Chapter 10: Don

“Didn’t you hear?”

Ruan Lu’s voice grew stern.

“I heard.” Ruan Liuzheng shuddered and quickly replied, under her mother’s gaze, repeating: “He Chen is my brother…”

She felt it was all too strange.

What nonsense about the family’s pillar… To her, a teenager in puberty, He Chen—a schoolwide idol—constantly flashed before her eyes; how could she not have quietly planted seeds in her heart, nurturing fantasies?

After all, she and He Chen had no actual sibling bond, not even a nominal one; two teenagers of the same age, him handsome, her pretty—some daydreams were only natural.

He Chen wasn’t some relative’s kid like her; he was just a child of a deceased friend—why should she care so much?

If her mother treated He Chen as her future son-in-law, the only male in the house, elevated as the family’s pillar, that would be understandable.

But her mother’s actions constantly warned her, conveying outright disapproval of any possibility of deeper connection between her and He Chen.

No!

Not just disapproval—she was firmly opposed.

That was very strange.

Her mother admired him so much; she and he were perfectly matched in looks and talent, both about to turn eighteen—surely, even with senior year and academics as priority, there was no need for such strict guarding.

At least leave a crack, offer some hope.

Otherwise, once the Gaokao ends and everyone scatters to different universities, facing a sea of beauties from all corners of the land, what advantage will she have?

She didn’t even need to wait until college.

Just look around Chunfeng Middle School: her figure couldn’t match Qiu Ya’s allure, nor could she sing or dance like Deng Xiaoqi, who was preparing for the arts exam—talented and captivating.

She wasn’t even as vibrant and lively as Lin Miaomiao.

This was just a passing mention—Chunfeng Middle School was full of hidden dragons and tigers; outstanding girls were countless.

Otherwise, how could the title of campus beauty remain unclaimed, turning into a joke where ten or so girls were all called “campus beauty”?

If not looks or figure, then maybe academic performance?

Her grades were decent, but nowhere near rivals like her desk partner Xia Xue, Qiao Yingzi from the next class, or Huang Zhitao—those top female scholars.

In every aspect, she was merely above average; to He Chen, whose looks ranked first and who could pick from countless beauties, she was utterly ordinary and unremarkable.

If there really was a “don’t let the rich water flow to someone else’s field” mindset, aside from her identity as an adopted sister allowing daily closeness to cultivate feelings, she had zero core competitiveness.

So she truly couldn’t figure out what her mother was thinking.

And she couldn’t very well ask…

Leaving Ruan Liuzheng’s distress aside, He Chen returned home after finishing his Immortal Crane Gong under the pine tree, satisfied.

Under eighteen, everything was illusion.

Only Immortal Crane Lifespan and Turtle Longevity were real.

Honestly, the fulfillment and growth from cultivation far surpassed any romantic entanglement in his eyes.

This was just cultivation—imagine the ecstasy if he truly entered xianxia.

No wonder those who cultivated immortality felt no loneliness or boredom sitting in remote mountains for centuries or millennia.

After chatting briefly with Aunt Ruan upon returning home, he went to his room to read.

He and Ruan Liuzheng weren’t in the same class because his grades had once been far worse than hers—she was in the top science class, while he was in an average parallel class.

There was no helping it; whether in his past life or now, he’d always been a steadfast “middle pillar”—perpetually stuck in mediocrity.

But now it was different.

After developing a bit of Immortal Crane Lifespan and Turtle Longevity, his senses sharpened and his IQ improved, especially during Turtle Breathing practice.

If he didn’t seize this chance to boost his grades and aim for a top university, wouldn’t that be wasting a golden opportunity?

Now, with Aunt Ruan—a renowned professor—he could live off her soft meal, so he devoted himself entirely to his supernatural abilities, and the rest to studying.

As for the most crucial aspect of reincarnation—making money—he’d temporarily set it aside.

Even when practicing Immortal Crane Gong, he sought a pine tree to mimic its essence; he’d never follow Emperor Jiajing’s mistake and turn his practice into a laughingstock.

Emperor Jiajing practiced both Immortal Crane Gong and Turtle Breathing—so why couldn’t he achieve Immortal Crane Lifespan and Turtle Longevity?

Aside from damaging his body with pills, surely it was also because he was obsessed with scheming: as Emperor of Great Ming, he claimed he didn’t work or clock in, yet in secret he was the Minister of Revenue himself, constantly calculating money, money, money, thinking “all this is mine,” utterly obsessed with wealth—could such a mind ever align with the Dao of longevity?

Mental exhaustion ages you.

He Chen had only three months to turn Immortal Crane Lifespan and Turtle Longevity into a permanent innate ability, so he naturally couldn’t care about money.

Once the Dao Master achieved his goal, with ample lifespan, everything he needed would come naturally—no rush at all.

To put it bluntly, those who exhaust themselves earning money and die young—every drop of blood and sweat they earned ends up in the hands of their wives, children, and those who live longer.

Why bother?

Therefore, body and lifespan are fundamental!

Everything else is illusion!

With this mindset, He Chen immersed himself in the positive cycle of studying, content and joyful—until Aunt Ruan called them for dinner, and he stepped out to find night fully fallen.

The three ate dinner, then returned to their rooms.

He Chen was the first to gather his clothes and headed to the bathroom to shower.

Over the past year of living together with these two unrelated beauties, big and small, the habits had long formed.

For example, he always showered first.

To avoid walking in and seeing colorful, white, black, large, small private items that might disturb his Dao heart.

Though it was merely closing one’s ears to steal a bell—living under the same roof, laundry couldn’t be fully avoided—but at least it avoided the awkwardness of “suspicious circumstances.”

After showering, He Chen entered his bedroom, studied for another hour, and at precisely nine p.m., put down his book, undressed, got into bed, and assumed the side-prone resting posture, beginning Turtle Breathing to sleep.

“Wild man sleeps in the immortal’s cave; midnight southern stars glow over the water realm… Sitting in oblivion, day and moon entwine with Turtle Breathing; laughing, pointing to heaven and earth entering a birdcage.”

Every time he entered deep Turtle Breathing, he communed with sun and moon, accompanied by the cosmos—his mind filled with stars and seas—could his IQ and computational power not surge?

When Ruan Liuzheng finished a set of practice papers and peeked into He Chen’s room, she found the light already off, and pouted.

Her grades were far better than his; she was in the top science class—but she’d earned it through grueling effort, unlike He Chen’s easygoing comfort.

What made it harder for her to bear was her dream—or rather, her mother’s expectation—that she become a doctor.

Studying medicine was grueling; even if not lifelong, after the Gaokao, another eight to ten years of study was no joke.

Yet despite the sting of comparison, she still tiptoed into the bathroom to shower, afraid of making noise and drawing her mother’s scolding for disturbing He Chen’s rest.

It was only nine p.m.!!!

Many people’s nights had barely begun, yet He Chen was already asleep—anyone unaware would think he was some health-obsessed old man!

With these inner complaints, Ruan Liuzheng finished her shower, returned to her room, and, riding the refreshed clarity from the bath, had to grimly tackle more practice papers.

Yes!

At the start of the term—even before the official opening, before the Gaokao mobilization meeting—she had already plunged herself into senior year hell.

It wasn’t that she liked it.

It was that she didn’t want to disappoint her mother.