Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Time in cultivation passed in a blur.

One shichen slipped away in an instant.

As the glow from the floating copper talisman dimmed, the silver waterfall cascading from the dome faded with it, and the skylight closed again with a muffled thud.

The cave dwelling returned to the soft illumination of the night pearls.

Su Ming slowly opened his eyes, and at the deepest point of his pupils a flash of piercing silver-blue light interwove and vanished.

He exhaled, and the breath condensed into tiny ice crystals in midair, which tinkled as they hit the bluestone floor.

“So pure star force.”

Su Ming clenched his fist, feeling the spiritual energy inside him that had been refined to more than double its previous density, and a satisfied smile tugged at his mouth.

A single shichen of starlight bestowal equaled what his ordinary month of grueling cultivation would yield. Now, he was truly only separated from the mid Foundation Establishment stage by a wafer-thin layer—so thin he could force his way through at any time if he wished.

He glanced down at the shadow by his leg.

The little one was obviously stuffed full; its tiny belly was round and bloated as it lay on Su Ming’s dao robe, contentedly belching. Its feathers had taken on an even deeper, gleaming blue, and even the few stiff feathers at its wing tips had hardened to something like steel.

“Nineteen shichen of stock.” Su Ming carefully tucked the talisman into his clothes as if it were a rare treasure. “Enough to push my cultivation steadily to mid Foundation Establishment before I enter the secret realm, and even enough to temper Shadow’s bloodline a bit.”

But before that, he still needed to deal with some accumulated mundane affairs.

Su Ming stood, flicked his finger lightly, and Shadow obediently transformed into a streak of black light, settling steadily on his left shoulder.

“Go check the Repair Hall in the outer sect.”

Sunlight filtered through gaps in the ancient trees, scattering mottled light across the greenstone steps.

Su Ming wasn’t wearing the dazzling purple robe that signified a True Disciple of Formation Peak. Instead, he had changed into the plain gray uniform most outer sect disciples wore.

He knew very well that if a newly risen True Disciple flashed too much in front of outer sect disciples who didn’t know the truth, it would only invite unnecessary envy and trouble.

Low profile was always the best rule for longevity.

Shadow stood neatly on his shoulder, tilting its small head now and then, its golden pupils curious as it took in the scenery along the way.

One man and one bird followed the winding mountain path at an unhurried pace and arrived at the outer sect area.

Before they even approached the Repair Hall, Su Ming heard a highly rhythmic, dense clatter of hammering and the sizzling sound of spiritual energy tracing formation lines.

Rounding a ridge, the scene before him made Su Ming’s brows lift slightly.

Is this still that dilapidated courtyard I took over?

The Repair Hall had outwardly expanded to more than double its original size. The weed-choked open ground had been leveled into a plaza paved with bluestone. On both sides of the courtyard, two spacious, bright workshops had been added.

Inside the workshops, a long operation table ran through like an assembly line from the mortal world.

A dozen or so young apprentices in matching uniforms kept their heads down, working on the line with extreme focus. Some refined formation materials, some carved base patterns, and others packed in spirit sand—division of labor was clear and their movements practiced to perfection.

And in the center of the plaza, a conspicuous figure paced back and forth inspecting everything.

Wang Defa bared his chest, showing off his oiled, slick rolls of flesh, noisily chewing on a calming spirit herb between his teeth while swinging a heavy iron hammer carved with solidifying runes.

He looked like a supervisor from some wealthy mortal landlord household, his big bell-like eyes fixed on the apprentices’ techniques, occasionally letting out a coarse bark.

“Old Six! Your ‘Spirit Gathering pattern’ is a dog’s crawl! Can’t you see the spiritual flow was cut off? Redo it!”

“Zhang Asheng, pack up this batch of repaired formation plates. The Vessel Hall’s people came to push this afternoon, don’t dawdle!”

Su Ming watched and a trace of amusement flickered across his eyes.

Though Wang Defa’s talent was mediocre and he was a bit petty, in management and execution he was indeed a rare talent.

“Hall Master!”

Before Su Ming had even stepped into the courtyard, perceptive Wang Defa had already spotted the gray robe.

Like seeing his own father, Wang Defa abruptly dropped his hammer and scrambled over. He ran so fast his rolls of flesh were squeezed together, his face widening into a grin so broad his eyes disappeared.

“Hall Master, you finally came down the mountain! Everyone’s been waiting for you!” Wang Defa flattered, grabbing at Su Ming’s robe as if about to kowtow.

Su Ming nodded slightly, casually sat on a stone stool in the yard, and Shadow nimbly leapt from his shoulder onto the corner of the stone table, coldly staring at the fat man.

“How’s the hall been lately?” Su Ming asked in a calm tone.

At those words, Wang Defa straightened to attention, glancing around with extreme caution before leaning toward Su Ming’s ear and lowering his voice deliberately, though his fervor could not be fully concealed.

“Hall Master, business has been unbelievably good!” Wang Defa rubbed his hands together in excitement. “Since you set that ‘standardized customization’ rule, our Repair Hall’s name has really spread—out in the outer sect and even into the inner sect! Now it’s not just the Spiritual Plant Garden and Spirit Beast Peak, even those haughty sword cultivators from Heavenly Sword Peak are naming us for sword formation plates.”

He swallowed and raised four thick fingers: “Not counting the stockpiled materials in the storeroom, the contribution points we can use have surpassed four hundred thousand!”

Four hundred thousand contribution points.

For an outer sect menial institution, that number was a dizzying figure enough to make people envious.

But to Su Ming it elicited no ripples. Compared to the ten thousand mid-grade spirit stones Grand Elder had casually handed him, these four hundred thousand contribution points were notable but not earth-shattering.

He understood clearly that this was the foundation of his foothold at the sect’s lower levels and his most stable source for routine materials.

“But…” The fervor on Wang Defa’s face suddenly drained away; the rolls of flesh on his face tightened into a tangled expression of hesitation and resentment. “Hall Master, when a tree stands out in the forest the wind will topple it. Someone’s been sabotaging us behind our back lately.”

Su Ming tapped the table with his fingers but did not seem surprised. “From the Vessel Hall?”

“How did you know?” Wang Defa’s eyes widened, and he spat angrily. “It’s those bastards from the Vessel Hall! They’re jealous of our profits and have been secretly undercutting us. Just the day before yesterday they offered double pay and poached the two most skilled apprentices from our assembly line!”

Wang Defa grew angrier as he spoke: “Though those two leaving won’t cripple our line, it opened a terrible precedent. Now our apprentices’ hearts are restless; many privately whisper about Vessel Hall’s treatment. If this keeps up, the skilled workers we train will be drained away!”

“We haven’t caught conclusive evidence, but it’s obvious even with your toes—it's that Steward Sun from the Vessel Hall!” Wang Defa ground his teeth. “After you disgraced him before, that grudge’s settled. He’s trying to cut the root and sink our foundation!”