When the Cannon Fodder Male Supporting Role Picks Up the Script - Chapter 22

Not only Cheng Yu, but also several disciples of the Tiandao Sect in the lobby look confused. They have all been disciples for more than ten years, but they have never heard this name.

Lu Qi explains helplessly, “It’s Senior Brother Shen.”

Everyone suddenly understands.

Yun Zhuoran’s expression does not change as he says, “He went to the City Lord’s Mansion. Are you looking for him?”

“Of course, it’s fine if he’s not here!” Li Jianming doesn’t like Shen Lingshu, feeling that he is overly cautious and hiding things.

Although Yun Zhuoran remains silent, Li Jianming does not hide his feelings. He then asks Cheng Yu, “Did you all not know that Shen Lingshu used to be called Shen Yu? Shen Yu and Shen Mingfeng were born with innate Dao bones, they then entered under the guidance of Sect Master Gu, and were quite famous in Shengjing! He only changed his name after Sect Master Gu passed away; I still prefer to call him Shen Yu.”

Compared to Cheng Yu, Gu Qiuming entered the sect later. Ever since he heard about Shen Lingshu, he’d known him only by that name and did not realize he had another name; the name change is also to follow his master’s example.

Shen Lingshu does not like to talk about this topic either.

Li Jianming cannot keep his mouth shut and continues, “But I think his innate Dao bones aren’t as impressive as the rumors say. In comparison, Yun Zhuoran’s Chaotic Heavenly Spiritual Root cultivates faster.” He looks puzzled and asks Yun Zhuoran, “How come it has taken you so many years just to form your Golden Core?”

In Li Jianming’s view, with Yun Zhuoran’s extraordinary cultivation speed, he shouldn’t be surpassed by Shen Lingshu. Yet, Yun Zhuoran suddenly slowed down, allowing many peers with inferior talents to overtake him.

However, Gu Qiuming and the others do not know about this. When they first saw Yun Zhuoran, they did not even know who he was. Upon learning that his spiritual root is the top-tier Chaotic Heavenly Spiritual Root, which is said to be on par with innate Dao bones and far superior to various other spiritual roots, both he and the other disciples in the hall are left speechless.

One should know that the number one under the Dao is Gu Shenshu, whose spiritual root is the Heavenly Spiritual Root, regarded as a top-tier spiritual root, alongside innate Dao bones and innate sword bones. Following closely is the genius of the Tianqing Sect, Yun Peiran, whose spiritual root is the Wind Spiritual Root, which is quite good as well. But who would have thought that his younger brother possesses the Chaotic Heavenly Spiritual Root?

Such a legendary top-tier spiritual root, yet Yun Zhuoran’s cultivation level is…

“Aren’t you also just at the Golden Core stage?” Yun Zhuoran ignores the doubtful looks from everyone in the lobby, except for Lu Qi, who is filled with disdain for the waste of natural resources, and turns around to go upstairs with his heart demon.

Li Jianming exclaims and follows him.

Downstairs, Lu Qi and the others breathe a sigh of relief at the same time; it is finally quiet.

Li Jianming climbs the stairs behind Yun Zhuoran, noisily saying, “Can I go with you? We sword cultivators have different methods of cultivation, and we need to fight more to increase our skills. How about you spar with me?”

Who was it that just said they wouldn’t fight today? With this loudmouth left downstairs, who knows how many people he will attract to proclaim his extraordinary talent to? Yun Zhuoran thinks for a moment and decides to take him back to his room.

Yun Zhuoran sits down by the window and flips through the scriptures on the table. Li Jianming starts complaining about being bored. Yun Zhuoran wants to throw him out, but from his previous experience with him, he knows that Li Jianming will just scratch at the door and make a fuss unless he opens a barrier to isolate the outside sounds and images.

Over the years, it is not only Yun Zhuoran who has grown; Li Jianming has not lagged behind.

