Xiao Xueman understood the look in his eyes. He rubbed his temples, turned around, and sat down on the wooden chair, not quite sure where to begin.

“What do you want to know?” he asked. “Looking at you all ragged like this, I figure you’ve got a whole pile of things you wanna say too, huh?”

Shen Guan opened his mouth, and a flood of questions surged up instantly. He didn’t even know where to start, but what he finally blurted out was, “Let’s put my stuff aside for now. Xiao Xueman, they all said you were dead. I didn’t believe it—I looked for you for a long time but couldn’t find a single clue. If you were still alive, why didn’t you send me any message? I’ve really been worried about you for a long time.”

When Shen Guan said this, he wasn’t blaming him. Meeting again here in the Seventeenth Heaven meant a lot. Even now, he was still worried.

Hundreds of years had passed in a flash, and everything had changed since they last met. But luckily, at least the bond between old friends still remained. Who would’ve thought, after all this time, that Xiao Xueman would save him once again?

“I didn’t die,” Xiao Xueman said. “After things ended with Qin Lou, I went home. My place is too remote to send messages easily, and I thought I wouldn’t come out again anyway. Figured we wouldn’t see each other again, so I didn’t plan to keep in touch with the outside world.”

The moment Shen Guan heard the name Qin Lou, he ground his teeth. “I knew it was that scumbag Qin Lou’s fault!”

“Shen Guan, you really don’t have to fill in the blanks with your imagination,” Xiao Xueman said, totally calm, even smiling a little. “We just weren’t a good match. We went our separate ways once everything was settled. Like I said back then, we both got what we needed. I don’t have any regrets, and he got what he wanted. Never seeing each other again is the best outcome.”

“What really happened?” Shen Guan pressed, “I was in the Second Heaven back then. I didn’t know anything.”

Xiao Xueman didn’t answer directly. He thought about it and didn’t go into too much detail, brushing it off like it wasn’t a big deal. 

“In the final battle, Tianshu Academy sent people to ambush the rear. I went to block them. There were too many of them and I got seriously injured. Then I heard the front line had already won, his great cause fulfilled, and my revenge completed. My deal with Qin Lou was over. I had no reason to stay, so I went home to heal. I left in a rush and didn’t get a chance to send word to the fox clan. Sorry about that.”

Shen Guan waved his hand—there was no need for Xiao Xueman to apologize to him. He lowered his head and thought for a long time before finally asking the most important question: “Then what’s up with Xiao Wan?”

“We’ve been apart for so long, and Xiao Wan’s only four this year. He’s mine alone—has nothing to do with Qin Lou. Not at the beginning, and not in the future either.” At the mention of his son, Xiao Xueman lost his calmness. His expression turned serious. “If I had any other choice, I wouldn’t even have brought Xiao Wan out of the house.”

Shen Guan opened his mouth but couldn’t get the next words out.

Even though he was dying to know what had happened between Xiao Xueman and Qin Lou, it wasn’t something that could be explained in a few words. But he was just glad that, contrary to the rumors, Xiao Xueman hadn’t died and was now standing here in front of him, looking pretty at peace with what happened. His curiosity faded by half. Shen Guan was worried about him, not trying to gossip.

Well… not totally uninterested. But Xiao Xueman clearly didn’t want to talk much about the past—especially not about Qin Lou. That much was obvious. Shen Guan didn’t want to force him to dredge it all up just to satisfy curiosity. That would only burden Xiao Xueman more.

After all, compared to Qin Lou, what’s going on now was way more curious.

Why did Xiao Xueman bring his kid to the Seventeenth Heaven? This place was super uncomfortable for powerful spiritual cultivators. If Shen Guan was here because he had no choice, then what was forcing Xiao Xueman?

Xiao Xueman thought about it for a while, taking time to organize his words.

“Xiao Wan was a surprise to me. After I went home, I went into closed-door cultivation for a long time. I only woke up a few years ago, and when I did… I found out I had a kid. But I wasn’t in good shape,” Xiao Xueman said. 

“The closed-door session did increase my spiritual power, but for some reason, the power inside me was a total mess. Maybe I went off track while cultivating—ended up absorbing all kinds of jumbled spiritual power. It’s like a tangled ball of yarn.”

If it were just him, slowly sorting it out at home wouldn’t be a big deal. But then came Xiao Wan. He was too young and had inherited his spiritual power—too much and too chaotic. A newborn like him couldn’t possibly manage that kind of power. If they didn’t figure something out, his body could literally explode at any moment.

