Chapter Five: Fourth Uncle’s Eavesdropping

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It had been nearly half a month since Xiao Cheng’s resurrection. Because of his past misdeeds before being reborn, the old master had punished him to face the wall for half a month. Thanks to his good behavior, his sentence was surprisingly reduced by two days.

During these days of wall-facing, Xiao Cheng had been diligently cultivating the Ninefold Immortal Sutra. This scripture was far more than a simple mental method: it contained not only supreme cultivation techniques but also countless Daoist arts and immortal spells. Most astonishing was its method for forging flying swords—a marvel of creation, a veritable encyclopedia of immortal cultivation.

Its myriad Daoist techniques and immortal arts need no elaboration; the scripture itself was a peerless mental cultivation manual. While ordinary manuals absorb spiritual energy from Heaven and Earth and convert it into true qi, this Immortal Sutra not only drew upon Heaven and Earth’s spiritual energy but also possessed a unique method to forcibly extract the spirit of grass and trees.

In this era when spiritual energy was scarce, the lack of it had become the greatest obstacle to cultivators’ progress. Yet this Immortal Sutra shattered that limitation entirely. No spiritual energy? Simply absorb the spirit of plants and trees.

The essence of this spirit was a fusion of spiritual energy and vitality—ethereal and elusive. No one had ever managed to directly utilize it, for none could extract it from flowers, grass, or trees. Now, with this special method that could forcibly absorb the spirit of vegetation, his cultivation speed would surely be greatly enhanced in the future.

Yet, to Xiao Cheng’s disappointment, the Ninefold Immortal Sutra consisted of nine layers, and he could only access the first.

He had worked hard these ten-odd days, and the results were remarkable. He was already a once-in-a-century prodigy in the family, having reached the peak of the innate stage in his previous life, just a step from forming his golden core. With the Immortal Sutra, cultivation was effortless: in a short time, he broke through to the fourth tier of Foundation Establishment like a hot knife through butter.

He was satisfied with this breakthrough speed, but remained humble—he’d seen countless geniuses in the cultivation world in his previous life, some of whom completed Foundation Establishment in three days, reaching the Condensation Realm.

Xiao Cheng had never lived in the family compound; the Xiao family was a clan of hidden cultivators, and naturally didn’t reside in the bustling city. Yet the younger generation needed to attend school and manage family affairs.

Because Xiao Cheng was at university, he lived with his sister-in-law Yu’er. Today, he returned home directly but forgot his keys, so he went to the company to get them from her.

Xiao Cheng made his way to the eighteenth floor, intending to visit the CEO’s office. As he arrived, he saw a familiar figure standing at the office door, ear pressed tightly against it, eavesdropping.

Upon closer inspection, he realized it was his fourth uncle, Xiao Guowei.

Xiao Cheng sneered coldly. Though he didn’t know what Xiao Guowei was eavesdropping on, the malicious curl of his lips made it clear nothing good was afoot.

Although Xiao Cheng had drifted through his previous life, focused only on causing trouble and indifferent to other matters, he still knew plenty about major events.

This fourth uncle, two years later, would seize control of Shanghai Xiao Pharmaceuticals and break away from the family to establish his own faction, inflicting enormous losses on the clan—a man with sinister intentions.

To Xiao Cheng, Xiao Guowei was already a threat to the family’s interests. Even if it was only a future possibility, he would never allow it and would nip such tendencies in the bud.

But not now—if it came to a real fight, Xiao Cheng knew he was no match for Xiao Guowei, who was not just a petty schemer but also a master of internal martial arts.

“Fourth Uncle, what are you listening to? Is it interesting?” Xiao Cheng walked over and patted Xiao Guowei’s shoulder.

Xiao Guowei was startled, wondering why the scoundrel walked so quietly—like a ghost.

He turned around to find Xiao Cheng staring at him. Perhaps out of guilty conscience, he instinctively lowered his head and explained, “I’m worried Yu Jia might be deceived, so I’m listening in!”

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After finishing, Xiao Guowei felt uneasy—he had no need to explain himself, Xiao Cheng was just an incorrigible, good-for-nothing young master.

He lifted his head, but still dared not meet Xiao Cheng’s gaze, sensing something strange in his eyes.

Xiao Cheng nodded indifferently, satisfied with the effect of his glance. Though rebirth had cost him his peak innate cultivation, his spiritual sense remained—a pressure few could withstand.

“Xiao Cheng, what are you doing here? This is a restricted area for the company, not a place for you!” Xiao Guowei, feeling humiliated by his prior explanation, barked at Xiao Cheng with a stern, angry air.

“I can’t come here? Fourth Uncle, you must be joking.” Xiao Cheng couldn’t be bothered to argue, and prepared to knock on the office door.

