32: Chapter 32 The Death of Su Cheng: A Parent's Farewell to Their Child

Time flew by like a white horse passing a crevice.

In the blink of an eye, thirty full years had passed since Su Yu failed his Foundation Establishment.

Inside Black Wind Valley, the autumn wind was desolate, and fallen leaves lay silent.

Hidden Dragon Manor, once hidden and dormant, had expanded several times over after thirty years of growth and reproduction.

Among the third and fourth generations of descendants, children gifted with Spirit Roots were born one after another. Although most were of low grade, they filled the entire villa with vibrant life.

Eighty-year-old Su Yu wore a simple, wide robe and sat quietly on a bluestone by the lake, fishing.

Time had not left many traces of weathering on his face.

Thanks to his Ninth Layer of Qi Refining cultivation and the nourishment of the extremely pure True Essence within his body.

Although his hair was as white as snow, his face remained that of a man in his thirties or forties; white-haired and youthful-faced, his presence was as deep as an abyss.

However, while cultivators could resist the erosion of time, Mortal could not.

"Father."

A slightly heavy sound of footsteps came from behind him.

Fifty-nine-year-old Su Yuan walked behind the bluestone and bowed respectfully.

Time had added a few fine lines to the corners of Su Yuan's eyes, but the fluctuations of magical power around his body had become increasingly unfathomable; he had actually reached the Ninth Layer of Qi Refining!

"Eldest Brother... he is not going to make it."

Su Yuan's voice was slightly hoarse, revealing a hint of sorrow that was difficult to conceal.

Su Yu's hand holding the fishing rod paused slightly, and the float on the lake surface rippled with an extremely faint ring.

He did not speak, simply pulling in his fishing rod slowly, standing up, and walking towards the front courtyard.

Inside the main residence, a heavy scent of medicinal soup permeated the air.

The room was filled with the wives, concubines, and descendants of Su Cheng's lineage.

On the bed, sixty-one-year-old Su Cheng looked withered and gaunt, his eyes deeply sunken.

As a Mortal without a Spirit Root, even though he had been taught martial arts by Su Yu in his early years, forging a body of copper skin and iron bones.

But for most of his life, he had fought amidst the blade-glint and sword-shadows of Dingzhou City, and schemed within the deceitful machinations of Dingyuan Trading Firm.

To set up the dark network for the villa, and to launder those blood-stained cultivation resources, he had exhausted too much of his heart and energy.

The foundations he had overdrawn in his youth transformed into an irreversible decline in vitality and blood in his old age.

He was at the end of his rope.

By the bedside, a burly middle-aged man was kneeling.

That was Su Yu's third son, Third Son Su Lin.

He was also a Mortal without a Spirit Root.

Su Cheng tremblingly extended a hand like withered wood, placing two tokens engraved with dark patterns solemnly into the hands of his third brother, Third Son Su Lin.

"Third Brother..."

Su Cheng's voice was extremely weak, yet it carried an unquestionable lingering authority.

"The general ledger of Dingyuan Trading Firm, as well as the roster of the dark network's death soldiers, are handed over to you today."

"Remember my words: the cultivating descendants should practice with peace of mind inside the villa; they must never be allowed to touch secular industries."

"Secular wealth and slaughter can only be controlled by us Mortal. This is the rule set by Father, and it is also to ensure that those cultivators are not blinded by worldly power..."

Even at the very last moment of his life.

This eldest son, who had labored his whole life for Hidden Dragon Manor, still had the family's secular affairs on his mind.

Third Son Su Lin held the tokens with both hands, his eyes red, unable to stop his weeping.

"Rest assured, Eldest Brother, I will definitely guard the foundation in Dingzhou City with my life."

Using Mortal to control Mortal industries, using secular wealth to feed back into the villa's cultivators, while simultaneously forming a system of checks and balances within the family.

This was the family power structure that Su Cheng and Su Yu had established together over the thirty years he had been in power.

Just then, a very light sound of footsteps came from outside the door.

The female relatives and descendants who had been sobbing quietly in the room immediately fell silent and respectfully stepped aside.

Su Yu walked slowly into the room.

Looking at his eldest son on the bed, who had once been decisive in the secular world but now struggled even to lift a hand, a flicker of complex emotion passed through Su Yu's eyes.

The elderly burying the young.

The cruelest parting of life and death had arrived silently at this moment.

"Father..."

Seeing Su Yu, the previously unfocused eyes of Su Cheng suddenly regained a glimmer of vitality.

He struggled to sit up to pay his respects, but was pressed down by Su Yu on his shoulder.

"Just lie down."

