Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

In the afternoon, Su Ming made another trip to the Repair Hall.

Wang Defa was leading a group of people in the yard, disassembling a batch of scrapped flying swords sent in from the Outer Sect. When he spotted Su Ming’s purple True Disciple robe, Old Wang’s hammer nearly smashed into his own foot. The whole crowd swarmed around, their eyes blazing with eagerness as if they were staring at a living money god.

”Hall Master... no, True Disciple Su!” Wang Defa’s face was flushed red with excitement. ”Rest assured, everything at the Hall is running smoothly! Last month, we improved the ’assembly line disassembly method,’ and efficiency went up by another twenty percent. I’ve got the ledgers all done—every last coin accounted for. Even if Punishment Peak comes to audit, they won’t find a single flaw.”

Su Ming flipped through the account books and then glanced at the well-organized backyard. Everyone was busy at their own stations, the standardized processes meshing like precise gears in perfect operation.

He realized that he truly was ”redundant” now.

This was the first time since joining Cloud Hidden Sect that he genuinely had nothing to do.

No need to calculate spirit stones. No need to worry about the cracks in his Dao foundation. No need to be on guard against the arrows that could come from the shadows at any moment.

”Days like these feel unsettling,” Su Ming muttered to himself as he walked to the entrance of his cave dwelling, staring out at the sea of clouds.

”You’ve got a dog’s nature,” Lin Yu commented from within the Consciousness Sea. ”That’s the classic mindset of someone born to toil—the moment you have leisure, you think someone’s out to get you.”

Su Ming chuckled and was about to speak when, suddenly, an extremely grating sound of tearing through the air came from afar.It wasn’t the sharp whoosh of flying on a sword, nor the steady hum of an airship—it sounded more like a battered old cart careening madly down a gravel road.

”Clang—*pffft*—”

A formation plate, its edges still spewing black smoke, wobbled out of the clouds, carving a massive ”S” shape in the sky, before coming to a harrowing stop on the platform at Gazing Star Cliff.

Luo Feng hopped off the formation plate, one hand holding a lotus leaf bundle still dripping water, the other clutching a wine jar sealed with unbroken mud.

”Little Junior Brother! Catch!”

Luo Feng tossed the wine jar over, then gave the formation plate a kick, extinguishing the sparks still sputtering from the battered board.

Su Ming caught the wine jar steadily and gave a subtle sniff: ”Drunken Immortal Brew? This jar must cost fifty spirit stones, right?”

”Heh, I’m in a good mood today—no talk of spirit stones!” Luo Feng sat down casually at a stone table by the cliff’s edge, slapping the lotus leaf bundle onto the table. ”Check out what your Senior Brother brought you!”

He unwrapped the lotus leaf, revealing a green spirit fish still flapping about, its scales crystal clear and shimmering faintly with spiritual light.

”Azure Pond Jade Scale Fish?” Su Ming raised an eyebrow. ”This thing only lives in the cold pond behind Spirit Beast Peak, and that’s the private property of Elder Qin—that hot-tempered old friend of Elder Qingquan.”

Luo Feng grinned slyly, winking. ”When a scholar takes something, can it really be called stealing? Elder Qin saw how hard I’ve been working on my formations and ’accidentally’ left it on the shore. I’m just helping him clean up the environment.”

Su Ming shook his head and snapped his fingers.

Several thin blades of water appeared out of thin air, precisely slicing open the fish’s belly, scaling it, and deboning it. The entire sequence flowed like water, wasting not even a wisp of the fish meat’s spiritual energy.

”Damn, Junior Brother, your water control technique is getting freakier and freakier,” Luo Feng exclaimed in admiration.

Su Ming didn’t reply. Instead, he pulled a portable grill set out of his storage pouch—another improved model from the Repair Hall, engraved with a miniature Gathering Fire Formation on the bottom, providing even heat without smoke.

Soon, the aroma of fish mingled with the fragrance of wine, spreading across the cliff top.

Luo Feng took a big gulp of wine, a rosy flush spreading across his cheeks, and his mouth began to run.

”You’ve been in seclusion recovering these past few days—you have no idea how lively it’s been out here.”

Luo Feng tore off a piece of fish and stuffed it into his mouth, speaking indistinctly. ”That Elder Luo from the Transmission Pavilion—his face has been blacker than the bottom of a pot these past few days. I heard an inner disciple wanted to borrow the advanced volume of *An Introduction to the Path of Formations*. All the paperwork was in order, but Elder Luo sat on it for three days, insisting the disciple’s temperament was unstable and unfit for studying profound formations. If you ask me, he’s still holding a grudge over that business with you, and now he’s got a stick up his ass about everyone.”

Su Ming flipped the grilling fish, his expression calm: ”Elder Luo is just following the rules.”

”Rules my ass,” Luo Feng muttered dismissively.

He took another swig of wine, and his eyes suddenly grew a bit bright.

”And then there’s Eldest Senior Sister.”

The moment Ling Shuang was mentioned, Luo Feng’s voice unconsciously dropped a notch, laced with reverence. ”The day before yesterday, she tested her sword at Sword Peak. That Black Gold Trial Stone, said to withstand a full-force strike from a Golden Core cultivator—she sliced it clean in half with just one... *one* sword strike. The cut surface was so smooth even a fly couldn’t get a foothold.”

Su Ming handed the grilled fish to Luo Feng and took a shallow sip from the wine jar.

”Eldest Senior Sister’s sword has grown even sharper.”

”Yeah, sharper, and even more terrifying,” Luo Feng sighed, toying with his cup. ”She said she comprehended that ’cutting away attachments’ on the Northern Frontier battlefield. I just don’t get it—we cultivate immortality to live forever, so why are we all turning into killing gods?”

Su Ming gazed at the faint lights of the peaks flickering in the distant sea of clouds.

”Because we don’t want to die.”

Su Ming’s voice was very light, scattered by the night breeze. ”Eldest Senior Sister doesn’t want to die, so her sword must be sharp. Senior Brother, you don’t want to die either, so even though your formation plate is shabby, the escape runes on it are made from the best materials.”

Luo Feng froze for a moment, then looked down at his own unremarkable battered board and suddenly laughed.

”You little bastard, your eyes are still just as sharp.”

He raised his cup and shook it at Su Ming. ”Come on—to not wanting to die. Cheers.”

”Cheers.”

The crisp clink of glasses rang out in the night.

They drank until the moon hung high in the sky.

The jar of Drunken Immortal Brew that Luo Feng had brought—most of it ended up in his stomach. This genius Senior Brother from Formation Peak had completely lost all dignity by now, hugging the wine jar and humming some nameless little tune as he wobbled back onto his formation plate.

”I’m... I’m off!”

Luo Feng slurred, forming a hand seal. The formation plate shot out a plume of black smoke and, like a drunken duck, carved a heart-stopping arc through the sky toward his cave dwelling halfway up the mountain.

”Little Junior Brother! Next time... next time I’ll take you to steal... I mean *borrow* Elder Qin’s spirit crane eggs!”

His voice faded into the distance, quickly swallowed by the night wind.

Su Ming stood at the edge of the cliff, watching the direction where Luo Feng had disappeared. The smile on his face slowly faded.

He wasn’t drunk.

A single cycle of spiritual energy through his body, and the faint tipsiness was scrubbed away completely.

He cleaned up the mess on the ground, using his spiritual energy to extinguish every last ember, even packing the fish bones into a special trash bag to ensure no trace was left that could be used against him.

After all that was done, he sat back down on the cushion by the cliff.