Ch 69: The Cannon Fodder Won’t Play Along Anymore [QT]

But Yue Fubai guessed the process, not the outcome.

Ying Tianhai and his wife went to the Heaven’s Secrets Pavilion.

It was said that some conflict occurred between the two sides.

The couple left the Heaven’s Secrets Pavilion.

Then, after much effort, Ying Tianhai and his wife found their way here, to Yue Fubai’s residence.

*

Mu Xing looked calmly at the beautiful woman clutching his hand, crying as if pear blossoms fell in the rain.

A quarter of an hour earlier—

Mu Xing had been picking flowers.

The plum blossoms in the courtyard had all bloomed; Mu Xing picked a few with fine shape to have the kitchen make into pastries.

Ying Tianhai suddenly appeared before him with a woman, not alarming anyone in the residence.

Yue Fubai, these days, spent half the day every day healing his injuries, and happened to not be around.

The moment the woman saw Mu Xing, her eyes turned red. She stared at him tearfully.

Mu Xing knew who she was. From dreamlike memories, he had seen this woman before—this body’s mother, Ying Tianhai’s dao-companion, Immortal Lady Lingyue.

Seeing Mu Xing’s calm expression, Ying Tianhai coughed. “Aren’t you going to greet your mother?”

“Mother?” Mu Xing tilted his head, glanced at the woman, then turned and clipped a blooming red plum blossom.

These blossoms looked lovely in pastries, brewed fragrant in tea, and cut to place in a vase were also quite elegant.

He spoke casually: “Don’t joke. Mu Xing is an orphan, with only a master. Where would a mother come from?”

“You—!” Ying Tianhai was about to flare up, but Lingyue tugged him back.

She stepped up to Mu Xing, gazing at him with tender love. “You… your name is Mu Xing, yes? You look so much like me. You’re not an orphan, you’re my child. I…”

As she spoke, she began to cry.

Crying while speaking, she clutched at his sleeve, weeping for a quarter of an hour.

She said that when she had given birth to him, some misunderstanding caused her to lose him.

She said she had missed him all these years.

She said he was no orphan, but the son of Immortal Lord Ying and Immortal Lady Lingyue, of noble birth.

Mu Xing, only because she was pretty, endured listening for a while.

But when she still wouldn’t stop, he pulled back his sleeve and retreated two steps, widening the distance.

Lingyue froze. She looked up.

The calm and indifference on the child’s face pierced her heart completely.

“I… I know, you resent me and your father. But… can you give us a chance to make it up to you?” Her words were earnest.

Mu Xing shook his head. “You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

Lingyue quickly said, “We wouldn’t mistake you. Your father and I confirmed your identity before coming here.”

“Oh?” Mu Xing clipped another blossom, asking casually, “And how did you confirm it?”

He asked without intent, but the listeners froze.

How did they confirm it?

Back then, she had dug out her own son’s spiritual root with her own hands. Now that spiritual root rested intact in another child’s body.

With just a certain method, she could determine the true owner of that root.

But how could she speak such words aloud?

When she fell silent, Mu Xing didn’t care. Weighing the blossoms in his arms, feeling he had enough, he ignored them and walked back toward the house.

As he went, he remembered something and added: “Either leave quickly, or if you want to come in, go out and make a proper visit first. To barge into someone’s residence like this is extremely rude.”

Lingyue and Ying Tianhai stood there, watching his retreating figure.

He truly treated the two of them like air, never once turning his head as he entered the house.

Lingyue suddenly felt overwhelming panic.

“Brother Hai…” She looked helplessly at her partner. “This child…”

Before coming, she had thought of many possibilities.

The best would be if the child longed for his parents, excited to acknowledge them, and all would rejoice.

The worst would be if Mu Xing hated them, regarding them as enemies.

But what stood before her was a child who treated them politely yet distantly, like strangers on the street.

Worst of all—his polite distance wasn’t an act.

He truly didn’t regard them as anything, didn’t see “parents” as anything at all.

She sought strength from her husband, but Ying Tianhai, looking at Mu Xing’s back, actually showed a trace of admiration: “A firm Dao-heart, unmoved by external things. Worthy of being my son.”

“Who’s your son, Ying Tianhai? Who let you come fart in my residence?” A lazy voice sounded from outside.

Mu Xing, having just arranged a few plum branches in a vase, heard the commotion and came out of the house.

“Master!” he called out joyfully. “You’re back!”

Yue Fubai strolled leisurely in from outside.

Mu Xing came from the house to meet him. In the courtyard, as soon as they drew near, his smile faded halfway after catching a scent at his nose.

Yue Fubai instantly sensed something was wrong and tried to leave, but it was already too late.

“You’ve been drinking again?” Mu Xing stared at him. “And immortal wine, no less. Master, do you not want to recover?”

Yue Fubai gave a dry laugh. “Just one sip, only one.”

His little disciple didn’t scold, only fixed him with those clear eyes in silence.

Yue Fubai soon lost the battle, admitting, “Fine, not just one sip. I drank a small jug.”

He muttered, feeling wronged, “I’m a Demon Lord! This bit of wine won’t affect my injuries. Little Xingxing, just from my name you should know—how could life be without wine?”

Mu Xing turned and left.

He seemed a little angry.

Yue Fubai’s expression changed instantly. He hurried after him, saying as he went: “Alright, alright, I won’t drink anymore. Not until I’m fully healed, I won’t touch a drop, okay…”

Ying Tianhai and Lingyue stood in the courtyard, silently watching the intimacy between master and disciple.

The two of them were treated like air, not even spared a glance.

Lingyue’s tears fell at once.

She suddenly understood what Mu Xing had meant earlier when he said, “I have no parents, only my master.”

Even so, she still followed alongside Ying Tianhai as they went into the house with the master and disciple.

Yue Fubai sat in a chair, and Mu Xing carried up two cups of tea.

One for Yue Fubai, one for himself.

Seeing the couple come in, Yue Fubai paused for a moment, then looked at them.

With a smile in his eyes, he raised his teacup and deliberately took a sip in front of Ying Tianhai and Lingyue, praising, “Not bad. Little Xingxing, you’re becoming more and more skilled in the way of tea.”

Then he called out loudly: “Guests have come. Yin Lin, serve them tea.”

The tea my disciple brewed? Not for you. Heh.

Ying Tianhai and Lingyue: “…”

Ying Tianhai, however, wasn’t one to fuss over such trifles.

He went straight to the point: “Yue Fubai, Mu Xing is my son.”

Mu Xing quietly sat to the side like a tool, just as his master had whispered to him—sit still and listen, he would handle everything.

Yue Fubai blew at the tea foam, speaking lazily: “Oh? Is that so? And how do you know?”

Ying Tianhai said gravely: “I have my own method of confirmation.”

Yue Fubai let out a mocking laugh. “What method? Confirmed that when I picked up my Little Xingxing in the mortal world he was a beggar without a spiritual root? Or did you use…”

He lifted his gaze, eyes filled with cold mockery as he stared directly at the couple: “Or did you use the spiritual root in your younger son’s body—the one that never belonged to him—to confirm it?”

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