The next morning, the sounds of cicadas and birds in the mountains woke Fan from his dreams.
He opened his eyes and imdiately felt rejuvenated; the True Yang within his body had inexplicably increased by a significant amount.
"Could I really be a cultivation prodigy? Does sleeping actually make my True Yang grow?" Fan pondered, lost in thought.
His mind was preoccupied with the hope of reaching the High Skill rank as soon as possible; only then could he recover the lifespan spent on awakening Divine Techniques, maybe even attempt to extract the Zhenwu Jade Scroll from his body.
Fan knew full well that, while this thing was precious, having it on him was more trouble than it was worth.
Yet to reach High Skill, the road ahead was incredibly long.
Those with great Daoist attainnt beca High Skill; so people never even touch this realm in their entire lives.
But now, although Fan was still just a Technique Apprentice, the True Yang inside him was rising swiftly, likely enough for him to perform four or five Small Skills.
Keep in mind: mastering twelve Small Skills qualified one for the Profound Master ranks.
Since leaving Zhenwu Mountain, it had only taken him a single night to observe his Primordial Spirit and experience Out-of-Body travel; later, he even awakened the Daoist Divine Technique, Samadhi True Fla...
So far, he’d only cultivated two or three months, yet his advancent was like this—even Fan himself felt sothing was wrong!!
Most notably, regarding what Jiang Hu ntioned yesterday, he had no mory of it at all.
"My Primordial Spirit must really be faulty..."
Fan’s brow furrowed; he picked up his phone, opened his contacts, and dialed Zhang Lingzong’s number.
"Sorry, the number you have dialed cannot be connected for now. If you’d like a call back from the other party..."
"Can’t connect?" Fan raised an eyebrow—not just nobody answering?
He hung up and dialed again, but still couldn’t get through.
"What’s going on?"
Fan checked the ti; at this hour, Zhang Lingzong shouldn’t be at the construction site yet.
"Your dad’s dad is a demon, your dad’s mom is a demon..."
Just then, Fan’s phone rang. The lodious ringtone filled the room, overpowering the cicadas and birds outside the window.
"He’s calling back..."
Fan jolted, grabbed his phone to look, but it wasn’t a return call from Zhang Lingzong. The display said...
"Li Yishan!"
Since returning from Zhenwu Mountain, Fan had been busy with Night is not bright and hadn’t contacted Li Yishan for so ti.
"Hey..." Fan answered, and Li Yishan’s voice ca through from the other end.
"Early in the morning—where did you go? How co no one’s ho at your place?"
"You’re at my front door?" Fan was taken aback; he checked the ti, only six o’clock.
"No shit, you’re not ho?" Li Yishan’s voice ca through the receiver.
"I’m at Zijin Mountain."
"What’re you doing at Zijin Mountain?"
"Working... Why are you looking for so early?" Fan couldn’t help but ask.
"Wanted to take you out for tofu pudding."
"Are you nuts? Looking for for tofu pudding at daybreak?"
Fan shot him a look, a strange expression on his face.
"It’s not just the tofu, okay... Don’t you scroll DouLe? The tofu beauty from the east side of the city is an internet celebrity now..." Li Yishan sounded excited.
The White Widow Tofu House was blowing up online; every day people lined up for her tofu, queues over an hour long just to get in.
"I spent eight hundred yuan scalping a ticket—was gonna invite you to see... to eat," Li Yishan said regretfully.
"You’ve really got nothing better to do..." Fan sniffed.
"Forget it, I’ll just go by myself."
Li Yishan was about to hang up as he spoke.
"Old Li..."
At that mont, Fan blurted out and stopped him.
"What is it?"
"Do you rember, when I transferred schools at twelve, I told you... I kept seeing weird things..."
"You an... the invisible horoom teacher?" Li Yishan paused for a mont.
When Fan was twelve, he’d just transferred; at school, he barely spoke and was withdrawn—only Li Yishan beca his friend.
But he’d often sit alone, talking to thin air, making everyone think sothing was wrong with him.
Li Yishan had asked him about it before, and Fan said the horoom teacher called him over, wearing glasses, high heel shoes, lipstick, looking fierce, and he didn’t dare disobey.
But it was odd because their horoom teacher was a man back then.
"I rember... you also said one evening, your dad didn’t co pick you up, that teacher wanted to take you ho, but halfway, a little girl with bobbed hair pulled you away... said that teacher wasn’t human..."
Li Yishan rattled on: "Later... they found you out cold by the school nurse’s office..."
"Didn’t your dad take you to see a doctor? Said it was trauma-induced fantasy disorder..."
At this, Li Yishan paused for a second. "Why’re you bringing this up all of a sudden?"
"I an, what if... what I saw was real... what if those weren’t just fantasies..." Fan muttered softly.
"Whoa, hold up... Old Zhang, what’s wrong with you? Ti can’t be retraced, the past can’t be looked at... Don’t dwell on stuff from before, seriously, don’t lose your mind," Li Yishan quickly interrupted, calling him back to reality.
"Got it... it’s nothing..." Fan replied casually, then hung up.
For inexplicable mysteries, only Primordial Spirit Observation can see them.
If back then, what he saw was real, if those were not illusions, then there was only one possibility...
"My Primordial Spirit... awakened once!?"
The mont this thought arose, Fan jumped in fright; but thinking it over, it actually seed to make sense.
Everything changed when he was twelve; if his Primordial Spirit really awoke that year, it gradually faded out afterward, which would explain why he couldn’t see those things anymore.
Thinking of this, Fan picked up his phone and dialed Zhang Lingzong’s number again, but it was still unreachable.
He hung up, flipped through his contacts, and found Liu Fusheng.
After a few "beep beep beep" rings, Liu Fusheng’s voice ca on the line.
"Fan, up so early... what’s the matter?"
"Uncle Liu, I can’t get through to my dad’s phone—do you know where he is?" Fan asked.
"Can’t get through? He should still be at the construction site..." Liu Fusheng was surprised, then asked, "Is it urgent?"
"No... just wanted to check in." Fan answered offhandedly.
"You’re all grown up now, caring about Laozi," Liu Fusheng laughed. "Don’t worry, try calling again later."
"Mm." Fan nodded.
"OK, I’ll hang up then."
"Uncle Liu..."
Right then, Fan suddenly called out.
"Sothing else?"
"Uncle Liu, do you rember my mom? I barely have any impression of her." Fan asked.
His mories seed divided right at age twelve, forming a gap.
On the other end of the line, there was silence.
"Your mom was very gentle, kind to everyone... she loved you dearly..."
Liu Fusheng grew quiet, his tone a little heavy, tinged with loneliness.
"She must have been wonderful... really wonderful..." Fan murmured softly; indeed, mories of his mother were hazy.
"Yeah... she was wonderful..." Liu Fusheng said gravely.
"After all..."
"She was a person..."
A faint sigh drifted across the phone—such words sounded deeply strange to Fan.
"A truly good person..."
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