Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life Chapter 123: Hall of Meritorious Deeds

Qingfeng's expression was intensely complicated, as if he were listening to an impossible fairy tale.

Mingyue's clear eyes were full of sympathy, her small hand clenched tightly, indignant over Su Ming's tragic fate.

"So, you, a third-level Qi practitioner, grabbed a Foundation Grand Perfection cultivator and jumped off a cliff with him, and you... actually drowned him alive?"

Qingfeng finished his summation, his tone dripping with disbelief to the point it seed irreconcilable.

That cause of death sounded even more absurd and bizarre than his original judgnt on the corpse.

Su Ming's face was pale as paper, his lips trembling.

He did not rush to answer. Instead he weakly coughed twice.

The cough hit his heavily wounded chest; under the stabbing pain, a fine cold sweat instantly dotted his temples.

In his eyes there was just the right amount of post-disaster fear and bleakness from having narrowly escaped death.

"In front of the sect elders, Su Ming dares not utter a single falsehood."

"At that ti, his palm force had already shattered my internal organs, and I knew I would certainly die."

"My only thought was that I could not let him have it easy; I had to take him with to the grave."

His voice was hoarse, yet threaded with the stubbornness and resoluteness of a scholarly soul.

"Perhaps Zhao Qianshan had done countless evil deeds, and heaven would not tolerate it. He was wounded by my... my family's short defensive sword, his qi was already in chaos. After falling into the water, he couldn't even draw a breath and was choked to death."

He attributed all the impossibilities to "heaven's will" and "a sliver of luck in desperate straits."

As for the broken sword that exuded murderous aura, he dismissed it as an ordinary "family short sword," after all he had already taken it back into the Xuantian ring, leaving no living witness.

Qingfeng was about to press further when Mingyue could not bear it any longer. "Senior brother!" she shot Qingfeng an irritated look, her tone clearly displeased, "Can't you see how badly he's hurt? Why keep interrogating him! The man barely escaped certain death, can't you let him rest?"

Saying that, she pushed the warm bowl of spirit-rice porridge a little closer to Su Ming.

"Hurry and drink, it'll help your body recover faster."

"Thank you, fairy." Su Ming nodded gratefully, bowed his head and sipped the porridge in small mouthfuls, speaking no more.

He knew well that too many words lead to mistakes.

Speak nine parts, leave one part unsaid, and you minimize openings for contradiction.

Qingfeng, caught off guard by Mingyue's rebuke, sniffed and rubbed his nose a little sullenly.

He looked at Su Ming's extrely weak state and ultimately did not probe further.

"Fine, rest here first." Qingfeng stood and recovered his small-adult deanor, "However, this matter is serious and must be reported to the sect. When you feel better, you will co with to the Hall of ritorious Deeds and explain everything exactly as it happened."

"Hall of ritorious Deeds?" Su Ming paused slightly and looked up.

"Yes, it's the place in the sect that handles rits, derits, rewards, and punishnts." Qingfeng explained. "Don't worry. Our Cloud Hidden Sect is a righteous and reputable sect. We won't wrong an innocent person. If you truly were the victim, the sect will uphold justice for you."

He spoke righteously, but in his heart his ntal abacus was clicking busily.

Saving a life, plus killing an 'evil cultivator'—that was a considerable rit. It might even offset the fault of secretly using a Little Shift Talisman.

Su Ming replied respectfully, "All is as the elder arranges."

The bamboo hut lay silent, only the rustling of wind through the green bamboo outside could be heard.

Half a month passed, felt to Su Ming both long and short.

Long, because day and night he endured bone-shattering pain.

Short, because every waking mont was consud by circulating the Greenwood Longevity Art.

The pure elixir power had long since been exhausted. Now his technique drew on the abundant vegetal spiritual energy of this place like a most diligent ant, carrying lifeforce bit by bit to nd his ruined body.

Every morning and evening the girl nad Mingyue would co on ti with dicinal broth and spirit-rice porridge.

She always wore a bright smile and chirped about sect gossip like a care-free lark.

The boy nad Qingfeng seldom showed up; when he did, he would rely stand at the doorway, scrutinize Su Ming a few tis with a critical gaze, then turn away.

Su Ming did not mind.

He kept his posture low, playing the role of a gentle, grateful, taciturn scholar in distress.

He did not speak much, but his thanks were always sincere.

He knew that his survival depended entirely on these two.

He kept their kindness in his heart.

But he also understood that his current situation was like a leaf drifting in a storm; any small disturbance could send him past all redemption.

"Ahem..."

Su Ming coughed violently, the old wound in his chest tugging painfully until cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

He looked inward. The severed ridians had been reconnected by spiritual energy to thirty or forty percent. Though still fragile, he was no longer on the brink of death.

"It's still too slow."

He clenched his fist.

His master’s Soul Body was still trapped in slumber; he had to recover his strength quickly and find a way to restore his master's soul.

This Cloud Hidden Sect, with its plentiful spiritual energy, was unquestionably his only hope for now.

He had to stay!

By any ans necessary!

Just as his thoughts churned, clear footsteps sounded outside the bamboo hut.

Not Mingyue's light steps, but two steady, powerful strides approaching the hut.

Su Ming's heart tightened. He imdiately reined in his mind, resud his weak and harmless guise, leaned against the head of the bed, and waited quietly.

Creak—

The bamboo door was pushed open by an invisible force.

Two young cultivators in dark practical garb entered.

The man in front seed about twenty-five or twenty-six years old, his features sharp, eyes keen as an eagle. A blackwood token engraved with the two characters "ritorious Deed" hung at his waist.

The youth behind him looked a bit younger, his face carrying an unhidden arrogance. His gaze swept over the simple bamboo hut, then rested on Su Ming with a flicker of disdain.

"You're the one Qingfeng and Mingyue brought back?"

The younger man behind spoke first, his tone carrying a condescending interrogatory edge.

Su Ming stirred inwardly.

Shi-shu?

Those two who looked only eleven or twelve actually had such high rank in relation?

He kept his expression composed and struggled to rise to bow. Weakly he managed to say, "I am Su Ming, greetings to the two elders."

"Enough, stay lying down."

The cold-faced leader waved his hand to stop his movent.

He pulled over a bamboo chair and sat down as if it were his right, his voice plain but carrying unquestionable authority.

"I am ritorious Deeds officer Liu Jing. Today I co to verify your identity and the matters concerning the death of that evil cultivator."

"You had better tell everything truthfully, down to the last detail."

"If there is so much as a single lie..."

Liu Jing did not finish the sentence, but his icy stare said it all.

A powerful spiritual pressure, like an invisible tide, instantly filled the bamboo hut.

Su Ming felt his breath hitch, as if a thousand-pound stone pressed on his chest, his soul suffering sharp stabs of pain.

That a single officer could possess such presence.

He forced down the discomfort and prepared to repeat the script he had practiced so many tis.

"Disciple Liu's nephew, what is all this commotion, disturbing my junior sister's peace?"