Chapter 11: Adaptability  

At the top deck of the tower ship stood two Spirit Mustard Pavilions brimming with dense spiritual energy, adorned with exquisite carvings and elegant furnishings.  

As Su Han Sheng stepped into the Spirit Mustard space, his feet—previously unsteady from the high altitude—finally found solid ground.  

Spirit Mustards across the Three Realms were monopolized by the “Separate Year by Year” market, priceless treasures that couldn’t be bought even with mountains of gold. Storage Rings were also exorbitantly expensive—evidently, the First Academy truly had deep pockets.  

Su Han Sheng looked around with wide-eyed curiosity.  

Chong Jue stood beneath the corridor, his lotus-patterned robe fluttering like an Immortal’s. After a long silence, he finally raised a hand slightly and sent the Warding Bell floating back toward Su Han Sheng.  

…Go play.  

Su Han Sheng: “…”  

He shot Chong Jue a resentful look.  

Chong Jue flicked a gust of wind at the jade bell, but the Warding Bell merely swayed left and right a few times without making a single sound.  

“No need to worry. The jade bell lacks a clapper—it won’t ring again.”  

Su Han Sheng: “?”  

Was that the issue?!  

Suspecting the man was deliberately dodging accountability, Su Han Sheng mustered his courage to glare at him. But as his gaze swept past Chong Jue’s pristine neck, he suddenly froze.  

Beneath the snow-white kasaya of the World Honored One of Mount Sumeru—a transcendent being who had cultivated a Buddha’s heart—there was a faint red mark on his neck?  

Su Han Sheng nearly laughed himself silly.  

Ha! So much for the World Honored One of Mount Sumeru—still fooling around at night, getting marked up by some vixen—  

Before he could finish the thought, a hazy memory exploded in his mind, accompanied by a familiar, indistinct voice.  

“Don’t be afraid.”  

“Your eyes… can you see now?”  

“Hmm?”  

…It seemed to be a memory from the night the “Body-snatching ghost” had awakened. The images in his mind gradually sharpened, freezing on two figures pressed close together.  

Su Han Sheng’s smile froze as well.  

He remembered.  

He had been the one who bit Chong Jue.  

The blood of the Phoenix Bone burned like embers, leaving a scorch-like red mark on Chong Jue’s snow-white neck—one that wouldn’t fade easily. The collar of his robe barely concealed half of it.  

Despite the mark’s suggestive appearance, no one would dare associate it with anything vulgar when it came to him.  

Su Han Sheng: “…”  

Instantly deflated, Su Han Sheng averted his gaze as if burned. He snatched the jade bell into his palm and muttered stiffly, “Thank you, Uncle. I’ll go find Senior Brother Zhuang now—I won’t disturb you further.”  

With that, he gave a hurried bow, located the wooden stairs leading below, and clattered down in a rush.  

Chong Jue remained on the corridor, watching the young man’s near-panicked retreat. He turned slightly to gaze downward.  

The tower ship’s layered decks resembled terraced fields, and from the top, one could see countless pavilions below.  

The not-yet-of-age youth, umbrella in hand, dashed like a startled hare toward a rockery below. He patted his cheeks guiltily and mumbled something under his breath—lip-reading suggested it was, “I don’t know anything.”  

Chong Jue watched quietly.  

Su Han Sheng muttered a few more words before suddenly sneezing so violently he nearly toppled backward.  

He exhaled a puff of frosty breath. Despite being bundled in layers, the cold was unbearable.  

Though he could endure heat, Su Han Sheng had no tolerance for freezing temperatures. He hopped on the spot, shivering.  

Sensing a gaze upon him, he glanced up suspiciously.  

But when he looked, all he caught was a glimpse of something white—perhaps mist or the hem of a robe—floating past the top corridor.  

Just then, Zhuang Lingxiu’s voice called from nearby: “Young Master Su.”

Su Han Sheng tightened his cloak, struggling to maintain his dignified demeanor as he turned around.  

Zhuang Lingxiu held a small wooden tray with several chilling Spirit Stones, smiling gently at him. “The sun is still strong, Young Master. Why not rest in the Spirit Mustard?”  

Su Han Sheng’s mind was still preoccupied with the bite marks on that pale neck, and he wasn’t quite ready to return to the top deck. He shook his head. “It’s fine. This is my first time traveling far, and I’ve never seen such an impressive Tower Ship before. I’d like to look around.”  

