Chapter 562

(No Chinese characters present; punctuation only.)

"Master Zhang, rest assured—I often crash meals at the big shots' places; stick with me, it's just one more pair of chopsticks."

Zhang Chu'ar patted his chest, with Feng Baobao eagerly following behind him, and the Old Heavenly Master looking deeply troubled.

"Chu'ar," Zhang Zhiwei said slowly, "I've always known you're a child destined for great things—but can we make a deal?"

"What deal? Master, we're family—don't be so formal," Zhang Chu'ar said, holding up the Cross-World Rune.

The Old Heavenly Master said, "Our world's not worth swallowing—why not leave it to you?"

Zhang Chu'ar stopped in his tracks, helplessly scratching the back of his head, his teeth aching.

"Master, why are you still bringing this up? That was just a movie."

"Even the Ancestor has fallen into demonic corruption—do you think I'm blind?"

Zhang Zhiwei sighed softly: "Just accept what's written on the Cross-World Communion Rune—say if anything goes wrong, you open a backdoor for us."

"Hah."

A few years ago, even if they'd killed him, Zhang Chu'ar never imagined he'd hear the Old Heavenly Master asking him for a backdoor.

But why did he feel no pride, no swelling ego—just this faint sadness and melancholy?

"Zhang Chu'ar, is the Cosmic Source tasty?" Feng Baobao leaned over from behind, drooling. "Share a bit so I can taste it?"

He'd only appeared briefly during filming, yet forum "Devour Scholars" and "Reverse-Side Scholars" had analyzed every frame and dug him out.

Even a servant from Chaldea had leaked online that it was this very man who opened the ritual to summon the Supreme Heavenly Sovereign down from the Immortal Realm.

Zhang Chu'ar, who thought he'd been low-key enough, now bore a steel-stamped label: "Villain."

Absolutely terrible.

"Go away—I didn't even get many, and I gave some away to settle debts."

Zhang Chu'ar pushed Feng Baobao aside, then smiled ingratiatingly: "Master, believe me—I'd never harm my own family, right?"

He activated the Cross-World Rune and stepped forward first.

"Look at the aesthetic here."

Zhang Chu'ar turned back and walked in: "How could this possibly be demonic evil?"

Plop!

A drop of scalding liquid struck Zhang Chu'ar—he turned slowly, and before him, everything turned crimson.

Blood splattered everywhere, raining down like drops, mixed with the cries of collapsing souls.

"Ow ow ow ow ow—!"

Song Shuhang's body split open with sudden gashes—each an inch deep, spewing forth liquefied "blood."

Tears streamed from Song Shuhang's eyes as he collapsed before Zhang Chu'ar, whose gaze was vacant and empty.

"I'm sorry—I'm so stupid, I made such a mess."

Zhang Chu'ar's eyelid twitched, but then a bloodcurdling scream pierced the air.

"I really don't know anything!" Kuang Dao Kuangdao Sanlang was tied to a table; beside him stood a delicate, beautiful boy holding a perfectly plated roasted chicken, his expression hesitant.

"I'm a staunch supporter of the Cross-World Devourers! This must be a bug in the Simulation Universe's program! Aaaah!" Kuang Dao Kuangdao Sanlang writhed like a caterpillar:

"I never expected the Confucian Sage summoned here would do this—I didn't mean to!"

"Dear Confucian Kuangdao Sanlang, there's no one else here," Su Lin took the dish from Huai Shi's hands and walked to Kuang Dao Kuangdao Sanlang, who trembled violently yet glowed with excitement:

"You don't think we forgot about you just because we didn't come looking these past few days, do you?"

"You're the primary contributor to this film project—how could we forget you?"

"So, please enjoy."

Overt malice spread like a solid force, fear so thick it congealed into liquid, mingling with black pepper sauce as it dripped onto the "lamb meat."

Winter descended, a chilling dread swept through—Kuang Dao Kuangdao Sanlang could no longer scream, only watch as the maliciously tender meat was lifted by fork and fed to his lips by Su Lin himself.

"Eat, Kuangdao Sanlang—this is your fate."

Su Lin cupped his chin, guiding his jaws open and shut so he chewed a few times.

Then he produced a stemmed glass filled with bubbling black liquid and poured it down the man's throat, gulp after gulp.

Desperate wailing and sobbing, clouds of black particles swirling, an overwhelming tide of malice—until all was still.

Su Lin nodded in satisfaction: "Thanks for the secondary processing."

"Nothing much," Huai Shi glanced at the takeout bag labeled "Spray Warrior Meal." "What did he ever do to you?"

If Weigong Shilang's path as a Cooking God was about bringing happiness and fulfillment through radiant cuisine, then Huai Shi's path as a Cooking Demon was the refinement of toxins, dark primordial matter, and nearly alchemical dark dishes.

