Chapter 70: Father Missing, Zhang Fan

The next day, the cicadas and birds in the mountains woke Zhang Fan from sleep.

He opened his eyes and felt refreshed; his true yang had increased significantly.

“Could I really be a rare cultivation genius? Even sleeping boosts my true yang?” Zhang Fan mused.

He longed to reach the [High Skill] rank as soon as possible, so he could replenish the lifespan lost from awakening his spiritual ability—and perhaps even attempt to extract the [True Martial Jade Tablet] from within him.

Zhang Fan knew this object, though precious, was a burden on him.

Yet reaching [High Skill] was an extremely long path.

Those with high Dao skill were called High Skill; some spent their entire lives unable to touch such a realm.

Though Zhang Fan still remained at the [Skill Apprentice] rank, his true yang was rising rapidly, enough to support the use of four or five minor techniques.

Know that mastering twelve minor techniques grants promotion to the [Mystic Master] tier.

Since returning from True Martial Mountain, he had spent only one night to observe his yuan shen and let it depart his body; later, he awakened the Daoist spiritual ability, Samadhi True Fire…

To date, he had cultivated for merely two or three months, yet already possessed such cultivation—so much so that even Zhang Fan himself felt something was wrong!! Especially yesterday, he had no memory at all of what Jiang Hu had told him.

“My yuan shen must truly be damaged…”

Zhang Fan frowned, picked up his phone, opened his contacts, and dialed Zhang Lingzong.

“Sorry, the number you dialed is temporarily unreachable. If you need the recipient to call back…”

“Unreachable?” Zhang Fan frowned. Not just no answer?

He hung up and called again—still unreachable.

“What’s going on?”

Zhang Fan checked the time; Zhang Lingzong shouldn’t have been at the construction site yet.

“Dad’s dad is a demon, dad’s mom is a demon…”

At that moment, Zhang Fan’s phone rang—a melodious tune echoing through the room, drowning out the cicadas and birds outside.

“It’s a reply…”

Zhang Fan sat up, looked at his phone—it wasn’t Zhang Lingzong calling. The caller ID showed…

“Li Yishan!”

Since returning from True Martial Mountain, Zhang Fan had been busy with Ye Buliang’s affairs and hadn’t contacted Li Yishan for a while.

“Hello…” Zhang Fan answered; Li Yishan’s voice came through.

“Where’d you go so early? Why’s no one home?”

“You’re at my front door?” Zhang Fan blinked, checked the time—it was only six.

“Of course I’m at your front door! You’re not home?” Li Yishan’s voice came from the phone.

“I’m at Purple Mountain.”

“What are you doing at Purple Mountain?”

“Working. Why are you calling me so early?” Zhang Fan asked, unable to hide his confusion.

“I’m taking you to eat tofu pudding.”

“Are you crazy? You want tofu pudding this early?”

Zhang Fan rolled his eyes, expression strange.

“It’s not about the tofu… Don’t you use Doule? The Tofu Beauty in the east city? She’s gone viral now…” Li Yishan grew excited.

Bai Gu’s Tofu Shop was wildly popular online; people lined up daily for hours just to eat her tofu.

“I spent eight hundred yuan on a scalper ticket, originally planning to take you along… to see it, to eat it.” Li Yishan sighed.

“You’re really bored…” Zhang Fan muttered.

“Fine, I’ll go alone.”

As he spoke, Li Yishan prepared to hang up.

“Old Li…”

At that moment, Zhang Fan suddenly spoke, stopping him.

“What?”

“Do you remember when I transferred here at age twelve and told you… I kept seeing strange things?” “You mean… the invisible homeroom teacher?” Li Yishan fell silent briefly.

At twelve, Zhang Fan had just transferred schools, quiet and withdrawn; only Li Yishan became his friend.

Yet he often spoke alone to empty air, making everyone think he was odd.

Li Yishan once asked him, and Zhang Fan replied that his homeroom teacher spoke to him—wearing glasses, high heels, red lipstick, looking fierce, and he dared not disobey.

At the time, Li Yishan found it strange, because their homeroom teacher was male.

“I remember… you said one night your dad didn’t come to pick you up, and that teacher tried to walk you home—but a little girl grabbed you by the arm… short hair, even with her ears… saying the teacher wasn’t human…”

Li Yishan went on: “Later… they found you unconscious outside the school clinic…”

“Didn’t your dad take you to the doctor? Said it was traumatic hallucination…”

Here, Li Yishan paused slightly: “Why are you asking about this now?”

“I mean… if what I saw was real… if those weren’t hallucinations…” Zhang Fan murmured softly.

“Hey hey hey… Old Zhang, what’s wrong with you? Time doesn’t wait, the past shouldn’t be dwelled on—don’t go thinking about old stuff, don’t go crazy.” Li Yishan quickly called out, cutting him off.

“I know… it’s fine…” Zhang Fan replied vaguely, then hung up.

Strange phenomena could only be seen through yuan shen observation.

If what he saw back then was real—if they weren’t hallucinations—then only one possibility remained…

“My yuan shen… woke up once?!”

The moment this thought arose, Zhang Fan himself was startled—but upon reflection, it made sense.

Everything changed when he was twelve. If his yuan shen had truly awakened once, then from age twelve onward, it gradually fell silent, which was why he stopped seeing those things afterward.

Thinking of this, Zhang Fan picked up his phone and dialed Zhang Lingzong again—still unreachable.

He hung up, opened his contacts, and found Liu Fusheng.

After a few “beep-beep-beep” sounds, Liu Fusheng’s voice came through.

“Little Fan, so early… what’s up?”

“Uncle Liu, my dad’s phone won’t connect. Do you know where he is?” Zhang Fan asked.

“Unreachable? He should still be at the construction site…” Liu Fusheng paused, then asked: “Is it urgent?”

“No… just checking in.” Zhang Fan replied casually.

“You’ve grown up—now you care about your old man.” Liu Fusheng chuckled: “Don’t worry, try calling again later.”

“Mm.” Zhang Fan nodded.

“Alright, I’ll hang up.”

“Uncle Liu…”

At that moment, Zhang Fan suddenly called out.

“Something else?”

“Uncle Liu, do you remember my mom? I can’t seem to recall her at all.” Zhang Fan asked.

His memories seemed to form a gap at age twelve.

The other end fell silent.

“Your mom was gentle, kind to everyone… she loved you very much…”

After a brief pause, Liu Fusheng’s voice grew low and melancholy.

“She must have been… very good… very good…” Zhang Fan murmured; his memories of his mother were indeed very faint.

“Yes… she was good…” Liu Fusheng said firmly.

“After all…”

“She was human…”

A faint sigh came from the phone; this remark struck Zhang Fan as deeply strange.

“A decent person…”

(End of Chapter)