The clamor dispersed, the crowd receded.
Mo Fan walked alone on the winding mountain path back to the servant quarters. Though his steps were limping, his mood was unprecedentedly relaxed.
"Having accomplished the deed, depart; conceal merit and fame."
He silently recited these two lines of poetry in his heart, feeling his silhouette grow taller.
A-Song's "angel round project" was a complete success. Superior-grade Wood Spirit Root, personal disciple of the Sect Master—this not only meant the child would soar skyward, but also meant he, Mo Fan, had planted a super sleeper agent in this world capable of shaking the future.
And all of this, except for him and A-Song, no one knew.
"No one knows I cultivated him, no one knows I gave him the opportunity. This loneliness..."
Mo Fan shook his head, a self-mocking smile on his lips. "Truly, it's lonely at the top."
He'd even planned the script for after returning:
Push open that worn courtyard gate—Old Lü would surely still be worried about A-Song not returning, and Er Ya would probably ask if Seventh Brother had been eliminated.
Then he'd bring out a pot of inferior liquor, sit under the locust tree with Old Lü, drink while lamenting how relationships cool once people leave, how cold the world is, and finally reveal timely traces of "as long as the child is well, I'm content" paternal (though he was just a cousin) relief.
Perfect.
This was the demeanor a puppet master should have.
However.
When Mo Fan rounded the last mountain bend and saw the familiar servant quarters in the distance, his steps suddenly halted.
"What... is going on?"
The originally desolate courtyard that should only have a few cawing crows and reek of slum atmosphere was now boiling over like an exploded pot, voices clamorous, noise shaking the heavens.
Even from afar, Mo Fan could see dust rising skyward and several streams of light cutting across the sky.
Flying swords? Paper cranes? Even some auspicious cloud artifacts?
"Could it be that Chief Elder had second thoughts and sent people to investigate A-Song's background?"
Mo Fan's heart jumped. His first reaction was "this is bad."
If those powerful beings discovered A-Song had been "artificially ripened" by a Necromancer, not only would A-Song be finished, he'd have to follow him to the grave.
He instinctively pressed his hand on his storage pouch, ready to flee at any moment (though he couldn't escape).
But soon, he realized something was off.
Those surrounding his doorstep weren't some imposing law enforcement squad, but a group of... extremely excited, even somewhat frenzied cultivators.
Mo Fan pulled down his bamboo hat and squeezed through the crowd watching the excitement.
One look nearly gave him cardiac arrest.
His small courtyard, only surrounded by a bamboo fence, was now packed so tightly not even water could leak through. Three layers deep inside and out, all people. Many had even climbed onto surrounding rooftops and treetops to grab good positions.
These people weren't holding knives, swords, or magical treasures, but rather various shaped [ Image-Capturing Stones ] and something like voice recorders called [ Recording Tablets ].
The identity badges hanging on their chests were bewildering in variety, making Mo Fan's eyes spin:
Azure Cloud Daily
Outer Sect Gossip Weekly
Alchemy Peak Express
Cultivation World Shocking News Department
In mid-air, two Foundation Establishment cultivators in inner sect robes were confronting each other on flying swords, neither yielding.
"Wang Number Two! You're blocking my light! This is a front-page position, move aside!"
"Bullshit! I got here first! You Alchemy Peak Express people just know how to leech off trending topics. This kid has Wood Spirit Root—by rights, we at Spirit Plant Weekly should report it!"
"..."
Mo Fan hid in a corner of the crowd, cold sweat instantly pouring down.
He instinctively touched the storage pouch at his waist, feeling a wave of belated fear.
"Holy crap... thank goodness I had the foresight."
Before leaving the village, to avoid unnecessary trouble, he'd deliberately put Mo Yan (Summon No. 001)—who, though now having legal status, still emanated a "keep away from the living" aura—into the pouch.
"If this pack of reporters with noses sharper than dogs photographed an undead creature in my home, or those monster beast bones I haven't had time to destroy..."
Headlines for tomorrow instantly flashed through Mo Fan's mind:
SHOCKING! Sect Master's Personal Disciple's Brother Is Actually an Evil Cultivator?
Behind the Genius Youth: Not Just Sweat, But Corpse Water Too!
The image was too beautiful; he dared not look.
At this moment, in the center of the courtyard.
Old Lü still held a cooking spatula, wearing an oil-stained apron, standing there completely bewildered. He was like an old sheep suddenly thrown into a wolf pack, trembling, completely unable to understand the situation.
He had no idea A-Song had tested as Superior-grade Spirit Root, much less knew anything about becoming the Sect Master's personal disciple.
He only knew A-Song and Mo Fan had left early in the morning and still hadn't returned. When this group suddenly rushed in, he thought A-Song had caused some catastrophic trouble outside and creditors had come knocking.
"Esteemed immortal masters... esteemed immortal masters..."
Old Lü stammered, trying to explain. "A-Song is an honest child. If he broke something, I'll compensate... I'll sell everything, even melt down my pots, to compensate..."
"Compensate what? Old sir, you're too humorous!"
A female cultivator holding a recording tablet frantically shoved the microphone to Old Lü's mouth. "Please tell us, did Brother Li Hansong show any unusual signs as a child? Like purple Qi coming from the east at birth? Or perhaps a room full of fragrance?"
"Huh?"
Old Lü was dumbfounded. "No... none of that. He was a refugee orphan. When he came, he was thin as a monkey... Oh right, back then he... he wet the bed pretty badly."
"Write it down! Quick, write it down!"
A male cultivator beside him responsible for recording frantically scribbled while excitedly shouting, "Genius showed abundant kidney Qi in youth; when water is full, it overflows—a sign of exceptional talent and vigorous energy! Great headline! Absolutely viral!"
Mo Fan, listening from outside the crowd, felt his mouth twitching.
What abundant kidney Qi? The kid didn't have blankets in winter—he was freezing!
"Then please tell us, what Spirit Medicines did he usually eat to build his foundation?" Another reporter squeezed forward unwilling to be outdone. "To cultivate Superior-grade Wood Spirit Root, he must have eaten some heavenly treasures, right?"
"Spirit Medicines?"
Old Lü was even more confused. He glanced at the spatula in his hand—he'd been stir-frying pickled vegetables. "He just loved eating... roasted sweet potatoes. Does that count?"
"Sweet potatoes?"
The reporter froze for a moment, then even more fervent light burst from his eyes.
"Shocking! Superior-grade Wood Spirit Root was actually cultivated from eating sweet potatoes? What profound Dao principles lie behind such simplicity? Sweet potatoes may become the cultivation world's biggest winner!"
"Quick! Go buy sweet potatoes! Buy out all the sweet potatoes in the surrounding towns!"
Watching this absurd scene unfold like a farce before his eyes, Mo Fan shrank in the shadows, momentarily unsure whether to laugh or cry.
He'd originally thought the cultivation world was aloof, cruel, and removed from worldly concerns.
But reality had slapped him hard in the face.
Here too, there was traffic-chasing, hype, and paparazzi who'd stop at nothing for attention.