A Spray Warrior Meal, after secondary processing by a Cooking Demon—what followed was obvious.

Huang Shan and White Zunzhe and others waiting nearby to collect the corpse all protested at once.

"Young friend, that's nonsense!"

"Never pity him!"

"We must not let Confucian honor be further tarnished!"

Huai Shi didn't understand—but he was deeply shaken.

How deeply sinful must one be to provoke such public outrage?

Su Lin returned the concave porcelain dish to Huai Shi and turned: "Chu'ar, what are you standing there for? Take the Old Heavenly Master and find him a seat."

Zhang Chu'ar and Zhang Zhiwei on the other side stood frozen, as if shrouded in shadow.

"I told you not to act—still wouldn't listen. Sigh."

He pulled the Azure Void Sword from Song Shuhang's arms, where it had been used in the Identification Secret Technique, then returned to his seat and resumed his conversation with Xiao Yan.

"To be fair, I have everyone's teaching check-in records from last year," Su Lin laid a sheet on the table:

"Zhongli Elder: 83 times, Weigong Elder: 0 times, Ye Fan Elder: -1 time for hiring Emperor Yufeng as a bodyguard, Han Li Elder: 65 times, Xiao Yan: Douchi Qi Stage 3—sorry, 3 times."

"Cultivation sects are like schools; our Tianyi Sect may be small, but it has all the essentials."

"Cultivation, cultivation techniques, artifact forging, pill refining, talisman inscription, combat skills—everyone has their role, but why do some subject teachers take sick leave every day?"

"This is clearly my job as the PE teacher!"

Especially Xiao Yan, who for all three sessions had basically relied on Yao Lao as a substitute teacher, learning alongside the disciples.

"Aren't you the principal?" Meng Qi remarked sarcastically.

"You have no right to speak!" Su Lin said bluntly: "By cultivation level, you're the vice-principal, and over there, Lu Mingfei is acting principal—none of you have ever shown up for class!"

At these words, everyone fell silent together.

Indeed, though the sect's founding was impulsive, when it came to teaching disciples, apart from Zhongli and Han Li, everyone shared some blame.

"On the Xuanzhou Continent, disciples casually switching sects is one of the greatest taboos."

Yan Sen thought for a moment, then smiled: "Though it's easy to enter Tianshen Sect, casually changing sects is still not advisable, Friend Xiao Yan—you should think carefully before contacting me."

Xiao Yan nodded, frowning as he propped his chin in thought.

Yang Jian and Fang Zheng, who had been quietly watching from the side, suddenly felt something was off.

"A school with God as principal and the Three Pure Ones as vice-principals?"

"Isn't that pretty prestigious?"

This was precisely what troubled Xiao Yan.

He himself didn't care, but Feng Xiaoxiao's future couldn't be taken lightly.

If this bunch actually got serious, Tianyi Sect's future potential would be top-tier among all realms—certainly no worse than Tianshen Sect!

Provided that this bunch

Actually had the words "serious" in them.

Moreover, sending Feng Xiaoxiao to Tianshen Sect like this did indeed damage the sect's and others' faces.

"I'll strive to become a Battle Emperor tomorrow, and then we'll all attend class every day—you too?" Xiao Yan looked at them skeptically.

Su Lin opened his mouth, stunned: "Huh?"

Meng Qi snapped back to reality: "Huh?"

Weigong Shilang, weak and listless, forced a smile: "Ah, another job added?"

". " Xiao Yan knew he shouldn't have expected anything from this bunch: "Then I leave it to you, Teacher Yan Sen."

Seeing Xiao Yan make his decision, Yan Sen raised his teacup with both hands, smiling as he offered a toast.

"I will teach them well."

"Thank you for your trouble."

Xiao Yan raised his cup in return with a relaxed smile.

Su Lin also raised his cup: "Thank you, Emperor Yufeng and Congniang."

Puff—!

Xiao Yan clutched his chest, clearly choked by the tea.

". " Yan Sen's movements stiffened; he set down his teacup, looking at Su Lin with a bewildered expression.

If another sect on the Xuanzhou Continent had secretly placed its disciples in Tianshen Sect, Yan Sen might have suspected a plot against his sect's legacy—but with Su Lin...

Yan Sen actually felt this man was serious.

"In that case... wouldn't Friend Su Dao's sect have no disciples left?" Yan Sen's expression turned peculiar: "Would your sect truly part with two disciples of such heavenly talent?"

Su Lin waved his hand generously, confidently saying:

"A wise bird chooses its tree to perch on; ancient legends say the phoenix rests only on the tung tree. If you cannot build a nest to attract the phoenix, then let it seek renewal and change—let the phoenix fly into the sky, to another place."

