Immortal Paladin

I sat there for a long moment,  trying very hard not to sigh into it.

How would this circus help me resurrect my disciples?

But then I thought about it again, carefully. If this grandmother really had been Xin Yune’s master… the latter being Divine Physician herself, one of the legendary figures of healing… then there was no way this grandmother didn’t know something useful. Something crucial. Maybe a forbidden art. Maybe a clue to a method I hadn’t even dared to dream of.

‘Get yourself together, David,’ I told myself firmly. ‘Don’t fumble this.’

I stood up from my seat, straightening my robes, doing my best to look composed and respectful. I offered a crisp martial artist’s bow, hands clasped, back straight.

With my best imitation of the polite scholarly voice, I said, “The name is Mei Wei. Greetings to you, honorable grandmother.”

The reaction was immediate.

The old woman’s face twisted into a scandalized look, like I had just proposed to her in public. Tian Mei’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of crimson, almost the color of a ripened fruit.

I froze slightly, wondering if I had just committed some unspeakable sin.

What? I thought desperately. Was calling someone ’grandmother’ wrong? Was I supposed to flirt instead? Bow and call her ’senior fairy’ like those groveling young masters? I’m not that dense, right?

The old woman pinched the bridge of her nose with a long-suffering sigh.

”You…” she said slowly, ”have a great deal of polishing to do when it comes to etiquette and manners.”

I winced slightly but bowed my head in acknowledgment. I wasn’t about to start arguing with her. Not now.

She continued, her voice cool and final, ”You shall never marry my granddaughter!”

No shit, I thought dryly, doing my best to keep my face straight.

Out loud, I simply nodded and said, “Thank you.”

Tian Mei, who had clearly been preparing to launch into some impassioned protest, blinked when she heard my response. Her mouth opened, then closed. She looked like someone had just pulled the rug out from under her entire argument.

A flicker of hurt flashed across her face, and for a moment, I felt a pang of guilt. She was just a kid, trying to find a place in a world that worshipped genius and power.

The old woman’s sharp gaze pinned me again. ”So,” she asked, her voice deceptively casual, ”is my granddaughter not good enough for you?”

I stared at her, confused.

“Huh? What?”

In my heart, I muttered, Come on, old woman. Don’t be overbearing. I’m trying to be nice here.

I held my tongue, refusing to answer harshly. Instead, I lowered my gaze slightly and spoke with quiet sincerity.

”It’s not that she is lacking,” I said. ”It’s that I am inadequate. I have many flaws… flaws that I cannot in good conscience burden someone else with.”

It wasn’t even a lie. Somewhere between the gamer’s greed, the burden of Paladinhood, and the unstable fusion of Paladin powers and Earth-born mentality… yeah, I wasn’t exactly a prize. Not the kind of man a young girl deserved to idealize.

The old woman’s expression shifted slightly. Something softened in her gaze, just for a moment.

Tian Mei looked utterly bewildered.

I straightened my back and continued calmly. ”A broken man cannot promise happiness. He can only promise regret.”

There was a long silence.

The grandmother faked a cough.

Tian Mei murmured under her breath, almost too softly to catch, “But we’re just the same age...”

The old woman gave a slight sigh, as though she had enough. “Let’s go,” she said, her tone firm but not unkind. “There are people to meet and alliances to forge, little Mei.”

“I don’t want to go,” Tian Mei pouted, refusing to move.

“We need to go,” the grandmother repeated with more weight.

“I don’t want to go!” Tian Mei’s voice rose higher, brimming with frustration. “Why do I have to go?”

The grandmother’s eyes softened slightly, but her words remained unmoved. “It is for your future. Young Master Shu Dai is an honorable young man with good character.”

The little girl bit her lip and mummed herself into silence. The resistance in her body was clear though; she didn’t budge from where she sat, clinging to the space as if it were a battlefield.

“You will have a future with him,” the grandmother added, her voice heavy with finality.

“I don’t want to go! They will make fun of me,” Tian Mei insisted, her small hands curling into trembling fists.

The old woman shook her head, her patience thinning. “And Young Master Shu Dai will protect you.”

“But... he’s nerdy!” Tian Mei cried, her voice cracking slightly at the end.

I almost choked on nothing, trying to hide a cough. Shu Dai? I thought. That was literally the character for ‘nerdy’ or ‘studious.’Right? There was no way someone would actually name their kid that, right? Well, maybe different characters were used, but still... it was a bit too on the nose.

The grandmother’s face hardened. She took a step forward, her voice cutting sharply through the room. “You will go because I said so. The arranged marriage has been decided, and you can only have a future with him!”

