I Might Be a Big Shot — Chapter 52
The onlookers’ gazes had all disappeared, leaving only Changkong Zhuoyu, Li Xinglun, and a statue of a human figure with a serpent’s tail at the bottom of the valley. To help Li Xinglun see clearly, Changkong Zhuoyu considerately dispersed the white mist around him so he could take in the scene before him. As for those yao beasts, Changkong Zhuoyu had already flung them far away, rendering them immobile.
Li Xinglun watched his seemingly omnipotent master, but instead of feeling joy, his heart was full of hidden worries. Of course he was happy that his master was strong, but such strength was simply not something the world could allow. Would Heaven’s Order permit his master to exist?
Changkong Zhuoyu, on the other hand, had no such concerns. He paced around the statue and said, “Are you going to keep pretending to be a statue, or shall I force you to speak?”
The moment he finished speaking, a voice floated out from a very distant place: “I didn’t expect you to make it here, one with destiny.”
It was a woman’s voice, full of majesty and solemnity. Coupled with the face of Nüwa carved on the statue, it made one involuntarily feel respect.
Unfortunately, standing before her were two eccentrics: Li Xinglun would only show respect to his master, while Changkong Zhuoyu would only respect himself. Neither took the matter of Nüwa’s inheritance or becoming a yao god seriously, so how could they be fooled by the Sacred Yao Spirit?
“I risked everything to see you, not to absorb you and become a yao god,” Changkong Zhuoyu said solemnly to the statue. “I just want to know what kind of great figure I truly am. How could such a perfect person — in appearance, cultivation, and state of mind — as myself exist in the mortal world? I can resolve most of the world’s doubts, but I can’t resolve my own. So I want to ask you: am I a descendant of Nüwa?”
Li Xinglun: “…”
Master was praising himself again. Although what he said was true, couldn’t he let someone else say it?
The statue was silent for a while before the voice spoke again: “Though you have met me, you do not have the token. I cannot pass the inheritance to you, one with destiny.”
It was hard to tell if the Sacred Yao Spirit always spoke in such a pre-recorded tone or if she was deliberately pretending to be unconscious.
“I don’t want the inheritance,” Changkong Zhuoyu wasn’t provoked and continued explaining earnestly. “Sacred Yao Spirit, tell me my identity.”
Li Xinglun gazed deeply at his master. Clearly someone who didn’t even care about gender or race, someone so free-spirited — why was he so fixated on his past?
This was also the Sacred Yao Spirit’s doubt, and her voice came from all directions to Changkong Zhuoyu’s ears: “What is gone is but fleeting smoke, one with destiny need not cling to it. The future is the path you must walk.”
“No,” Changkong Zhuoyu finally voiced his deepest question as he faced the statue of Nüwa. “I keep feeling that I’ve forgotten something very important. I still have my subordinates waiting for me to return — I must recover my memory.”
Where on earth did this fantasy about subordinates come from! Li Xinglun’s temple throbbed.
“Although I don’t understand what mortals cling to, I can feel that there is indeed a trace of Nüwa’s aura on you,” the Sacred Yao Spirit finally dropped her stiff tone and replied.
Changkong Zhuoyu was about to say something when the Sacred Yao Spirit added: “However, in my view, the power you use leans more toward Kunlun and Jade Pool. I don’t understand why there is such a contradictory aura on you.”
“So I really am the Kunlun sect master, Nüwa’s descendant, and the Queen Mother of the West’s heir?” Changkong Zhuoyu’s eyes lit up. “Then check again: am I also the reincarnation of a sword immortal, a Buddha cultivator over many lives, and a former blood cultivator?”
Hearing the words “blood cultivator,” Li Xinglun’s eyelid twitched. Just how unwilling was his master to let go of Xue Qianjie!
The Sacred Yao Spirit was clearly stumped. Even if left behind by Nüwa, she was just a wisp of divine thought. Though she had awareness, she could think of very little.
But she didn’t seem willing to say she didn’t know. After a moment of silence, she said, “Perhaps it is just destiny.”
Changkong Zhuoyu happily turned to Li Xinglun and said, “Disciple, did you hear? Nüwa’s divine thought acknowledges me!”
Li Xinglun: “…”
Although his jealousy of Xue Qianjie had reached a certain level, for his master’s happiness, Li Xinglun still swallowed the blood rising to his throat and quietly watched Changkong Zhuoyu’s smiling face.
But while he held back, the Sacred Yao Spirit couldn’t. After holding it in for a long time, she finally said, “At least you are not a descendant of Nüwa.”
If Changkong Zhuoyu had ears and a tail, they would surely have drooped at this moment. Unable to bear his master’s sadness, Li Xinglun asked on his behalf: “Then may I ask, Sacred Yao Spirit, how do you recognize Nüwa’s descendants? We didn’t come to the Mystic Fog Yao Valley to try our luck. We were specifically guided here by the Hundred Flowers sect’s sacred beast, at the sect master’s request. We did leave the token at the Hundred Flowers sect, so we indeed have no evidence. But even the Twin Serpents could recognize the trace of Nüwa’s aura on my master — you are a wisp of divine thought left by Nüwa herself, surely you are no less capable than the Twin Serpents?”
From the earlier exchanges, Li Xinglun vaguely sensed that the Sacred Yao Spirit not only had awareness but also simple emotions. Perhaps provoking her would work.
