Walker Of The Worlds

Chapter 3356: The Changed Tao Yinsu

Tao Yinsu watched as another bandit leapt from behind, blade drawn.

But then he witnessed Lin Mu’s elbow struck backward, piercing the man’s chest like a spear. No blood touched Lin Mu. It evaporated from the heat of his Searing hot aura before it could stain him.

Three more rushed together and unleashed Qi skills. Lin Mu walked through the explosions, his robes rippling only slightly. He grabbed one by the jaw and ripped it off cleanly. The other fired wildly and was caught by the throat.

Lin Mu squeezed until the neck snapped like dry twigs.

The Patriarch had long since collapsed onto his knees, trembling. Even with his cultivation he could not stand before such fury.

Tao Yinsu stared, his tiny fingers gripping Lin Mu’s robe so hard his knuckles turned white. The child did not blink. His little mouth opened in horror. No curse escaped him.

Bandits fled in every direction. Lin Mu simply blurred, appearing behind each one. Their bodies dropped, crumpled, or pulped without suspense. The entire hideout was cleansed within minutes.

Lin Mu did not summon sword intent. He did not use Dao Skills. He did not draw weapons. He used only his body. Just fists and raw force. As if to show Tao Yinsu the difference between patience and wrath.

When it was over, Lin Mu walked back to the Patriarch who was half scared half awed.

Not a spot of blood stained him. His breathing was even. His expression calm.

He finally looked down at Tao Yinsu.

”If you keep your behavior,” Lin Mu said, voice steady, ”one day this might be your fate. Perhaps not by my hands. But by the hands of the people you would inevitably offend.”

Tao Yinsu’s eyes grew impossibly wide. He shivered. His mouth hung open, but no words came out. The Patriarch, pale as chalk, silently picked himself up.

The baby remained mute for a full week afterward. Not a curse. Not a remark. Nothing.

The stick had worked. Now came the carrot.

Meng Bai, who had absorbed more stories than most scholars, spent several days recounting Lin Mu’s exploits.

He described the battle against the Withering Spirit Daoist. Lin Mu fighting millions of Chimeric Beasts while being in a land of Death qi. His victory over Transcendents. The win against Grand Elder Huo. The miraculous feats in the Path of the Sealed Swords. The Ephemera Tree.

Tao Yinsu listened with rapt attention, wide eyed, as if hearing tales of a myth. Sometimes he interrupted with a question. Sometimes he gasped. Sometimes he tried to imagine the scenes in his head.

By the fourth evening he began addressing Lin Mu with far more care.

By the sixth he called Lin Mu ”honored senior.”

By the tenth he referred to him as ”Master Lin Mu, who walks with the Dao.”

And by the fifteenth, after realizing Lin Mu had saved him from being burned at the stake, drowned in a well, or torn apart by talismans meant to exorcise him, he bowed his little baby head and declared:

”You are my savior. If not for you this great one would have died before he even learned to curse properly.”

Lin Mu flicked his forehead for the last sentence.

But privately he felt warmth.

The baby was changing. Slowly, roughly, but truly.

He was learning fear of consequences, learning awe of strength, learning gratitude, and beginning to develop enough humility to speak without spitting insults with every breath.

The Binggan Clan noticed too.

The tantrums lessened.The curses halved.The arrogance softened.The destructiveness controlled itself.

Tao Yinsu even attempted meditation once. He fell asleep after three breaths, but the attempt alone made the elders cry with relief.

By the end of the fifth month, Tao Yinsu behaved almost like a child blessed by wisdom rather than a demon sent to test patience. He still swore, yes, but in small doses. He still argued, but he listened too. He complained, but he could be reasoned with.

And each time he looked at Lin Mu, his sharp little eyes carried respect.

Lin Mu had become the anchor of his new life.

And Tao Yinsu, reincarnated immortal and professional menace, had finally bowed his head to someone he acknowledged as far above him.

Lin Mu, whether he wanted it or not, now had a temporary disciple who wore diapers.

Six months after Lin Mu first stepped into the Binggan Clan, the day of departure finally arrived.

Those months had reshaped Tao Yinsu from an unhinged, foul mouthed reincarnated immortal into something that at least resembled a functioning child. He now walked on his own two feet with surprising balance for a two year old.

His tiny steps were steady, and his posture was surprisingly proud. He still cursed, yes, but his outbursts had become strangely endearing rather than catastrophic.

Today, however, all dignity fled.

The moment Tao Yinsu realized Lin Mu was preparing to leave, he collapsed into a puddle of tears, snot, and heartbroken wails.

He clung to Lin Mu’s robes like a drowning man clinging to driftwood. His little fingers latched onto the fabric with an iron grip no proper infant should have possessed.

”Take me with you. Please take me as your disciple. I will not even curse for one whole day if you do. I swear it on the heavenly chicken that blessed my birth!”

Lin Mu sighed. There was no anger in his eyes, only patience mixed with gentle resignation.

”No,” Lin Mu said firmly.

Tao Yinsu froze, lower lip quivering. His eyes welled up again like someone turning on a faucet.

Lin Mu held up a hand before the tantrum could erupt.

”I am not taking disciples right now,” he continued. ”And even if I were, it would be dangerous for you. You barely survived before. If you traveled with me you would not even reach your next birthday. The enemies I face are not something a child can endure.”

Tao Yinsu’s mouth stretched into a wail. ”But I am not a child! I am an immortal trapped in a defective infant body!”