Chapter Fifty-Nine: Grandfather, Save Me

Wang Can struggled to swallow, standing before Feng Chuxun’s cave. Should he go in, or not? This dilemma circled in his mind, knowing he had only one chance. The trouble was, he had no idea which choice was right.

Enter? He had no clue what awaited him inside.

Stay outside? Yet he was desperate to find out how Shen Qingyun was faring.

“Forget it!” Wang Can gritted his teeth, shut his eyes tight, and stepped into Feng Chuxun’s cave. Even after entering, he kept his eyes squeezed shut, fearing that the moment he opened them, a cold, gleaming blade would be the first thing to greet him.

A long moment passed, but the imagined sensation didn’t arrive. Gathering his courage, Wang Can cracked his eyes open a sliver, and finding nothing before him, finally opened them fully in relief.

But when he saw the walls of the cave scored with countless sword marks, Wang Can’s heart gave a violent jolt. He thought, “The sword fanatic’s reputation is well earned.”

Every wall of the cave was covered in sword scars, showing just how deep Feng Chuxun’s obsession ran.

Scanning the room, Wang Can spotted Feng Chuxun seated cross-legged on a meditation mat, his sword half-sheathed and resting across his lap. At once, Wang Can stiffened, and respectfully clasped his hands. “Greetings, Senior Brother Feng!”

At Feng Chuxun’s fingertips, a thread of sword energy coiled, making Wang Can feel the threat in his presence.

“What is it?” Feng Chuxun spoke, eyes closed, his voice devoid of emotion.

Hearing this, Wang Can’s expression soured somewhat. Dangerous as Feng Chuxun seemed, his own grandfather was the steward elder of Bamboo Peak; even Xing Wuqie treated him with courtesy. But Feng Chuxun was far too arrogant.

Yet considering Feng Chuxun’s dual identity, Wang Can had to admit the man had every right to be so.

Wang Can spoke politely, “I heard you were confined in the Hall of Cleansing Heart. Did you happen to see another disciple there?”

He paused, worried Feng Chuxun might not know who he meant, and added, “The disciple’s name is Shen Qingyun, also from Bamboo Peak.”

“I know.” Feng Chuxun’s eyes opened slightly, his gaze briefly flickering before settling again—like the surface of a deep, still pool. “So, why do you ask about him?”

“I want to know how he’s doing,” Wang Can said.

“What is your relationship with him?” Feng Chuxun’s eyelids lowered, as if casually inquiring.

“Uh…” Wang Can was momentarily speechless, then hesitantly continued, “We have a bit of a history.”

Feng Chuxun understood the moment Wang Can spoke. He knew why Wang Can had come to ask about Shen Qingyun. Yet some things would never go as he wished…

Six months—even between man and beast, feelings would develop after half a year. Moreover, Feng Chuxun had always felt gratitude toward Shen Qingyun. Though Shen Qingyun repeatedly refused to take him as a disciple, his actions had been no different from a master’s. Perhaps, in Feng Chuxun’s heart, he had long regarded Shen Qingyun as his benefactor and teacher.

Now, Wang Can admitted to having a grudge against Shen Qingyun. As the younger brother, Feng Chuxun could not let this pass without doing something for his elder.

With a sharp clang, the sword half-sheathed on Feng Chuxun’s lap sprang free. Gripping it, he pointed the tip directly at Wang Can’s nose. “Defeat me, and I’ll tell you.”

Staring at the cold, gleaming blade just two fingers from his nose, Wang Can swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “Senior Brother is joking. I won’t ask, then.”

To challenge the sword fanatic? He’d have to be mad himself.

“If Senior Brother wishes to continue cultivating, I won’t disturb you. Farewell!” Wang Can clasped his hands and turned toward the cave entrance, his heart pounding—this truly was the tiger’s den.

But such a den was not somewhere one could enter or leave at will.

Wang Can wanted to leave, but could it be so easy?

Swish!

Wang Can’s steps halted immediately, his expression frozen as cold sweat dripped from his forehead. Looking down, he saw a sword embedded in the ground, still trembling. It was just two inches from his toes.

Somehow, Feng Chuxun had risen and now stood behind him, speaking carelessly, “Is my place somewhere you can come and go as you please?”

“Senior Brother Feng, we’re both disciples of Bamboo Peak!” Wang Can turned stiffly, hoping to appeal to Feng Chuxun’s reason and emotion.

But this was another mistake. Feng Chuxun was not someone who could be reasoned with.

Feng Chuxun’s voice softened, but the smile at his lips carried a chilling undertone. “For the sake of our shared affiliation, I’ll try to leave your corpse intact.”

Wang Can’s mind raced, searching for a way out. Suddenly, his fear lessened; he remembered his grandfather standing behind him. What if Feng Chuxun dared to act? Even as the disciple of the Law Hall Elder, he was still a member of the Cloud Sect—he would have to face the consequences.

A flurry of thoughts came to him, and with that, his fear ebbed. Wang Can regained his composure, put on a smile, and met Feng Chuxun’s gaze. “Do you dare kill me?”

Feng Chuxun tilted his head slightly and replied, “You think I don’t?”

Even those few words made Wang Can’s heart leap. Madman was not a misnomer. To argue with such a person was nearly madness itself.

Escape—that thought took hold and would not let go. Wang Can spun around and dashed for the cave’s entrance with all his strength.

But the gap in their abilities was not so easily bridged. Even if Feng Chuxun hadn’t cultivated for half a year and was still at the peak of Foundation Establishment, he was far beyond Wang Can’s reach.

Pulling his sword from the ground, Feng Chuxun bounded after him.

“Almost there.”

Seeing the light at the cave’s mouth, hope sparked in Wang Can’s heart. The few steps to the exit felt endless at this moment.

At last, Wang Can leaped out, escaping Feng Chuxun’s cave. He greedily gulped the outside air, feeling as if he’d survived a disaster.

Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine. Turning, Wang Can saw Feng Chuxun closing in, sword in hand. Panic seized him. “Grandfather, save me!”

But Feng Chuxun was already upon him, the sharp blade looming larger in his vision. Wang Can’s pupils contracted as he desperately dodged aside.

The sword missed, its edge striking stone and sending sparks flying. Feng Chuxun paid it no mind, raising his blade to chase Wang Can once more.

“Grandfather!” Wang Can cried out, dodging Feng Chuxun’s sword.

Their commotion was loud, and Wang Can’s repeated cries for his grandfather drew the nearby disciples from their cultivation, curious to see what was happening.

Stepping outside, they saw Feng Chuxun, agile and swift, chasing after Wang Can, whose attempts to evade were clumsy and disorganized by comparison.

“Stop, you brat!” Wang Can’s heartfelt plea finally received an answer, a voice as divine as heaven’s music. His grandfather had finally arrived…