Xiao Wan’s innate power was off the charts. Most kids awakened at age three. He was having spiritual power outbursts the moment he was born. And a newborn was way too fragile. Xiao Xueman didn’t dare try to forcefully help him sort it out. Regulating spiritual power was a delicate and intimate process—no one else could intervene.

To save his son’s life, Xiao Xueman had no choice but to act on his own. He sealed up most of Xiao Wan’s spiritual power just to keep him alive.

But sealing it didn’t mean the problem was solved.

“There’s another tricky issue. Xiao Wan’s not wood-type. Or rather, not just wood-type,” Xiao Xueman said. “He’s dual-type—wood and fire.”

Shen Guan suddenly caught on, stunned by the sheer weight of that revelation.

Fire-type.

Which fire-type? Qin Lou’s fire-type?

Even though they’d been apart for years, spiritual cultivators having kids wasn’t exactly easy—especially not those with strong power. It was less like physical union and more like the fusion of spiritual energy. The stronger the father’s power, the stronger the child’s talent. But it also made the process harder and took longer.

Could he really be Qin Lou’s son?

Putting aside that spicy little nugget of gossip about the kid’s bloodline, Shen Guan stayed sharp.

Dual-type spiritual power was a rare and exceptional gift—rarer even than mutated power. Every known dual-type spiritual cultivator had become a powerhouse. But most dual-types were elementally compatible—like water and ice, or metal and lightning. Those kinds supported each other and could be even stronger together.

“Wood creates fire. So logically, Xiao Wan should be extremely powerful,” Xiao Xueman continued. “But his talents are too special. Not like the usual wood-fire combo. My wood-type power is super exclusive, and that fire-type isn’t exactly peaceful either. He can’t handle the clash between these two overly strong attributes.”

He paused and then said, “Xiao Wan’s case is even more complicated than mine. When I was home, I placed two seals on him—one to suppress his fire-type talent, and one to seal off most of his spiritual power. Just so he wouldn’t die from the internal conflict. But that’s not a permanent fix. The Seventeenth Heaven naturally suppresses spiritual power, so it helps a little for both of us.”

Shen Guan didn’t say anything.

If it was Qin Lou’s fire-type, then yeah, that wasn’t a normal fire. Everyone knew his flame was mutated.

Seals were tricky to begin with. The fact that Xiao Xueman could even do this was impressive. He wanted to protect Xiao Wan, but couldn’t seal too tightly, or else it’d cut off his future path. That kind of balance was insanely difficult. So he needed the external pressure of the Seventeenth Heaven to help out.

“Also, with the power sealed, he doesn’t feel uncomfortable here. The regional suppression doesn’t affect him. So I kind of gamed the rules a bit,” Xiao Xueman said. “When you were hurt, I did the same for you, just a little seal to make you feel better. It’s more like a stealth trick.”

Shen Guan blinked. “The Seventeenth Heaven doesn’t have enough spiritual power—how’d you manage that?”

“That kind doesn’t need spiritual power. Xiao Wan’s is a whole other thing,” Xiao Xueman explained. 

“This one’s simple—just a little technique. Of course, it only works under certain conditions: if someone’s weak, unconscious, or willing. Then it goes smoothly. Once you’ve healed, you can break it with a flick of your hand. It’s useless in a real fight, but it has its niche uses.

If you plan to stay in the Seventeenth Heaven for a while, come see me every week for a refresh, and be a little careful with your spiritual power flow.”

“Damn, that’s impressive,” Shen Guan said, genuinely impressed. “Where’d you learn that trick?”

Xiao Xueman brushed it off. “Just something from my past. Didn’t think it’d come in handy now.”

But this was just a small workaround. It wasn’t a long-term fix. No matter how good a seal is, it can’t hold back talent or growth.

Xiao Xueman had only pushed the problem down—not solved it.

“Xiao Wan’s cultivation power hasn’t disappeared—it’s just been stored. About ninety-eight percent of it’s sealed. And even with just the remaining two or three percent, he advanced from Stage One to Stage Two within a year,” Xiao Xueman said, clearly getting a headache. “But I still haven’t found a solution.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in Xiao Wan. He knew his kid was smart. But learning to carefully sort out spiritual power would still take time. And more importantly, that unique wood-fire combo was a problem with no solution. The stronger Xiao Wan got, the more intense the conflict between the two powers.