Ah, so that was the case. It clicked into place in my head.

Tian Mei wasn’t just here because she thought I was handsome or powerful or any of the usual reasons girls clung to stronger cultivators. She was desperate. She was clawing for any excuse to break free from a future she didn’t want… a marriage arranged for political alliance or family stability.

My hand hovered over my teacup, and for a long second, I didn’t move.

I couldn’t fix this for her. That wasn’t my role.

But still… I felt something stir in me… a painful familiarity. A past self, standing trapped by expectations, cornered by choices made by others. Maybe that was why I didn’t kick them out yet. Maybe that was why I kept listening.

I sighed inwardly.

This world really loved dragging me into problems that weren’t mine, huh?

I returned to my seat and my tea.

The grandmother heaved a tired sigh, clearly fed up with the little tug-of-war. ”There are only three days left before the Summit begins,” she muttered, half to herself and half to Tian Mei, ”and yet you have not even met your fiancé.”

I sat there, feeling increasingly out of place as the old woman tightened her grip on Tian Mei’s wrist. Her voice turned polite again, or at least, the kind of polite where you could hear the hidden blade behind every word as she turned toward me.

”We’ve stolen enough of Young Master Wei’s time,” she said with a curt nod. ”Although it is a curious thing, Young Master… why are you holed up in your quarters when all the other young masters from the various factions have gathered to socialize?”

Tian Mei, desperate, grabbed the seat with both hands. She braced herself, but her grandmother simply yanked her up with strength that belied her appearance, pulling her away with surprising force.

I stayed seated, watching the scene play out with a sinking feeling in my gut. Nongmin told me, didn’t he? ”Just be yourself.” No matter what decision I made, it would still be me being me.

However, he had also said I needed to stay in my quarters. I had my orders. I wasn’t supposed to mingle with the other heirs and young talents. Which meant...

I activated Voice Chat, tuning my mind to Tian Mei’s frequency.”If you want to hide here,” I told her quietly, the words transmitting directly into her head, ”I don’t mind. You can even bring Shu Dai with you.”

Tian Mei blinked, startled by the sudden voice in her head.

”It’s fine,” I continued before she could panic. ”No one should complain if the two of you are hanging around with the Young Master of the Grand Ascension Empire. It’ll even look better for you.”

I didn’t say it out loud, but maybe she’d have a little more space to make her own choice if she had a safe place to retreat to.

Finally, the two of them left. The grandmother’s shoes clicked sharply against the floor as she dragged Tian Mei along, and after a few more rounds of weak protests, the door finally clicked shut behind them.

The room returned to silence.

I leaned back in my seat and stared up at the ceiling. No closer to resurrecting my disciples. No closer to the real answers I sought.

Another problem dropped on my lap… not mine to solve, not really, but it was starting to weigh on me anyway. I closed my eyes for a moment and let the tension roll off me. There were three days left until the Summit. Three days to stay out of trouble. Three days to figure out a plan.

I had to trust that somewhere along the way, an opportunity would present itself. It had to.

It was late into the night when Tian Mei returned, dragging along a boy who looked like he had no idea why he was here. He had a frail frame, wore a pair of oversized glasses, and carried a nervous smile that twitched every few seconds. Still, despite his meek appearance, I noticed immediately that Shu Dai, as Tian Mei introduced him, was already at the third stage of Martial Tempering. Impressive for his age, honestly.

The two of them didn’t seem to like each other very much. Tian Mei didn’t even try to hide it, scowling at him whenever he got too close. Meanwhile, Shu Dai would glance at her warily, as if she might hit him if he said the wrong thing. I decided not to comment. It wasn’t my job to mediate their arranged marriage drama.

I welcomed them in with a light wave. ”Come in, come in,” I said. ”Make yourselves at home.”

We started with some simple games… card tricks, word games, things that didn’t need much setup. Tian Mei and Shu Dai kept their distance, but after a while, the awkward atmosphere began to loosen up. Maybe it was my stunning charisma. Or maybe they were just bored out of their minds. Either way, it was a win.

After a few rounds of games, I decided to bring out my painting tools. I set up a canvas and began working on a simple landscape. It didn’t take long for Shu Dai’s curiosity to kick in. He edged closer, pushing his glasses up his nose.

”Young Master Wei,” he asked, voice cracking a little, ”how do you make the clouds look like they’re moving?”

”Trick of layering,” I said, smiling. ”And practice. Lots of practice.”

