Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Outside the window, a pale gray light seeped through the inn’s defensive formation, casting its glow upon the window lattice.

Dawn had arrived.

Su Ming rose to his feet. With a wave of his right hand, he dispelled the eight formation flags that surrounded the room.

Stepping out, he found Qingfeng and Mingyue already waiting in the courtyard.

”Su Ming.” Qingfeng approached, his voice laced with anxiety and frustration.

He pinched a low-grade spirit stone that had completely lost its luster.

”I tried absorbing it last night, but it was impossible!” Qingfeng held out the spent stone in his palm. ”The moment the spiritual energy came out, it scattered completely. I didn’t catch even a sliver.”

Mingyue nodded in agreement beside him.

Su Ming glanced at the spent spirit stone.

He pulled a blank jade slip from his sleeve, pressed it to his brow, and etched the simplified miniature Spirit Gathering Array he had deduced the previous night.”I worked out a formation diagram last night,” Su Ming said, handing the jade slip to Qingfeng. ”I’ll teach you how to set it up later. It won’t be efficient, but it’ll keep your true energy from leaking away.”

Just as the two were about to thank him, the wooden door of the main room let out a dull scraping sound.

Master Xuanming emerged from inside.

His gaze lingered for a moment on the jade slip in Qingfeng’s hand.

But Master Xuanming asked no questions about it.

”Catch.”

With a flick of his withered finger, a cyan jade slip arced through the air, flying straight toward Su Ming’s face.

Su Ming raised his hand and caught it cleanly.

”A map of Myriad Manifestations City.” Master Xuanming’s hoarse voice rang out across the courtyard. ”Free activities today. Gather at the teleportation array entrance in the east side of the city by evening.”

He turned and added one more sentence.

”Don’t stir up trouble. But don’t be afraid of it either.”

Without looking back, Master Xuanming strode out through the courtyard gate, his figure quickly swallowed by the flow of people on the street.

---

The main street of Myriad Manifestations City was several times wider than the white jade plaza of the Cloud Hidden Sect.

Morning light, filtered through the city-protecting grand formation high above, fell upon the road paved with blue gleaming stone, casting a soft, hazy glow.

Su Ming walked at the front, with Qingfeng and Mingyue flanking him.

Shadow perched on Su Ming’s shoulder. This time, she didn’t tuck her head into her feathers; instead, she curiously scanned the dazzling array of shop signs all around.

The shops lining the street were on a scale far beyond what the three could have imagined.

To the left stood an elixir shop built entirely from Crimsonflame Wood, its plaque burning with genuine spiritual fire. To the right was a magical implement store constructed from piled Profound Ice, with faint sword qi swirling before its entrance.

Beyond these, there were formation plate shops, spirit beast lodges, and even luxurious restaurants serving meals infused with spiritual energy—everything one could imagine.

”Su Ming, look at that!”

Qingfeng excitedly pointed at a stall.

It was a ground stall selling scattered artifact forging materials, run by a thin, dark-skinned cultivator at the Foundation Establishment initial stage. On the stall lay a broken sword fragment emitting a faint, eerie light.

”I can sense a sliver of Metal-Within-Metal qi in that,” Qingfeng whispered, his feet already unconsciously moving in that direction.

Mingyue grabbed his sleeve and yanked him back, glaring wide-eyed.

”Save it!” she hissed in warning. ”The spirit stones Master gave us probably wouldn’t even buy a decent meal in this place. What would you do with that scrap metal?”

Qingfeng reluctantly pulled his foot back.

Su Ming didn’t join their squabbling.

His gaze drifted past the flashy cultivators and landed on some people dressed in extremely simple clothing.

Those people had no trace of spiritual energy fluctuations.

They were mortals.

In the Northern Frontier, the paths of immortals and mortals were utterly separate. Mortals held a natural reverence for cultivators and would never set foot in a core city teeming with high-level practitioners.

But here on the main street of Myriad Manifestations City, mortals were not few in number.

Some pushed heavy wheelbarrows laden with low-grade spiritual vegetables destined for the grand restaurants. Others crouched at shop doorways, using the most primitive engraving knives to painstakingly polish scraps discarded by magical implement stores. Still more were teenage boys, plastered with fawning smiles, clutching rags as they stood by the roadside, ready at a moment’s notice to wipe mud off any ornate beast-drawn carriage that stopped.

”Find it strange?”

Lin Yu’s voice rang out in Su Ming’s Consciousness Sea.

Su Ming nodded.

”They’re not just surviving—they seem well adapted to this life,” he replied silently.

Lin Yu’s Soul Body floated within the ring, its edges flickering with a faint glow.

”The Central Continent is an inch of land worth an inch of gold. Every single person who gets to live in this city—even a mortal—has their use,” Lin Yu said, his tone unhurried. ”High-level cultivators need time to cultivate. They can’t waste energy on trivial tasks like sweeping courtyards, washing spirit herbs, or feeding low-level spirit beasts. These mortals are the gears that keep this massive city running.”

”If a gear breaks, it gets replaced,” Su Ming said, his eyes growing somber.

”Exactly. As long as you can pay the spirit stones, thousands upon thousands of mortals will claw their way in every day, desperate to squeeze through this city-protecting grand formation.”

As they conversed, the three had already walked for over an hour.

”Su Ming, my feet are killing me,” Mingyue complained, rubbing her calf as she glanced around.

Not far ahead stood a two-story building with a wooden sign hanging above it that read: ”Clear Wind Tea House.” Compared to the opulence of other shops, this tea house looked rather old and worn, though quite a few cultivators were coming and going.

”Let’s rest inside for a bit.”

Su Ming led the two inside.

The tea house was filled with a faint, bitter fragrance of tea. The main hall held over a dozen Eight Immortals tables, most of which were already occupied.

A young attendant came forward to greet them.

Su Ming didn’t request a private booth. Instead, he chose a corner seat by the window.

From this position, he could keep an eye on the street activity, avoid drawing attention, and still catch most of the conversations in the main hall.

Su Ming ordered a pot of spirit tea.

Qingfeng and Mingyue lifted their teacups and took small sips. On the table sat a plate of spirit fruit pastries.

Su Ming didn’t touch his tea.

He tilted his head slightly.

At the neighboring table sat two gray-robed wandering cultivators, both at around the Foundation Establishment mid-stage. Two sheathed long blades rested on their table.

”Have you heard?” one of them, a cultivator with a bushy beard, lowered his voice—but his rough, gravelly tone was still perfectly audible in the not-quite-quiet main hall.

”Heard what?” his companion tossed a peanut-shaped spirit fruit into his mouth.

The bearded cultivator leaned in closer.

”The master of Tianji Pavilion just opened his divination again recently.”