The cultivation of the Sword Immortal is slightly weaker than that of the Penglai Immortal, ranking fourth among the Immortals, having been stuck at the peak of the Great Ascension stage for two hundred years. However, around the time Gu Shenshu fell, he has always been a great figure among the four major sects. A disciple trained by such a powerful character cannot be underestimated.

Li Jianming, unable to keep quiet, sits opposite Yun Zhuoran and chats incessantly, telling him how many people have come this time. He arrives relatively early and has roughly figured out which cultivators from the various sects are present.

The Ten Thousand Immortals Conference is arranged after the training in the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest, with representatives from each faction arriving at Xingyun City to prepare. Among the four major sects, Kunwu Sword Sect is represented by its foremost disciple, Pei Heng, who is also Li Jianming’s senior brother. Ling Mountain Sect is represented by its senior sister, Luo Ying, and Tiandao Sect sends Shen Lingshu.

Tianqing Sect arrives at noon today; Li Jianming hasn’t gotten any information about them yet, but he believes the Buddhist Son won’t come. After all, as the Buddhist Son, it is unlikely he would attend such minor training, at most showing up during the official start of the Ten Thousand Immortals Conference. As for the several immortal families from Shengjing, Li Jianming clearly does not want to mention them.

Yun Zhuoran heard of Pei Heng and Luo Ying from his early years. They are of the same generation as Shen Lingshu, and their cultivation levels are basically on par with his, though they are slightly weaker, likely in the early to middle stages of the Nascent Soul Stage.

“Why didn’t your little sidekick come as well?” Li Jianming changes the topic swiftly, cupping his face as he asks, “Five years ago, when Bai Bai formed his Golden Core, I even sent him a congratulatory gift, but then he suddenly started ignoring me for no reason.”

He refers to Jiang Zhibai. Probably both of them have no ill intentions; Li Jianming gets along well with Jiang Zhibai during the six months he studies at the Tiandao Sect and keeps in touch afterward, but how would Yun Zhuoran know?

“I sent him a sword mold that I personally forge, a whole box! We often practice swordsmanship together. Isn’t it wasteful? So, I gave him a whole box. Wasn’t that thoughtful enough?” As Li Jianming speaks, he rolls up his sleeves, clenches his fist, and flexes his well-defined arm muscles, saying, “Look, this is the result of my three years of blacksmithing!”

Yun Zhuoran remains silent, thinking that Li Jianming is indeed Li Jianming for giving Jiang Zhibai a box of sword blanks. But how could Jiang Zhibai possibly be a blacksmith?

In Jiang Zhibai’s eyes, it would likely be seen as scrap metal; it would be better to give him a sword he makes himself…

Li Jianming looks troubled for a moment, then notices a black ball sticking out from under Yun Zhuoran’s sleeve. He pokes it with a finger.

“Hey, is this your spirit pet?”

The malevolent aura surrounding the heart demon is sealed by a barrier, covered with a layer of faint spiritual energy.

Li Jianming feels a bit strange. “So black, so soft, it looks kind of ugly…”

Hearing this, the heart demon, uncomfortable from being poked, glares with its small black eyes. Just as Li Jianming’s finger comes poking again, it suddenly opens its mouth.

“Ah ah, Yun Zhuoran, it bit me!”

Yun Zhuoran: “…”

As dusk falls, the sunset casts its afterglow over the land.

Li Jianming is a very persistent person; he has always wanted to defeat Yun Zhuoran to redeem himself. He stubbornly pesters Yun Zhuoran in his room for a whole day, without even taking a sip of water, yet his voice remains clear and loud. However, his index finger is bitten and swollen. Fortunately, the heart demon is just venting its anger and hasn’t truly bitten off his finger, so after a while, the swelling on Li Jianming’s finger subsides.

Someone lights the lantern in front of the inn, and the orange-yellow warm light reflects in Yun Zhuoran’s black eyes.