Zhuang Lingxiu was taken aback.  

Having escorted new disciples to the Enlightenment Academy for three or four years, he had encountered countless brilliant and spirited youths. The more prestigious their sect, the more arrogant and unruly they tended to be.  

Most disciples, even if seeing a massive Tower Ship for the first time, would awkwardly and stiffly pretend it was “nothing special,” afraid of being mocked for their lack of worldly experience and bringing shame to their sect.  

Yet Su Han Sheng admitted it openly and gracefully, which seemed at odds with the rumors of his wild, untamable nature.  

Zhuang Lingxiu’s gaze softened further. “This Tower Ship was built by disciples from the Ink Fetus Studio of the Academy over four years. I heard those senior brothers received top marks from several esteemed mentors upon graduation.”  

Each academy had its own unique teaching methods, and Su Han Sheng asked curiously, “Top marks?”  

“Indeed. They’re assessed once a year. If they score above eight points for four consecutive years, they graduate with top honors.” Zhuang Lingxiu smiled. “This Tower Ship is a rare masterpiece, so those senior brothers graduated without even needing to take their final exams.”  

Su Han Sheng asked, “What about the second tier?”  

Zhuang Lingxiu replied kindly, “The First Academy only has top honors. If you don’t achieve them, you repeat the year.”  

Su Han Sheng: “…”  

That sounded terrifying.  

As they spoke, several heads popped out from a nearby pavilion, shouting, “Zhuang the Dog! Bu Bei just beat those brats from the Cold Three Academy back to their hometown! He’s throwing a victory banquet tomorrow night—are you coming?!”  

Zhuang the Dog: “…”  

Su Han Sheng: “?”  

What was that—Zhuang the Dog?  

Was this some kind of affectionate nickname unique to the Enlightenment Academy?  

Zhuang Lingxiu’s lips twitched slightly as he struggled to maintain his refined composure. Ignoring them, he said gently, “Young Master, Bu Bei specifically instructed me to bring you these Cold Spirit Stones to ward off the heat.”  

Su Han Sheng was already shivering from the cold and instinctively stepped back. After a moment, he realized—”Bu Bei” was Xu Nan Xian’s courtesy name.  

Hearing it was his senior brother’s request, Su Han Sheng obediently took the Cold Spirit Stones, even if he was freezing like a drowned rat, and stuffed them into his pouch.  

“Thank you, Senior Brother Zhuang.”  

Zhuang Lingxiu smiled like polished jade.  

But before his smile could last, another loud voice erupted from the pavilion.  

“Bu Bei stole an entire stretch of the Immortal Lord’s Rain Blessing from the Cold Three Academy! Rumor has it he pissed off that bastard Qi Jian Yi so badly he coughed up blood—hahaha! I hereby declare Bu Bei my honorary father for the day!”  

“Hey, is that Young Master Su?! Let me see, let me see!”  

Once the others recognized Su Han Sheng beneath the parasol, the pavilions erupted into chaos. People craned their necks to get a look.  

Zhuang Lingxiu clenched his jaw, then suddenly gathered his energy in his Dantian. Gripping his sheathed sword, he unleashed a surge of spiritual power and roared, “Scram! Can’t you see I’m speaking with the Young Master?!”  

Su Han Sheng: “???”  

The shockwave made him tremble.  

The sword’s unseen force swept out like a gale, slamming all the pavilion windows shut with a violent “bang! bang! bang!” The crowd tumbled over each other, and the Tower Ship echoed with screams and wails—most likely from faces colliding with doors and windows.

Su Han Sheng shivered slightly, staring blankly at the “jade-like and ice-pure” Zhuang Lingxiu.

Zhuang Lingxiu’s wide sleeves, like those of an Immortal, fluttered as he sheathed his sword at his waist with practiced ease. When he turned around, his gentle smile had returned.

“Young Master, please don’t mind us. We were just fooling around.”

Su Han Sheng: “…”As soon as these words were spoken, the flamboyant character ‘Wen’ (gentle) on Zhuang Lingxiu’s forehead ribbon suddenly came to life.” The lower radical “皿” resembled a mouth with teeth, opening and closing as it issued a cold voice:

“Zhuang Lingxiu, not gentle.” Deduct half a point.”