Su Yu sat down on a round stool by the bed, his voice calm and gentle.

The people in the room very tactfully retreated, leaving only the father and son.

Su Cheng looked at his father before him, who had white hair and a youthful face, like an immortal, and then looked at his own body, withered like a piece of dead wood.

A trace of extremely hidden inferiority flashed across his murky eyes.

He tried his best to hide this trace of inferiority, unwilling to show any sign of fawning weakness before his father, who was like a banished immortal.

Because he was the eldest son of the main branch; even if he was a Mortal without a Spirit Root, he did not need his father's pity or comfort.

Su Cheng's shriveled Adam's apple rolled with difficulty as he forced a stiff smile, attempting to cover up his crumbling self-esteem by discussing family affairs.

"Father... the dark lines and death soldiers of Dingyuan Trading Firm have all been handed over to Third Son Su Lin."

"The secular income... is very stable. As long as the trade routes remain, the cultivating descendants in the villa will never run out of pills..."

He spoke intermittently, as if only by constantly emphasizing his value in the secular world could he justify his life.

Su Yu listened quietly.

Having lived for two hundred years and experienced the ups and downs of two lifetimes, his insight into human nature was incredibly sharp.

He didn't need Su Cheng to speak; he had already read the unspoken words hidden for a lifetime beneath his eldest son's forced composure.

Su Cheng was afraid.

He was afraid that in the eyes of cultivators, his humble struggle in the secular world of blades and blood was merely the mundane labor of a Mortal, not worth mentioning.

He was even more afraid of seeing even the slightest trace of pity in his father's eyes.

Su Yu did not interrupt him, simply reaching out and naturally taking hold of Su Cheng's withered, stick-like hand.

"Cheng'er."

Su Yu's voice was not loud, yet it carried the power to smooth over all waves.

"You don't have to force yourself anymore."

Su Cheng's voice stopped abruptly, his murky pupils trembling slightly.

He subconsciously wanted to pull his hand back, but it was held firmly by Su Yu.

"Do you think that because you have no Spirit Root, this life of yours is just that of a forgettable secular shopkeeper on the family's path to immortality?"

Su Yu looked into Su Cheng's eyes, his tone devoid of any condescending pity, containing only the purest affirmation.

"For Hidden Dragon Manor to be where it is today—the spirit stones, the pills, the arrays, even Su Yuan and the others being able to sit in the Spirit Gathering Array to practice breath circulation."

"Every inch of this foundation, every breath of spiritual energy, was fought for by you with a Mortal's flesh and blood, through every blade and gun in the quagmire of the secular world."

"Those hot potatoes I brought out back then—if you hadn't laundered them in Dingzhou City with your Mortal body, Hidden Dragon Manor would have been destroyed countless times over."

Hearing these words, Su Cheng's shriveled chest began to heave violently.

He gritted his teeth, wanting to maintain the dignity of the eldest son, but the mist in his eyes could not be suppressed no matter what.

"Without your Mortal body as a stepping stone, the Su Family's path to immortality would not have reached today."

Su Yu gazed at him, giving the most profound evaluation of his life.

"You are the son I, Su Tian, am most proud of in this life; no one can replace you."

The moment this sentence fell.

The armor of self-esteem that Su Cheng had struggled to support his whole life completely melted away like ice and snow.

Two lines of murky old tears slid down his cheeks, landing on the pillow.

That was the recognition he had most craved and most feared he would never receive in his entire life.

All the inferiority, all the reluctance, and the endless exhaustion brought by scheming and killing in the secular world found true redemption at this moment.

"Thank you... Father."

Su Cheng held Su Yu's hand back.

The corners of his mouth curled upward with great effort, outlining a smile of relief and satisfaction.

Subsequently, that withered hand fell powerlessly.

Sixty-nine-year-old Su Cheng closed his eyes with a smile.

Su Yu sat quietly before the bed, watching his eldest son's peaceful face.

After a long time, he slowly stood up and pushed open the door.

"Prepare for the funeral."

Two days later.

Inside and outside Hidden Dragon Manor, white funeral banners were hung everywhere.

The mourning hall was set up in the very heart of the villa's main hall.

A high-quality golden-threaded nanmu coffin rested in the center.

Su Yu did not wear his cultivator's robes, but had changed into plain mourning clothes, sitting alone before the coffin.

He did not allow anyone to come in to offer condolences, simply carrying two jars of the strongest secular burning-knife liquor, sitting on a meditation cushion.

One bowl offered to heaven and earth, one bowl offered to his eldest son.

He drank for the entire night.

