Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

As a mentor who had lived two lifetimes, Lin Yu knew better than anyone that the path of cultivation was essentially a single-plank bridge paved with loneliness and bones. Mundane grudges and romantic entanglements were like vines wrapped around the bridge ropes, seeming to offer a little helping warmth but, when facing the wind and thunder of heavenly tribulation, those vines would turn into the deadliest shackles, dragging a person straight into a pit beyond all redemption.

That Su Ming could sever that tangled mess cleanly in his own way, and in the process hone his Dao heart to such a round, unobstructed state, brought Lin Yu more comfort than if Su Ming had learned hundreds of ancient seal characters.

”Since the worldly matters are already settled, seal them completely in the corner of your memory. Unless you meet a heart-demon tribulation, never go digging them up again,” Lin Yu’s gaze was like two sharp blades, piercing Su Ming’s eyes. ”The waters of the cultivation world are far deeper and far murkier than that little puddle in the Great Xing nation.”

Su Ming nodded solemnly. ”Disciple understands. After returning, I consolidated my cultivation to the peak of early Foundation Establishment. Master Xuanheng granted me a pass to the Formation Peak Secret Realm. I plan to enter it and seclude myself for half a year once I breakthrough to mid Foundation Establishment.”

”Half a year...” Lin Yu tapped the stone table silently with an ethereal finger, producing a soundless tapping sensation. ”That schedule is actually reasonable. Whether it was dueling or setting arrays when you went down the mountain, you relied on raw Foundation Establishment spiritual energy to crush things. Your techniques are still too crude. A secret-realm retreat is perfect for settling and refining.”

Su Ming put the mundane matters aside. He straightened his back and took out the roll of Analysis of Ancient Runes from his storage pouch.

”Master, there is one more thing from my trip down the mountain that still lingers on my mind.” Su Ming placed a jade slip flat on the stone table and tapped the tabletop with his knuckles.

Lin Yu’s soul body floated in midair with legs crossed, his hands tucked into his illusory sleeves.

”Speak.” Lin Yu lifted his chin slightly.

”Elder Qingquan once guided me to the ruins of the Great Yan imperial palace, and he mentioned the Lantai Secret Garden there,” Su Ming said at a calm pace.Lin Yu’s soul body leaned forward and he raised an eyebrow.

”The secret realm left behind from the Great Yan dynasty, reputed to contain treasures of the previous court,” Su Ming continued. He recalled the massive gate in the depths of the rift valley.

”Outside the Secret Garden I studied the formation. The prohibitive runes on that ten-zhang stone gate were extraordinarily intricate,” Su Ming looked up at Lin Yu. ”I noticed that the large seal-script characters on the gate looked somewhat familiar.”

Lin Yu relaxed his hands from his sleeves and drifted down to the empty seat across the table.

”Familiar?” Lin Yu placed his fingers on the tabletop, producing a faint tapping sound with his fingertips. ”Draw it for me to see.”

Su Ming nodded. He raised his right hand and pressed his index finger together with his middle finger.

Liquid, ghostly blue water spiritual energy surged through his meridians into his fingertip, condensing into a single droplet suspended in midair.

Su Ming closed his eyes and reconstructed the ancient patterns on the gate in his mind.

After a moment he opened his eyes and his index finger moved slowly through the void. The droplet stretched into an extremely fine water line that held its shape in the air. His initial strokes were heavy, his wrist trembling slightly.

He deliberately suppressed the inherent softness of water spiritual energy, injecting into the water-line the austere, killing intent characteristic of large seal script.

The strokes were archaic and crude, the turns carried the sharpness of battle and armor.

With each stroke that fell, the air in the cave dwelling thickened a little. Sweat beaded on Su Ming’s forehead.

Carving out characters that carried ancient laws consumed divine sense terribly. He painted very slowly.

Half an hour passed, and at last a structurally complex ancient seal character formed in midair.

The water line glowed a dim blue, and every corner of the character carried an air of closure and suppression.

Su Ming withdrew his finger and exhaled, lifting a teacup to moisten his throat.

”This is the character.” Su Ming pointed to the ink-like seal character hovering in the air.

Lin Yu stared at it, his brows knitting tighter.

He drifted half a circle around the stone table, observing the suspended character from different angles.

”Indeed... familiar,” Lin Yu murmured. He extended a jade-like translucent finger and traced the character’s strokes from afar.

”The habits of those beginnings, continuations, and turns are absolutely not the orthodox talisman-crafting methods of the cultivation world,” Lin Yu squinted. ”They look more like... some imperial sealing script used by a mundane emperor’s household, forcibly blended with formation principles.”

He studied it over and over, then closed his eyes and fell into thought.

His long, strong fingers drummed the tabletop unconsciously. Though only a soul body, the motion stirred a breeze that made the debris on the table shift slightly.

Su Ming remained quiet; he did not interrupt his master’s train of thought.

Suddenly Lin Yu’s eyes snapped open and he slapped his own thigh with a crisp smack.

”I remember!” Lin Yu pointed at the seal script. ”The Turtle-Knob Seal!”

Su Ming was slightly stunned.

”The thing you found years ago in that scrap pile at the Hanlin Academy!” Lin Yu’s speech quickened. ”The characters on that seal’s bottom and the seal-script on this gate are of the same lineage!”

A flash of the damp, musty storeroom from five years ago flickered through Su Ming’s mind.

He immediately tore open the storage pouch at his waist and sent his divine sense in to search briskly.

From beneath a heap of discarded formation plates and debris, he found the object.

Su Ming flipped his wrist and a thumb-sized object dropped into his palm.

It was the Turtle-Knob Seal.

A chubby, charming turtle knob was carved on its top. The material was neither metal nor jade, and it felt strangely warm and smooth to the touch.

Su Ming placed it flat on the table with its bottom facing up.

Four complex seal characters were carved into the base.

He shrank the water-line seal character and guided it down so it floated gently beside the small seal.

Master and disciple leaned in together, eyes moving back and forth between the two.

The initial stroke pressure of the water-line character matched the initial stroke pressure of the seal’s characters.

The sharp angles at the turns, the final pauses at the ends of strokes.

They were identical; even the suppressive undertone deliberately hidden deep within the strokes matched perfectly.

Lin Yu straightened, staring at the seal with profound eyes.

”The large seal script on the stone gate should be the prohibitive rune of the Lantai Secret Garden,” Lin Yu’s voice was low. ”The key and the lock share the same stylistic temper—made by the same hand.”

Su Ming rubbed the edge of the seal with his finger. ”This unremarkable little seal is the key to the Secret Garden?”

”Most likely,” Lin Yu nodded and floated back above the meditation cushion.

Su Ming picked up the seal and examined the turtle knob’s texture.

”When the Great Yan dynasty fell, this key must have drifted into the Hanlin Academy’s scrap heap,” Su Ming analyzed. ”By some twist of fate it ended up in my hands.”

Lin Yu snorted coldly. ”The cultivation world doesn’t have that many coincidences. If the Great Yan dynasty forced Cloud Hidden Sect to deploy three Nascent Souls, their foundation was certainly profound.”

He pointed at the seal. ”Try injecting some spiritual energy into it.”