopped breathing in extreme pain and bitter resentment.

Su Ming could feel the convulsions of the body in his arms gradually subside.

Darkness began to press in before his eyes.

Master… I think… I’m dying…

Su Ming’s consciousness slowly sank into boundless blackness and cold.

He could no longer hold on; his arms relaxed.

The torrent swept him and the now motionless corpse downstream into the unknown.

.......

Dawn on the riverbank was deathly silent.

Su Ming lay on his back on cold pebbles, his whole body paled from being soaked, the wound on his chest grotesquely gaping. His breathing was extremely faint, almost imperceptible.

Only the Greenwood Longevity Art, acting on instinct, drew in faint life from the riverweed and clung desperately to his collapsing soul.

Not far away, Zhao Qianshan’s corpse lay twisted on the shore, eyes wide, his face frozen in unwillingness.

He died with his eyes open, as if he could not accept that a Foundation Grand Perfection cultivator would drown in such an ignominious way.

Just then, the space beside the riverbank rippled.

Light and shadow warped, and a boy and a girl holding hands popped out with a “pff” sound, stumbling on their feet. They looked about eleven or twelve, wearing fine cyan Daoist robes and carrying small sword cases.

The girl failed to steady herself and sat down on the wet pebbles with a thump. “Ouch!”

The boy hurriedly pulled her up, patted his chest, and with a little-adult air said, “Junior Sister Mingyue, don’t be afraid. The Little Shift Talisman does wobble when it lands.”

Mingyue rubbed her bottom and stood up, worried. “Senior Brother Qingfeng, are we really okay sneaking out using Master’s talisman?”

Qingfeng stuck out his little chin. “Relax! Master is in seclusion. By the time he comes out we’ll be back. We’ll just say we went out to gather morning dew for alchemy.”

He inhaled deeply. “Look, the river water here is so clear! The air smells like fresh earth, much nicer than the mountain!”

Mingyue rushed to the river and dipped her small hand into the icy stream. She shivered but then giggled.

“Ah! Senior Brother, there are people there!” Mingyue pointed at the riverbank, a trace of nervousness in her voice.

Qingfeng looked and saw the two motionless figures as well. He took Mingyue by the hand and led her over. “Don’t be scared, stay behind me.”

He approached Zhao Qianshan’s corpse and probed his neck and chest. “Huh?” Qingfeng frowned.

“What’s wrong, Senior Brother? Is he dead?” Mingyue asked softly.

“Dead, stone dead.” Qingfeng stood up, his little face full of puzzlement. “Weird. Really weird.”

He walked around the body, muttering to himself, “This man is Foundation Grand Perfection; his foundation is solid. There’s residual murderous aura in his body. Maybe he died from a magic treasure’s backlash...” He crouched and pried open Zhao Qianshan’s mouth. “But his lungs are full of water and sand… A Foundation Grand Perfection cultivator drowned?”

Qingfeng found it unbelievable; this manner of death was absurd.

“What a disgrace! A humiliation for the cultivation world!” he shook his head and pronounced his conclusion.

Mingyue’s gaze shifted to Su Ming. She ran to his side and crouched, looking at his pale, delicate face, and reached out as if to check for breath.

When her hand neared Su Ming’s chest, a faint but pure warm current flowed out.

“Ah!” Mingyue cried with delight. “Senior Brother! Come quick! This young man is still alive!”

“Alive?” Qingfeng walked over with a trace of scorn. “A Qi Refining that sustained such injuries—how could he be alive? He’s probably just barely breathing.”

He still crouched and placed his finger on Su Ming’s wrist.

Refined spiritual power probed into Su Ming’s body.

The next moment, Qingfeng’s eyes flew wide. “How is this possible?!”

Seven or eight-tenths of Su Ming’s meridians were severed, and his internal organs were shattered. Any Qi Refining cultivator should be dead.

Yet, stubbornly protecting his heart channel was an extremely pure vegetation life force, like tenacious vines.

This life force was weak but of an extraordinarily high grade, even surpassing the sect elder’s wood-based cultivation method. “Such tenacious vitality!” Qingfeng showed genuine curiosity for the first time.

“Senior Brother, he’s so pitiful.”

Mingyue pleaded, “Let’s save him, please?”

“Save him?” Qingfeng shook his head and returned to his little-adult act. “Don’t be foolish. We snuck out secretly and have only two Ninefold Rebirth Pills on us. Those are for saving our own lives! What if we give them to him?”

“But we can’t just watch someone die.” Mingyue’s eyes reddened. “Master taught us that those who practice medicine have compassion.”

Qingfeng was stumped and argued, “Saving someone could get us into trouble! Let’s go and pretend we didn’t see anything!” He tried to drag Mingyue away.

“I’m not leaving!” Mingyue squatted beside Su Ming and refused to budge. “You can leave if you want! If he dies, I’ll have a heart demon!”

Qingfeng was furious and anxious but helpless with his junior sister. His gaze swept to the Xuantian ring on Su Ming’s finger. The ring was pitch-black and unremarkable, yet Qingfeng’s spiritual sense detected a faint, extremely subtle spatial fluctuation.

A storage magic tool? Or a high-grade item that could conceal its aura?

How could a poor Qi Refining kid possess such a treasure?

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