Li Jianming leans tiredly against the window sill. “Is the welcome banquet at the city lord’s manor really that delicious? Why hasn’t my senior brother come back yet?”

Yun Zhuoran turns to the last page of the Pure and Tranquil Sutra. He closes his somewhat dry eyes, shifts his gaze to the window, and quietly extends his consciousness, detecting a familiar presence in the distance from the inn.

“Here they come,” Yun Zhuoran says.

“Ah?”

Li Jianming, without any suspicion, leans out from the second-floor window. After waiting for a moment, he finally spots a few figures around the street corner and turns back to tug at Yun Zhuoran.

“Look at that person!”

Yun Zhuoran looks over.

Shen Lingshu and Qin Zheng walk side by side, happily chatting with their fellow disciples. They arrive in front of the inn, but Li Jianming isn’t referring to his senior brother walking with them. He points to the person who has just stopped Shen Lingshu in front of the door.

The group is dressed in bright red Taoist robes made of misty gauze, embroidered with snow-white patterns that resemble flower branches interspersed on the sleeves. The vibrant colors give them a fairy-like aura. There are two boys and two girls, each one adorned with exquisite hair accessories and beautiful dresses. The most eye-catching figure is the man in a wheelchair at the front.

He has extremely pale skin, appearing a bit frail, with bright peach-colored eyes full of tenderness. A line of crimson cinnabar under his eyelids accentuates his paleness, giving him a delicate and beautiful face. He lazily leans against his wheelchair, his dazzling vermilion robe embroidered with a cluster of enchanting jade branches that gradually fade to purple at the corners.

Seeing the man’s face clearly, Li Jianming slaps Yun Zhuoran’s arm with excitement. “Penglai! He’s from Penglai Immortal Palace! I thought it was just a joke, but I didn’t expect it to be true! He is a Penglai Immortal!”

Under Gu Shenshu, the former most powerful immortal, the Penglai Immortal is as famous as Yun Peiran!

Yun Zhuoran remains indifferent, gazing down at the scene below.

Li Jianming covers his mouth with both hands, fearing his excitement might disturb those downstairs. However, his voice still can’t hide his thrill. “I heard last night that someone from Penglai is staying at the inn across the street, but I don’t believe it. Everyone knows that Penglai Island is far overseas, and the Penglai immortals have been famous for three hundred years, appearing only in rumors and never leaving Penglai. So I don’t believe it… I don’t expect it to be true! For such a small experience, an immortal from Penglai actually comes personally!”

Downstairs, the Penglai Immortal and Qin Zheng whisper something, suddenly laughing, which makes the cinnabar eyeliner on their pale faces stand out even more. Shen Lingshu stands nearby, his smile gentle but slightly perfunctory.

Yun Zhuoran’s gaze never leaves the man in the wheelchair, though his expression turned somewhat cold.

Li Jianming feels an inexplicable chill in his arm and instinctively rubs it, then continues his train of thought. “Do all the people from Penglai dress so flamboyantly? Hey, Yun Zhuoran, I think you’d fit right in with them. If you were to throw on a similar outfit and stand with them, others would probably think you’re from Penglai.”

Yun Zhuoran looks at him with a strange expression.

Li Jianming continues in a serious tone, “Your clothes have similar colors.”

Yun Zhuoran remains silent; one is red and the other is white—surely anyone with common sense can see they are different, right?

At that moment, a voice comes from below the window, laced with a hint of laughter and a slightly soft tone.

“Is the little friend up there watching me?”

Li Jianming quickly covers his face. He has been discovered!

Yun Zhuoran remains calm as ever. He glances at Li Jianming briefly before turning his attention back to the people downstairs.

Downstairs, the Penglai immortal rests his chin on his hand, tilting his pale yet strikingly beautiful face upward to look at him, a smile dancing in his peach blossom eyes. “Tsk, what a pretty little friend you are; you would fit right in with our Penglai.”