In Su Yu's mind, images of Su Cheng's life flashed by.

The stubbornness of practicing horse stance in the courtyard at age six.

The decisiveness of going down the mountain at eighteen and establishing a name alone in Dingzhou City.

The ruthlessness at age thirty, using secular death soldiers to pile up and kill the Zhao Family's prodigy, resolving a great disaster for the villa.

A Mortal's life is but a mere few decades.

In the eyes of a cultivator, it is but the time of a single long seclusion.

But Su Cheng's life burned as brilliantly as a shooting star, using Mortal flesh and blood to forcibly pave a smooth, broad road for his cultivating clansmen.

The next day.

Outside the mourning hall, hundreds of descendants and managers from all over the villa knelt on the ground in unison.

With the eldest son's grand funeral, the whole clan donned hemp and mourning clothes.

According to the rules, all descendants within the villa, whether Mortal or cultivator, were required to kneel and keep vigil before the spirit tablet.

However, on a meditation cushion to the left of the mourning hall.

A few young juniors from the fourth generation who possessed Spirit Roots and had already stepped into the early stage of Qi Refining, although kneeling on the ground, wore expressions that revealed a hint of impatience.

"I really don't understand; Great Uncle is just a Mortal without even magical power. Why must we cultivating descendants stop our evening lessons to kneel and keep vigil?"

A twelve or thirteen-year-old boy who had tested with a Rank 8 Spirit Root complained in a low voice, his eyes carrying a kind of natural arrogance belonging to cultivators.

"Exactly. A Mortal's lifespan is but seventy years; birth, aging, illness, and death are normal. Making such a huge fuss just delays our time for breathing in spiritual energy."

The few cultivating juniors nearby also nodded in agreement.

In the understanding they had accepted since birth, they possessed Spirit Roots and were high and mighty.

Those Mortal relatives who farmed and did odd jobs were merely ants relying on them for survival.

Although these mutterings were faint, in the silence of the hall, they sounded exceptionally grating.

Su Yuan's face darkened, and he was just about to shout a rebuke.

"Bang!"

The wooden door of the mourning hall opened without wind.

Su Yu, dressed in plain mourning clothes, walked slowly into the mourning hall.

He did not look at those young juniors whose faces changed slightly, but walked straight to Su Cheng's spirit tablet and personally lit a stick of incense.

The incense smoke rose in curls.

Su Yu turned around.

"Hum—"

A terrifying pressure of the Ninth Layer of Qi Refining, like a substantial Mount Tai, crashed down upon the entire mourning hall.

Those few cultivating juniors who had just been speaking insolently were instantly pressed to the ground by this pressure, their faces deathly pale, and even breathing became extremely difficult.

The mourning hall was deathly silent, everyone as quiet as a cicada in winter.

"Do you feel that keeping vigil for a Mortal elder demeans your status as cultivators?"

Su Yu's gaze swept coldly over those few fourth-generation descendants lying on the ground; his voice was not loud, but every word struck at the heart.

"The Spirit Gathering Pills you swallow daily—who exchanged secular industries, ounce of silver for ounce of blood, to get them?"

"While you breathe and practice peacefully in this array without asking about worldly affairs, who is it outside dealing with those blood-stained black market goods, blocking the open spears and hidden arrows of rogue cultivators for you?"

Su Yu walked down the steps, one step at a time.

"Without this Mortal lying in the coffin, you would have long ago become ghosts under someone else's sword; what qualifications do you have to talk about the nobility of the Immortal Path here!"

The few young juniors were scolded until they trembled all over, their eyes filled with fear and remorse.

"Su Yuan." Su Yu gave a cold shout.

"I am here." Su Yuan immediately stepped forward and knelt down.

"Carve these words into the ancestral precepts and announce them to the entire villa."

Su Yu stood in the center of the mourning hall, with an extremely absolute and unquestionable posture, setting down the core foundation for Hidden Dragon Manor to pass down for a hundred generations.

"In my Su Family, regardless of Spirit Root grade, regardless of whether one is a Mortal or a cultivator, we only recognize human ethics and seniority."

"Mortal offer resources, cultivators protect the family; of the same clan and origin, our status is absolutely equal."

"In the future, if any cultivating descendants dare to treat Mortal elders with contempt because of their cultivation, or act arrogantly..."

A flash of murderous intent passed through Su Yu's eyes.

"Their cultivation will be crippled on the spot, they will be expelled from the villa, and their life or death will be of no concern!"

The iron law was established.

Those Mortal clansmen who had originally felt a bit self-deprecating in their hearts all had reddened eyes, burying their heads deeply into the ground.