"Only then can the water remain fresh and new realms be opened."

This speech left everyone stunned, especially Xiao Yan—he hadn't expected this man to possess such insight when serious.

"If you were this insightful every day, it'd be great," Xiao Yan wiped sweat from his brow.

He only gets energetic when shirking responsibility and slacking off—his talent is definitely misdirected.

"Su Lin Zongzhu..." Yan Sen, who had lived over two thousand years, had never encountered such a situation.

"If Master Yan Sen wishes to refuse, I have another proposal," Su Lin said sincerely as he stepped before Yan Sen and summoned a cluster of glowing orbs hovering above his head, smiling:

"I sincerely invite Master Yan Sen to serve as a substitute teacher in my sect, in exchange for access to the inner layers of the Heavenly Dao Library."

He did want to slack off, but if he could find a good teacher for that kid, sacrificing some of his collected knowledge as payment wasn't out of the question.

Yan Sen frowned, fell silent for a moment, then smiled:

"Forgive me for declining. Since Tianshen Sect's founding, no Zongzhu has ever served as a subordinate elder in another sect—even as a temporary teacher, our sect's cultivation methods cannot be easily transmitted."

"Oh, you can become Zongzhu instead," Su Lin said.

Yan Sen: "."

This person...

Yan Sen's first impression of him was being wildly rewritten in his mind; he rubbed his forehead in pain, wondering if he'd misheard.

'You can become Zongzhu instead?'

He's serious?!

"But Tianyi Sect isn't Tianshen Sect."

"We could just rename it Tianshen Sect now."

Su Lin thought for a moment and asked White Zunzhe: "When we named it, didn't we consider 'Tianshen Sect'?"

White Zunzhe fell silent briefly, then nodded.

". " Yan Sen's lips twitched—he had never anticipated this turn of events.

As an unfathomably powerful cultivator, such a vast sect was simply handing over its Zongzhu position to someone else.

Something's off, isn't it?

No matter how you think about it, something's off, isn't it?

In a daze, Yan Sen saw in Su Lin the shadow of his own master, that old eccentric—except that old man valued the sect more.

Yan Sen sighed, gazing at the light spheres above, then suddenly smiled: "Since Brother Su Lin extends such a generous invitation, I have a proposal."

"Do go on," Su Lin said, pouring wine from a flask of Drunk Immortal Lady into a cup. "For my disciples' future, I as sect master will do anything."

"Each of you, as guest elders, join Tianshen Sect to impart your unique systems of knowledge and skills to our disciples, while I join your sect—thus, our two sects become one family."

Yan Sen raised a finger and spoke eloquently.

Such an arrangement—preserving both sects' dignity while fostering mutual exchange and benefiting their disciples—would normally be impossible, but this other sect had few members and did not cling to tradition.

First, if I simply took their scripture encompassing the Dao treasures of countless worlds, I would owe them a great debt; second, since they once considered naming themselves Tianshen Sect, this may not be mere coincidence—cultivators value the word "fate."

"While strengthening Tianshen Sect, Brother Su Lin could serve as vice sect master on my side—we could…" "Brother Su Lin?"

Yan Sen kindly reminded: "Your wine is overflowing."

Zui Xian Niang trickled from the wine cup, spilling across the table, the floor—everywhere—its fragrance spreading, thick divine energy radiating in all directions.

Su Lin stared blankly at the other, utterly bewildered by the existence of such a "good person."

"If there are no objections, we can sign a covenant."

Yan Sen produced a covenant:

"This way, I won't need to bring Miss Feng Xiaoxiao to Tianshen Sect in another realm—Brother Xiao Yan can meet his daughter anytime."

"Immortals and mortals are distinct, but as cultivators, for relatives to walk the Dao together is also a blessing."

"Brother Su Lin, what do you say?"

Su Lin felt all eyes converging on him; he avoided their gaze, resting his chin on his right hand as if deep in thought.

"Hmm."

"I'm merely the sect master—this matter? Every elder in our sect is independent, unbound by the old ways—their opinions matter just as much."

Su Lin put away the flask and sat down, trying to ignore the message, when he saw Xiao Yan already standing before Yan Sen, pressing his thumbprint.

"Good, that's enough."

Xiao Yan's eyes gleamed; he turned and stormed toward Su Lin, seizing his hand and clamping his thumb.

"Da Sha Yan! What are you doing?!" Su Lin barked.

"For Feng Xiaoxiao, I'll do anything."

Xiao Yan exerted every ounce of strength, a mortal defying a god:

"You said yourself—for your disciples' future, you'd do anything—press it down!"