“But I can’t stop Xiao Wan from growing. He loves cultivating. And only by getting stronger himself can he possibly find a way out. External help can only go so far. I’m very limited, too.” Xiao Xueman sighed. “This really puts me in a tough spot.”

What could he do? There was no precedent for this. No one could say what the right path was.

Sorting spiritual power wasn’t too bad. Once Xiao Wan grew up a bit, he’d learn how. At his current pace, it wouldn’t take that long. But the dual-type thing… that was the real issue.

Xiao Xueman wanted him to grow—but was also afraid of what that growth could bring.

It was the first time he told someone all of this. That heavy weight pressing on him for years finally eased up a bit. But he still reminded his friend who had just heard this big secret.

“Knowing this is enough. Don’t tell Xiao Wan. First, even if you do, it won’t help—just make him carry a burden for nothing. Second, I’m worried. His talent can’t really be sealed. He’s already sensed it before. If this gets talked about, he might end up touching it during cultivation—maybe even unintentionally—and that could accelerate the awakening. I can’t take that risk.”

Besides, Xiao Wan was too sensible. If he knew something was wrong with himself, he wouldn’t ignore it. What Xiao Xueman feared most was that his kid would try to solve it on his own. He was still so young—if he made even one wrong move, he could die.

“I don’t plan to hide it forever. But Xiao Wan’s only four. Letting him live carefree for a few years can’t be wrong, right?” Xiao Xueman said. “That’s my current problem. What about you, Shen Guan?”

Shen Guan stayed silent for a while. He sympathized with his friend’s situation, but honestly, he had no way to help. He himself wasn’t out of danger yet—he’d just been saved by Xiao Xueman.

“My situation’s not that complicated. A few years ago, I got tired, so I stepped down as patriarch of the fox clan. The new guy was someone I trained myself—seemed fine on the surface, but once he got the title, boom, totally changed. Or maybe just showed his true colors,” Shen Guan summarized simply. 

“Some of his decisions were way off—too aggressive and totally reckless. Yeah, it made us stronger fast, but we made enemies everywhere. It wasn’t sustainable. I argued with him a few times, and he saw me as a threat. Most of the elders had already taken his side, and earlier this month, he found a reason to frame me. I ran from the Second Heaven all the way here, thinking I was gonna die.”

Shen Guan had reached Spirit God Tier 3. Aside from Qin Lou, he was top-tier on the continent. But even someone like him couldn’t fight off a whole group. Escaping from the Second Heaven to here was already amazing.

He left in a hurry, didn’t bring much. The last thing he had was a spiritual medicine that boosted the five senses for a short time—super handy for running away. He could sense everything, even a breeze in the grass.

Just when the medicine was wearing off and he was about to collapse from his injuries, he sensed something strange.

With his senses heightened, the Seventeenth Heaven looked like a gray spiritual desert. But there was one spot of faint green. Like an oasis in the sand—and it felt familiar.

He used the last of his strength and collapsed right there.

Turned out, that was Xiao Xueman’s courtyard.

“The vines and trees in the yard—I planted those. Used a little trick. Xiao Wan likes cultivating there. I just wanted to make it more comfortable for him. Didn’t expect it to attract you,” Xiao Xueman said. “You just focus on healing for now. We’ll talk about the rest later.”

The two adults had a heart-to-heart about their problems, and it made both of them feel a bit lighter.

“Oh right,” Shen Guan remembered something. “Before I fled, there was news from the First Heaven. They said Qin Lou came out of seclusion. Said it was because he found news about the Empress.”

Xiao Xueman gave him a confused look.

“Who’s the Empress?”

Only then did Shen Guan realize—this guy really hadn’t kept up with any of Qin Lou’s news. He didn’t even understand what that meant.

“After you left, he kept looking for you like his life depended on it. Stayed in seclusion on Duanqing Peak, built this huge star chart to search for you, refused to come out,” Shen Guan explained. “Everyone in the First Heaven knows—you, Xiao Xueman, are the Empress of the Wangtian Immortal Sect.”

Xiao Xueman: “……”

He really was confused. He never even married Qin Lou. That Empress title was just… super random.

⸻

Author’s Note:

The gong’s really not that scummy. It’s mostly misunderstandings between them. Still salvageable.

After thinking it over, I tweaked the setup a little. A lot of readers brought it up—just want to make the reading experience better for everyone.