爷爷

The elder and Zun escorted Yan back together. When they reached the frontier of the Chaos Universe, Zun stopped and remained on guard, leaving the final stretch to the elder. According to the elder, Zun was the helmsman of the 'Heavenly Dao' universe, a World Realm cultivator. He was considered a standard top-tier combatant within this world.

He also told Yan that their Chaos Universe was different from the others. Its essence was actually a mutated tumor, later forcibly reversed by a Quasi-World expert using the Entropy Reduction Art. Therefore, many materials from other universes couldn't exist here for long. To them, even many inconspicuous little things here could be deadly. Coupled with the 'Heavenly Dao's deliberate protection, not many people from other universes would come here.

After Yan's spirit returned to his body, he fell unconscious for a time. The elder helped Yan clear his meridians, procured a heap of heavenly and earthly treasures from somewhere, and refined them into pills for Yan based on their medicinal properties. Sometimes, he'd concoct medicinal baths and simply throw Yan in to stew. It looked brutal, but it quickly helped Yan's physique adapt to his rapidly growing spirit power. He adapted significantly within just a few days.

"Senior... senior..." Yan mumbled hazily, watching the elder bustling about. He felt a warmth in his heart, but also a trace of alarm. Especially seeing the elder's advanced age, he suddenly thought of novels where great powers nearing the end of their lifespan would find promising juniors, nurture them with all their might, all to prepare for possession later. A chill ran down his spine.

"Hey! Kid, don't you recognize your own maternal grandfather? Didn't your mother ever show you a memory crystal of your grandfather?" Not receiving a response from Yan, the elder kept working with his hands, but an inexplicable anger surfaced. "Hmph! That ungrateful daughter I raised my whole life! Couldn't even have her child acknowledge his grandfather!"

"You... how dare you speak of my mother like that! Where were you when she died? You call yourself my grandfather, so why are you always absent at the critical moments!" Yan's speech was still slurred, but even in his muddled state, his words held no concession.

"Wasn't your grandfather there when you comprehended the Dao?" The elder's momentum clearly weakened, but he stubbornly refused to back down.

"Then... then why, why couldn't you...!" Yan tried to speak again, but found his eyelids growing unbearably heavy. Before he could finish, he fell back into a deep sleep.

The elder fell silent. He checked Yan's pulse, confirming he'd only fainted due to his body still adapting, and sighed in relief. His gaze toward Yan was filled with guilt. He said nothing, only sighed.

For several days straight, the elder didn't sleep a wink. He handled everything personally, not daring to use magic, afraid he might miss some rejection or adverse reaction in Yan that could damage his foundation.

"The heart of a parent knows no rest; caring for the grown child, now the young one! This old man's life isn't easy!" The elder seized a rare moment to catch his breath, complaining to the sky. His wrinkles became starkly clear in the light. Hearing Yan cough, he immediately rushed over to check.

Several more days passed like this before Yan finally awoke. However, his spirit was now too powerful, making it difficult to control his own body. He could only lie paralyzed on the bed, cared for by his grandfather.

Under the elder's guidance, Yan first focused on feeling every strand of muscle, every cell in his body. Then, starting small and expanding from points to surfaces, he gradually widened his range of control. Eventually, he could move, albeit very awkwardly.

Afterwards, with the meticulous guidance of his grandfather, who had walked this path before, Yan soon regained full mobility. In ways he couldn't perceive, his physical body also grew stronger and stronger.

Afterwards, the elder sent out a few puppets to test Yan's cultivation, only to find the spells he'd learned were too monotonous, lacking versatility. He then began teaching Yan techniques, but while Yan grasped all the theory, his practical application was utterly useless, making the elder stamp his feet in frustration. One day, after calming down, the elder had a thought: perhaps it was a problem with his spiritual roots. Hard as it was to believe, he called Yan over for a test—the results were… mixed.

The elder fell silent, merely shaking his head repeatedly with sighs.