Zhuang Lingxiu: “…”

Damn it.

Su Han Sheng was utterly bewildered.

Zhuang Lingxiu maintained his warm expression: “Would Young Master like to visit other areas? I’d be happy to accompany you.Su Han Sheng’s gaze lingered on the “Warm” character on Zhuang Lingxiu’s ribbon that kept shouting “Not gentle!” Not gentle!” He coughed dryly.

“N-no need. My uncle is waiting for me to attend scripture reading.”

It took Zhuang Lingxiu a moment to realize “uncle” referred to the World Honored One of Mount Sumeru. A flash of envy crossed his eyes before he smiled softly: “Then we won’t keep you, Young Master.”

Su Han Sheng turned and walked away shivering—whether from the worsening chill of the Cold Spirit Stones or from being shocked by Enlightenment Academy’s version of “fooling around.”

But just as he stepped onto the wooden stairs, Su Han Sheng paused and turned back: “Senior Brother Zhuang.”

Zhuang Lingxiu turned: “Does Young Master have further instructions?”

Su Han Sheng asked: “Is it possible for evil spirits to hide aboard the Tower Ship?”

Zhuang Lingxiu smiled reassuringly: “Rest assured, Young Master. The ship’s hull is engraved with arrays, and all passengers have verified life seals and matching spiritual roots. No strangers could possibly sneak aboard.”

Su Han Sheng fell silent.

In his past life, he only knew that this Tower Ship had crashed and Zhuang Lingxiu had perished, but none of the details.

Since the boarding procedures were so stringent, the attacking demonic cultivators must have broken through the Barrier mid-journey.

Zhuang Lingxiu noticed his unease: “Has Young Master noticed something amiss?”

“I have a bad feeling,” Su Han Sheng said truthfully. “I hope Senior Brother Zhuang will remain especially vigilant tonight.”

Zhuang Lingxiu smiled as if comforting a nervous child, his voice tender: “Of course, Young Master. Even if something does happen, as your escort, I would stake my life to protect everyone’s safety.”

Su Han Sheng’s grip on his umbrella tightened. He knew Zhuang Lingxiu meant every word—in his past life, the man had proven it with his life.

But lacking concrete details about the attack, he knew Zhuang Lingxiu wouldn’t believe him even if he explained. He could only nod before turning to ascend to the top deck.

The top level had two Spirit Mustard residences. Unsure which one Chong Jue had entered, Su Han Sheng hesitated before choosing the left one.

Shivering violently from cold, his mind raced about the impending Demon Race attack that night.

With Chong Jue aboard this time, surely the ship wouldn’t meet the same fate as before. The priority now was how to catch the attackers.

If he killed someone aboard the ship, would Chong Jue stop him again like with Qi Yuanshan?

Frowning deeply, Su Han Sheng pushed open the door.

The moment he stepped into the Spirit Mustard, the cold within him seemed to meet a warm spring breeze. The frost in his meridians melted into gentle streams flowing through his body.

Su Han Sheng froze, then looked up.

The Spirit Mustard was spacious yet austere like a grand hall. Directly ahead, behind a lotus-shaped lantern screen, someone sat in meditation. Incense smoke curled upward, filling the space like an ancient temple with eternal incense offerings.

Behind the screen, Chong Jue was chanting scriptures.

The sound of the door opening interrupted Chong Jue’s thoughts. He opened his eyes and turned his head, his dark green pupils reflecting the lotus candlelight like tranquil, deep pools. The flickering candlelight cast a faint glow on the prayer beads he was toying with in his hand.

“What is it?”

Su Han Sheng instinctively stepped back out of the Spirit Mustard, about to say he had entered the wrong place, but the coldness he had just shaken off surged back, making him shiver and sneeze.

Chong Jue frowned slightly.

Belatedly, Su Han Sheng realized that Chong Jue could not only suppress the Phoenix Bone Fire but also dispel the chill brought by the dormant Phoenix Bone.

Understanding this, the young master, ever adaptable, stepped back into the Spirit Mustard, feeling warmth spread through his body. In an instant, all traces of shyness and hesitation were forgotten.

Through the translucent screen, Su Han Sheng met Chong Jue’s gaze and spoke respectfully and obediently.

“Uncle, may I stay here and listen to your scripture recitation?”