Sure enough, after his question, the statue trembled violently for a while, and the omnipresent voice rang out again: “There is indeed a trace of Nüwa’s aura on you, but…”
“But what?” Li Xinglun pressed on as soon as he saw a reaction. “But you lack the token? Can you only recognize people by the token, even less capable than a pair of snakes? Or is it that, having gained your own consciousness over the long years, you no longer wish to be absorbed? We don’t actually intend to become yao gods — my master merely hopes to understand his past.”
“No!” The voice grew agitated as the Sacred Yao Spirit exclaimed, “I only wish to guard the Mystic Fog Yao Valley. If my consciousness dissipates, the Mystic Fog Yao Valley will vanish, and the yao race will struggle to cultivate. Since I gained awareness, I’ve known I have two missions: one is to guard the Mystic Fog Yao Valley, the other is to pass on the inheritance to Nüwa’s descendant. But…”
“But over the long years, the first mission has far outweighed the second.” Li Xinglun’s voice softened as he turned to Changkong Zhuoyu. “Master, it’s up to you now.”
Changkong Zhuoyu walked up to the Sacred Yao Spirit, placed his right hand on his chest, and bowed deeply to the statue of Nüwa, saying, “Great Nüwa, I am deeply grateful for your trust and guidance. But I will not accept the Sacred Yao Spirit, because I hope the yao of the Mystic Fog Yao Valley can live happily. So, if I truly am a descendant of Nüwa, you may consider that I have accepted the inheritance — from now on, let no one covet the Sacred Yao Spirit, and grant the Mystic Fog Yao Valley peace.”
The statue listened quietly. When Changkong Zhuoyu finished speaking, her voice became very soft: “Do you know what it means to be a yao god? According to the inheritance I carry, it is shocking.”
“Then don’t tell me,” Changkong Zhuoyu said with a smile. “My disciple still has several cultivation stages to ascend through. Given his habit of sudden enlightenment at any time, how could he manage without me there to protect him?”
Though he knew Changkong Zhuoyu was just making excuses, Li Xinglun still felt overjoyed and couldn’t help but embrace his master, saying, “Master, do you mean it?”
“Of course,” Changkong Zhuoyu said. “Speaking of which, you’re progressing far too fast. I haven’t finished exploring the mortal world, and yet you’re ready to ascend!”
“Don’t worry,” Li Xinglun said with a smile. “As long as master wishes to remain in the mortal world, I will suppress my cultivation and never ascend. If you wish to go to the immortal realm now, I will ascend immediately and never keep you waiting.”
Changkong Zhuoyu grinned from ear to ear, stood on tiptoe, and rubbed his disciple’s head. “Such a good disciple of mine.”
Sacred Yao Spirit: “…”
As merely a wisp of divine thought, even though she had her own preferences, she didn’t have a complete thought process. She didn’t understand the sour, strange feeling rising in her awareness that made her want to unleash a tide of yao beasts to scatter these two. She could only quietly disperse the white mist.
Specifically, the mist above the embracing pair.
A booming voice came from above: “Did you two see the Sacred Yao Spirit?”
The pair immediately separated. The Sacred Yao Spirit felt a little more comfortable.
Li Xinglun glanced at the statue of Nüwa, thinking this fellow really was a killjoy. Luckily his master didn’t absorb her. If this awareness hadn’t fully dissipated and still lingered in his master’s mind, that would have been disastrous.
Changkong Zhuoyu rewrote the formation — he could also control the white mist now. With a casual wave, the mist once again covered the sky. The ten elders, encountering this situation for the first time, were circling anxiously above the valley, helpless. None of the nine dared jump down again, while the remaining one sat elegantly on a rock, lost in thought.
“How can I make others believe I have received Nüwa’s inheritance and still preserve the Mystic Fog Yao Valley?” Changkong Zhuoyu asked.
The Sacred Yao Spirit analyzed briefly with what little thought she had left and decided to trust Changkong Zhuoyu. She replied, “I will place a mark on you. When you leave, you can say you absorbed the Sacred Yao Spirit but used all the gained power to maintain the Mystic Fog Yao Valley’s barrier. And you replicated the cultivation method Nüwa left for the yao, so that future yao can continue finding suitable techniques to cultivate.”
Changkong Zhuoyu was about to agree when Li Xinglun stopped him and said to the Sacred Yao Spirit: “All the benefits are yours. My master gains nothing yet has to endure others’ jealousy.”
“This…” The Sacred Yao Spirit thought for a moment before saying, “Come here. I… I’ll give you some memories from ancient times. Since you are a divine cultivator, those ancient memories should be useful to you. Just… absorb gently — I don’t have much divine thought left.”
“No need to give them to me,” Changkong Zhuoyu smiled faintly. “I’m already invincible in this world; more won’t make a difference. Give them to my disciple. His cultivation method differs from others — knowing more is always good.”
Li Xinglun looked deeply at Changkong Zhuoyu, saying nothing. How his master treated him — he saw and remembered it all.
“Then come over and place your hand on mine,” the Sacred Yao Spirit’s voice said.
Li Xinglun stepped forward, placing his hand on the small palm of the statue. The statue glowed faintly, and a mysterious power flowed into his body.
And so Li Xinglun, yet again, entered meditation. Changkong Zhuoyu sighed out of habit and sat down beside his disciple.
~ Chapter End ~
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