Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Su Ming’s eyes snapped open.

There was no sky, no earth.

All he could see was an endless expanse of thick fog. This space carried a suffocating sense of deathly stillness and void.

Su Ming stood rooted to the spot, his pupils contracting violently.

He instinctively raised his right hand, his thumb quickly rubbing against the base of his index finger—where the Xuantian Ring should have been.

Empty.

The only texture his finger felt was the grain of his own skin. The ancient ring, which had accompanied him through countless days and nights and was his greatest reliance, was gone.

Su Ming’s breath caught for a moment, but under the steeled will forged through a thousand trials, he forcibly suppressed the panic threatening to devour his reason.

The faint sound of footsteps abruptly came from the thick gray fog ahead.

A figure slowly emerged from the gray mist.

It was a familiar robe. It was a face he had seen countless times.

Lin Yu.

But the moment Su Ming saw him, his heart plummeted like a stone into an abyss.

The Lin Yu before him was utterly different from the dim, fragmented soul within the Xuantian Ring that always seemed on the verge of dissipating in the wind.

His body was as solid as real flesh and blood, the hem of his robe even swaying slightly as he walked. But what chilled Su Ming to the bone was his gaze.

Those deep eyes no longer held their usual listlessness, no longer carried that vulgar disdain, nor the hidden concern buried beneath.

Only pure, unadulterated indifference remained.

Su Ming had seen that kind of look in the eyes of the lofty elders. It was the look given to a mature spirit herb, to a handy magical implement, to a perfect vessel.

“Master?”

Su Ming’s throat tightened, the two words slipping out unconsciously.

But the moment he spoke, an icy chill shot from the base of his spine straight to the top of his head.

Lin Yu stopped a yard away from Su Ming.

The corner of his mouth curled into an excruciatingly slow smile—a cold smile Su Ming had never seen before.

“Disciple.”

Lin Yu spoke, but his tone carried an unfamiliar, greedy quality.

“You’ve finally reached this step.”

He looked Su Ming up and down, his gaze like a sharp blade, as if trying to peel back Su Ming’s skin and see the bones within.

“Top-grade Water Spiritual Root, perfect Dao Foundation without flaw. This Golden Core stage body is barely enough for this old man to use.”

Boom!

The words hit Su Ming like a sledgehammer, slamming viciously into his Spiritual Platform.

Fear, like wild grass on a barren plain, grew uncontrollably in the depths of his heart.

In the world of cultivation, the weak were prey to the strong. Where did unconditional kindness ever come from?

An ancient mighty being, reduced to a remnant soul, dwelling within a ring, selflessly teaching formations, guiding cultivation, even burning his own soul power to block disasters for him. Was all of it really just master-disciple affection? Or… from that day in the dilapidated temple of the Great Xing Nation onward, had he merely been a carefully raised cauldron?

Lin Yu watched Su Ming’s violently shifting expression, the cold smile deepening on his face.

He slowly reached a hand toward Su Ming.

A terrifying pressure, so immense it seemed ready to collapse the gray-white space, erupted from his body. That was no power a Golden Core cultivator could possess; it was a soul pressure surpassing Nascent Soul, even brushing against Spirit Transformation.

“Hand your body over to your master.”

Lin Yu’s voice echoed through the void like a judgment. “Your path ends here.”

Su Ming’s body trembled violently under the crushing pressure, his knees groaning as if on the verge of breaking.

He stared fixedly at the familiar yet unfamiliar face.

In his mind, countless images flashed like a lantern show on a carousel.

He remembered that first time in the dilapidated temple of the Great Xing Nation, hearing that weak voice that seemed ready to fade at any moment.

He remembered at the secret passage in Iron Wall Pass, that dim soul body unhesitatingly shielding him, taking the lethal soul strike meant for him.

He remembered in the Formation Peak Secret Realm, that lonely silhouette standing silent and lost in thought before an ancient broken formation.

The warmth in those memories clashed madly in his Sea of Consciousness with the cold greed before his eyes.

Fear spread, the most primal reaction to the unknown and betrayal.

But deep within that abyss of fear, something else, something incredibly resilient, was taking root and growing in the mud.

“Crack…”

Su Ming gritted his teeth, the veins on his neck bulging like ropes.

Against the soul-crushing pressure, he lifted his head—slowly, yet with unwavering determination.

The chaotic waves in his eyes receded in an instant, settling back into an unfathomable stillness.

He stared straight into Lin Yu’s cold eyes.

“You’re not my master.”

Su Ming’s voice rang out in the silent gray-white space. Steady, indifferent, with no trace of the panic trapped by an inner demon.

“My master has never called me ‘disciple’ in that condescending tone.”

The corner of Su Ming’s mouth twitched, a razor-sharp edge flashing in his eyes.

“He would only curse me, calling me ‘You little brat.’”

The moment Su Ming’s words landed, the cold, ruthless mask on Lin Yu’s face suddenly showed a visible crack.

The hand he had extended in midair stiffened slightly, and the terrifying pressure, as if ready to crush heaven and earth, faltered.

Su Ming did not let that fleeting opening slip.

He bore the remnants of the pressure and took a bold step forward, his spine straight as an arrow, his eyes fixed on the other’s face like blades.

“I know the laws of the cultivation world better than anyone.”

Su Ming’s voice was steady and forceful, carrying a clarity that cut through the fog.

“A dark forest, where the weak are prey to the strong. A mighty being reduced to a remnant soul, finding a mediocre junior to use as a vessel for possession—that is indeed the most straightforward path for those ancient monsters.”

Su Ming stared coldly at the other, peeling open the doubt he had once harbored and casting it out into the sunlight.

“If you were really him, if you truly believed in that law, you would have acted long ago.”

Su Ming’s pace quickened, pressing step by step.

“In the dilapidated temple of the Great Xing Nation, I had just begun cultivation, my Dao Foundation damaged, my soul at its weakest. Possessing me then would have been effortless.”

“Beneath the walls of Iron Wall Pass, Elder Mo self-destructed, my life hanging by a thread, my consciousness nearly shattered. You could have easily taken advantage, turning the tables like the cuckoo occupying the magpie’s nest.”

“Outside the Tianji Pavilion of the Central Continent, facing the formless backlash of Heaven’s Dao, my Sea of Consciousness roiled. Each time, you had countless perfect opportunities!”

With every sentence, Su Ming took another step forward.

“If you wanted to possess me, why waste five hundred years of patience to wait until today?!”

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