Chapter 248: He Is Qing Yan, The Resolute Master Qing Yan
This novel is translated and hosted only on Bcatranslation
“Junior Sister Ye, why are you also calling me Third Senior Brother like Yu Xiao Zhao does? From now on, please call me Senior Brother Su instead. I’m afraid Yu Xiao Zhao might get upset and stop playing with me.”
Su Ming’s face displayed a gentle smile with shallow dimples, yet he was unusually serious as he corrected her mistake, insisting she promise not to call him that again.
Yu Zhao was startled by her own words after calling him “Third Senior Brother.”
Su Ming was indeed her senior brother, but why had she addressed him so affectionately? She felt both embarrassed and confused.
Despite Su Ming’s seemingly aloof attitude, she could completely understand his reaction. After offering a sincere apology and promising not to make the mistake again, she returned to her personal cave dwelling.
Her residence was her late father, Elder Sun’s, former abode. Following her father’s passing, the sect had allocated it to her, providing her with an excellent environment for cultivation.
Yu Zhao sat cross-legged, one hand propping her chin while the other rested on her knee. Her half-closed eyes revealed a troubled expression.
Something was definitely wrong with her today!
Her memories told her she was Ye Cong Xin, the true and authentic Ye Cong Xin, yet she couldn’t fully feel it in her soul.
Was she sick? Or perhaps suffering from amnesia?
The more Yu Zhao thought, the more her head ached. Her breathing quickened, and she collapsed to the ground.
At that moment, she realized it wasn’t just an ordinary headache—she was having an attack.
Strangely, she didn’t panic. Instead, a peculiar sense of inevitability washed over her. She felt alien to her own body, unfamiliar with its condition.
It was as if someone were squeezing her throat, cutting off her air supply. Her chest felt like it was about to explode, her face turned blue and purple, and her body convulsed uncontrollably.
Judging by her memory, this episode was more severe than any she had previously experienced. She might not survive this time.
Yu Zhao did her best to relax and await death.
Suddenly, a buzzing sound erupted in her sea of consciousness.
“Ye Cong Xin, if you sign a contract with me and help me plunder others’ fortunes, I can grant you a healthy body.”
Summoning her spiritual energy with difficulty, Yu Zhao asked, “What happens to the people whose fortune I take?”
“They might become ordinary, suffer endless misfortune, or even die,” the voice replied nonchalantly.
“Then I won’t sign.”
“Why not?”
“I’m barely surviving myself. Why drag innocent people into my mess?”
Yu Zhao didn’t even know who she truly was, let alone have the energy to concern herself with others.
“If you make the pact, you won’t die! Your future will be smooth sailing, and everyone who once looked down on you will grovel at your feet.”
“No one in the Five Elements Dao Sect looks down on me,” Yu Zhao replied calmly. Despite her frail body, she had the support of uncles and elders in the sect, and no one dared to bully her.
“And what about Yu Zhao? She’s your age, yet possesses top-tier talent, a powerful master, and adoring senior brothers. Don’t you resent her?”
“What does Yu Zhao have to do with me? Her talents weren’t stolen from me. Why should I resent her?”
The voice in her mind grew frustrated.
“You…”
It muttered complaints about Yu Zhao’s wooden-headedness, her inability to seize opportunities, and her ignorance of her lucky break. Yu Zhao found it oddly amusing, letting the voice rant while occasionally chiming in to keep it talking.
But as she listened, Yu Zhao suddenly sat up in shock.
Wait a minute, wasn’t she supposed to be dying?
Why wasn’t she dead yet?
She looked down at herself, pulling at her robes. The bruises and internal injuries she had were gone.
“Is this… fake?” she murmured, her mind racing with countless possibilities.
Before she could investigate further, the voice in her mind declared its withdrawal.
“Yu Zhao, you got lucky this time. Next time, you won’t be so fortunate.”
And just like that, as her memories returned, she was thrust into yet another illusion.
…
Su Ming trudged silently behind Master Qing Yan, his head lowered as if in deep contemplation. He remained tight-lipped, like a sealed gourd. The primary reason for his silence was his nervousness in the presence of his master, but there was another pressing issue—he was struggling to keep up.
He couldn’t understand why his master chose to travel by foot instead of teleporting him and Quan Ye. This mundane and exhausting mode of travel was particularly grueling for Su Ming.
He had no choice but to abandon his own pace and force himself to match Master Qing Yan’s, leaving him in a state of complete disarray.
What Su Ming didn’t know was that the decision to walk wasn’t his master’s but another entity’s—a foreign soul using this as an opportunity to teach him a lesson.
“Su Ming isn’t unintelligent, but he’s too gullible. He doesn’t even realize the treasures he holds and is utterly clueless. A bit of hardship will do him good, lest he embarrasses us further,” the foreign soul remarked.
Master Qing Yan’s expression remained icy, his usual demeanor making it impossible for anyone to discern his irritation.
“You’re wasting my time with your so-called lesson,” Qing Yan said coldly.
“Disciplining a disciple is the master’s responsibility. Someday, you’ll understand,” the soul retorted confidently.
“I don’t need your misguided sense of ‘help.’”
“Qing Yan, you chose to be a master. Fulfill your duties, or you’ll regret it in the future.”
“Regret? I never regret.”
“Ha! I said the same once. Now, I regret it deeply. Unfortunately, there’s no remedy for hindsight.”
Qing Yan sneered. “That’s you, not me. I won’t.”
The soul fell silent, seemingly conceding. But its earlier words lingered in Qing Yan’s mind, an unwelcome echo.
Would he regret it?
Of course not. He was Qing Yan—Master Qing Yan. Resolute and unyielding.
As he prepared to change the subject, Su Ming stumbled and fell. Qing Yan turned, his gaze colder than ever.
Even basic travel was too much for this boy. A burden. He might as well send him back to avoid further annoyance.
“Wait, let’s hear Su Ming out first,” the soul suggested, halting Qing Yan before he could speak harshly.
Su Ming, despite the pain of his fall, felt a pang of fear. Making a fool of himself before his master would surely deepen Qing Yan’s dislike of him. He clenched his fists in frustration and began digging out the rock that had tripped him.
The rock was triangular, fist-sized, and glimmered faintly under the sun. Su Ming grabbed it angrily, intending to curse at it, but a force suddenly snatched it from his hand.
He leaped up, furious. “Who dares snatch from me, you… Master! I’m sorry, I wasn’t scolding you!”