"I suspected your comprehension might not match your father's, I suspected my own teaching was lacking, I even suspected you could only cast spells through a single pathway. But I never expected the Nine Reincarnations Art to have this side effect!" The elder sighed again and again, which was, in a way, an admission of his earlier oversight.

"Fortunately, you still possess a Wind spiritual root—and a supreme-grade heavenly one at that, comparable to my own granddaughter's. Speaking of her, she…" The elder was holding Yan's wrist, smiling, when his expression suddenly froze. He looked at Yan's clear-eyed gaze, then thought of Zun mentioning Yan's damaged spirit. Clenching his fist and gritting his teeth, he gave a helpless smile and shook his head. "Fine! Let's awaken the memories of wind techniques within you!" He couldn't bring himself to be angry or furious; they were both his own flesh and blood, so he could only laugh it off.

Next came the training in wind techniques. Thanks to his spiritual root and innate comprehension, Yan could master nearly everything after seeing it just once. The elder nodded, though he should have been pleased and full of praise. Instead, his feelings were now a tangled mix.

The elder's training grew increasingly stringent, only letting up when he could find no further faults and Yan had fully recovered. Before departing, he visited the old dean to discuss some matters, then returned to the Wind Clan.

Instead of rushing to cultivate the next technique, Yan first sought out the old dean to ask a few questions. Afterwards, he approached Lian Fulan, requesting that she take him to the Imperial City of the Heterodox Clan.

Lian Fulan initially refused. The military camp was already rife with gossip about her. If she suddenly brought back a male fellow disciple, who knew what new troubles might arise? It could very well leave her mortified, wishing the ground would swallow her up.

But she couldn't withstand Yan's relentless, pleading persistence. He stuck to her all day, and worse yet, he had learned some art that made him impossible to avoid—more clingy than a plaster. Unable to bear it, she finally agreed to Yan's request, though she had to wait a while. The moment she consented, she immediately felt relieved.

Yan then returned to the cave dwelling where Grand Patriarch Bodhi resided. It was empty, with only a large stone in the center. Yan didn't pay it much mind, instead proceeding to lay out all his deductions.

"Master, you said my memory is lost. Zun and the others said the same, and even my grandfather agrees. It seems there's no dispute about that.

Grandfather's techniques seem like those of the Wind Clan. Judging by his cultivation, he's at minimum some ancient monster-level existence. Then he said he raised my mother her whole life—that statement is a bit strange. For one, it's possible Mother was adopted. Him directly cursing her as a 'son of a bitch' could support that. But it could also simply be discontent, just him complaining. This disciple cannot be sure.

Also, among the belongings my elder brother Cisheng sorted after Mother's death, there was a strip of cloth and a set of tattered clothing. The texture didn't seem like mourning attire, and the style looked like something for an eight- or nine-year-old. One could faintly make out the character 'Su' on it. I don't yet know whose it was, but based on the quality, it likely belonged to a disciple of some great clan. Combined with that embroidered character, I suspect they were a descendant of the Heterodox Clan's royal family.

Oh, right, there was also a scent pouch. Mother worked hard daily; this pouch could refresh the spirit, so it was probably hers. However, the brocade material truly didn't seem like something she could afford. But if Grandfather's status was eminent, and if Mother truly was his daughter, then even if she had cut ties with him, it would still make sense for her to have it."

You also mentioned that this junior's memories might recover as my cultivation grows. That day while cultivating the art you bestowed, I saw the Heterodox Clan's Imperial City and felt an inexplicable familiarity with the place. Perhaps the truth lies there. However, piecing these clues together feels awkward; my deductions might be flawed. Thus, I wish to go to the Imperial City to investigate, and I wanted to ask you, Master, whether I should bring this set of clothing and that scent pouch..."

Immediately after, Yan took out two copper coins, cast them three times, and received a negative answer. He then put away those two items and left at ease.