He was the only direct descendant of the Xiao family—what place was off-limits to him? Besides, this was hardly his first visit here.

“Wait! Yu Jia is in a business meeting—don’t disturb her now!” Xiao Guowei barked again, this time reaching out to grip Xiao Cheng’s wrist, preventing him from knocking.

Xiao Cheng grew more suspicious. Was it just a door knock—why was the old man so agitated?

He was no longer the naive youth of yesteryear; seeing Xiao Guowei so agitated, and recalling the eavesdropping, he guessed something was amiss.

Could this man be planning harm against Sister Yu’er?

Xiao Cheng stared coldly at Xiao Guowei, his heart tensing. Of all people in the world, he cared most for his sisters-in-law, younger sisters, and grandmother. If anyone dared harm them, he would never forgive it.

Xiao Cheng’s expression grew frosty, his killing intent ignited.

Sensing the chill emanating from Xiao Cheng, Xiao Guowei, out of instinctive fear, released his grip.

Xiao Guowei felt Xiao Cheng had changed, but couldn’t pinpoint how. It was as if a single glance could pierce straight through, revealing every sordid secret lurking in his heart.

He shook his head, amused—perhaps he was simply overtired, making mountains out of molehills.

He’d watched Xiao Cheng grow from a child into a scoundrel, his own machinations contributing to the outcome. How could a wastrel suddenly become so terrifying overnight—even ancestral blessings couldn’t make that happen.

“You’re being unusually talkative today,” Xiao Cheng said, eyes narrowed at Xiao Guowei.

“Impudent! I am your fourth uncle.” Xiao Guowei rebuked.

Though he still considered Xiao Cheng an incorrigible troublemaker, he wouldn’t allow Xiao Cheng to disrupt his plans.

Xiao Cheng lacked ability, but had a unique talent for turning anything into chaos—a born mischief-maker.

Xiao Guowei stood in the doorway, blocking Xiao Cheng’s entry.

Xiao Cheng sneered coldly—the more agitated Xiao Guowei became, the more certain he was: Xiao Guowei was indeed planning to act against Sister-in-law Fang Yu Jia.

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In his previous life, Xiao Cheng had muddled through, never considering matters from the perspective of the family heir, nor shouldering the responsibility. Only after his sisters-in-law passed away did he realize they had been the ones desperately supporting the family, cleaning up after his messes time and again.

Four frail women, holding up the clan—how arduous.

All four died protecting him. Fang Yu Jia, most of all, shielded him with her own body from a fatal sword. Now, with Xiao Guowei seemingly plotting against her, Xiao Cheng would never allow it.

Xiao Cheng wasted no words. He reached out his right hand, caught Xiao Guowei’s collar unawares, twisted and lifted him into the air, then tossed him aside with a wave, like shooing away a disgusting fly.

Xiao Guowei, furious at being manhandled, had worked tirelessly for the family, earning even the patriarch’s respect. Yet Xiao Cheng dared humiliate him so.

Before he could protest, he felt weightless—his feet left the ground, and his tall, hundred-kilogram frame was lifted like a chick.

Xiao Guowei was aghast. Though unable to practice the family’s secret arts, he was a master of internal martial arts. How could the always useless Xiao Cheng so effortlessly lift him?

He hadn’t even noticed Xiao Cheng’s move. Even the patriarch, Xiao Fusheng—a master at the innate level—couldn’t do this so easily.

Could Xiao Cheng’s cultivation surpass the patriarch’s? Impossible—it simply couldn’t be. He’d watched Xiao Cheng grow up; there was no way he could become a master overnight. It must have been carelessness that let the boy succeed.

“You—” Xiao Guowei tried to rebuke him, only to find himself airborne, his voice stretched out. The fall left him with internal injuries, unable to get up for a long while.

Xiao Cheng dusted his hands, frowning at the fallen Xiao Guowei, deeply satisfied.

Only he knew that move had nearly exhausted his entire cultivation. He was currently only at the fourth tier of Foundation Establishment; in a direct fight, he would never be a match for his fourth uncle, a master at the pinnacle of internal martial arts.

Internal martial arts seemed less promising than cultivation, but before reaching the innate stage, cultivators were no match for internal martial artists in close combat. Each discipline had its specialty; internal martial arts focused on routines and techniques, which cultivators lacked.

It was like a decathlete fighting a martial artist—usually, the martial artist would win.

Only upon reaching the innate stage with innate true qi protecting the body could a cultivator easily handle internal martial arts masters.

In truth, it was his spiritual sense that interfered with Xiao Guowei’s five senses, allowing him to seize the collar. Compared to internal martial artists, the greatest advantage cultivators possessed was spiritual sense, while martial artists relied solely on their five senses.

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