From there, he peppered me with questions… not just about painting, but about the stars. It turned out Shu Dai was a bit of a scholar. Yeah, as if it wasn’t obvious enough…Shu Dai was surprisingly talkative when it came to astronomy, going on and on about how the arrangement of stars resembled ancient formation patterns, their alignments affecting the flow of energy across the land. He spoke with such enthusiasm that I could see the faint glimmer of ambition hidden behind his timid demeanor.

Tian Mei, on the other hand, was not pleased. Every time Shu Dai grabbed my attention, she would huff and glare at him like he had just insulted her ancestors. It was almost funny. To keep the peace, I had to occasionally throw in some Earth trivia… like how tomatoes were once called ”poison apples” …to steer their attention back to something lighthearted.

They loved it. Shu Dai’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, and even Tian Mei managed a few genuine laughs.

The grandmother never came looking for them. Maybe she trusted that Shu Dai would keep Tian Mei in line. Or maybe she thought I wasn’t enough of a threat. Either way, I was grateful for the reprieve.

As nightfall properly settled, I brought out my food stash… a colorful assortment of snacks and preserved meals from the Empire’s markets. We sat around a low table, sharing stories. I told them about a ”mythical land” called Earth, disguising my real memories as tall tales. They responded with wide eyes and endless questions, interrupting each other like hyperactive puppies.

After dinner, we played a few more board games I cobbled together… simple ones about matching patterns or building imaginary kingdoms. It wasn’t anything sophisticated, but they loved it. Kids were kids, no matter the world.

Eventually, exhaustion got the better of them. Tian Mei was the first to doze off, her head bumping against Shu Dai’s shoulder. Shu Dai stiffened like he’d been struck by lightning, unsure if he should move or not. I chuckled quietly and threw a blanket over both of them.

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

I hadn’t made any progress toward resurrecting my disciples. No miraculous breakthroughs, no secret techniques discovered. But somehow... tonight didn’t feel wasted. Maybe, in a world teetering between politics and chaos, it was enough that I could still act like a teacher, even for just a night.

It was subtle, but I noticed it… the familiar qi signatures stirring in the distance. Tao Long and Liang Na.

At some point, Tao Long had vanished without even a whisper, but now, it seemed he had returned. I wondered what kind of trouble he stumbled too as to why a simple check with the inn’s staff would cause him to be gone for so long. Knowing the place, it was either a diplomatic mishap, a secret assignment, or something completely insane. Probably the third.

I activated Voice Chat, my mind brushing lightly across the link I had with them. ”Meet me in the Emperor’s quarters,” I said. ”Like… right now, if you don’t mind.”

I made my way there first. When I arrived and pushed the grand door open, the scene that greeted me almost made me step right back out.

Nongmin was half-dressed, struggling into what looked like a heavy set of armor while Zai Aifussed over him with a stormy expression.

”Hold still,” Zai Ai snapped, tightening a strap across Nongmin’s chest with a brutal tug. ”For someone with imperial bearing, your manners are garbage when it comes to letting people help you.”

Nongmin grunted, raising his arms awkwardly as she adjusted a cape over one shoulder. ”You’re the best master craftsman I know.”

”Craftswoman,” Zai Ai corrected immediately, shooting him a look that could melt iron.

I leaned against the doorframe and watched as they finished the work. It wasn’t some ceremonial outfit; it was real armor… a hybrid design of gleaming plate for the vital zones, flexible leather along the joints, all bound together with the subtle artistry only a master smith could achieve. There was a cape too, of course. Nongmin wouldn’t be Nongmin without a little theatrical flair.

Nongmin caught sight of me and gestured for Zai Ai to leave. ”I need a moment alone with my grandson.”

Zai Ai didn’t move at once. Instead, she turned toward me fully, her qi pressing down like a heavy storm cloud. Her sense submerged me in a single, terrifying moment… the overwhelming authority of a Tenth Realm cultivator flexing just enough to make her point.

I didn’t flinch. Maybe I should have, but I didn’t.

Finally, Zai Ai huffed, muttering something about “stubborn children,” and swept out of the room. The door shut with a sharp click.

We stood there for a while, just staring at each other. Nongmin, in his freshly equipped armor, arms crossed over his chest. Me, arms loose at my sides, waiting for him to say something first. Neither of us spoke. Five minutes passed, maybe more. It wasn’t exactly awkward, but it was close.

Then, finally, movement… Tao Long stepped through the main door, his expression strained but composed. At the same time, a gust of air from the window heralded Liang Na’s arrival, light as a cat, landing with the faintest whisper of sound.

I raised an eyebrow at the pair of them.

”So,” I said, shoving my hands into my pockets. ”Anyone gonna break me to speed?”