The silence in the clearing was heavy, thick with the weight of thousands of years of expectations. Grandpa Yan, an Ascendant Realm powerhouse who had fought against the darkness for thousands of year, remained frozen, his ancient eyes fixed on the youth who looked more like a wayward scholar than a saviour of the world.
To answer the question that had been hanging in the air.
Mu Chen did not offer a grand speech. Instead, he reached into the folds of his plain robes, his fingers brushing against something cold and jagged.
With a flick of his wrist, as if he were tossing a common pebble across a pond, Mu Chen threw the object toward the old man.
"Here," he said, his voice flat and devoid of any ceremony.
Grandpa Yan's eyes widened slightly as he watched the small, fist-sized stone tumble through the air. His reflexes, honed by centuries of combat at the peak of existence, allowed him to catch the object effortlessly.
He held it in his palm, feeling its rough texture. He looked down at it, then back at Mu Chen, his expression shifting from curiosity to a biting frost.
"What is the meaning of this?" Yan asked, his voice echoing with the cold authority of an Ascendant.
Despite being a powerhouse, a man capable of rewriting the very laws of nature with a wave of his hand, Yan had never actually seen the Origin Stone in person. It was a legend, a myth whispered in the halls of the most ancient sects.
He had expected a radiant gem pulsing with the light of a thousand suns, or perhaps a heavy artifact dripping with primordial runes. He did not expect a dull, grayish stone that looked like it belonged in a garden path.
Mu Chen didn't bother to reply. He felt that the back-and-forth of a normal conversation was too tiring.
He simply stared at the stone in Yan's hand, deep within the artifact, the spirit known as Shi understood the unspoken directive. He realized that if anything was going to get done, he would have to manifest and handle the social labor himself.
As the treasure spirit of the number two divine artifact, Shi felt a wave of existential exhaustion wash over itself. He seriously contemplated whether it was time to retire into a permanent slumber or perhaps find a way to return to the void.
Where was the majesty of the cosmic balancer? Where was the awe-inspired worship that usually greeted the manifestation of a primordial spirit? Under Mu Chen's "ownership," he had been reduced to nothing more than a glorified personal assistant.
With a faint shimmer of silver light, Shi appeared in the physical world, his translucent form hovering between the old man and the boy. He looked at the bewildered Yan and sighed.
"It is the Origin Stone," Shi explained, his voice echoing with a weary dignity. "And I am the spirit born of it."
Hearing this, Yan's posture changed instantly. The casual grip he had on the stone tightened until his knuckles turned white, as if he feared that the moment he loosened his fingers, the artifact would vanish into the ether. He looked at the stone, then at Mu Chen, and he couldn't help but let out a sharp, indignant curse.
"You brat!" Yan barked, his ancient voice cracking with disbelief. "How can you throw something like this so casually? Do you have any idea what you are holding?"
Mu Chen offered no defense. He didn't even look like he was listening. He was growing tired of standing, his legs feeling heavy from the minor exertion of walking into the clearing.
His eyes landed on a rocking chair sitting empty near Shen Xi. Without a word, he walked over, slumped into the seat, and pulled a small piece of cloth from his pocket. He draped the cloth over his eyes, kicked his feet out, and began to rock back and forth with a slow, rhythmic creak.
Yan felt a wave of utter humiliation crash over him. His head seemed to fill with black lines of frustration. He was an Ascendant, a being who should be greeted with kowtows and offerings, yet this teenager was treating him like a piece of background furniture while he took a nap.
He really wanted to reach out and thrash the boy, to install some semblance of manners into that thick, lazy skull. However, out of respect for the "Owner of the Origin Stone," he took a long, deep breath and forced his simmering temper back.
Shen Xi, standing nearby, watched the interaction with a growing sense of amusement. She had never seen her always-calm, perfectly composed Grandpa Yan in such a state of disarray.
She looked at the boy under the cloth and couldn't help but let a small smile touch her lips. He is certainly... interesting.
Shi and Xiao Diao watched Yan's reaction from the sidelines, both of them quietly enjoying the old man's suffering. Finally, they weren't the only ones who felt the urge to strangle this little Kid.
Xiao Diao decided to push the old man a little further. He let out a dry cough, his whiskers twitching as he looked at Yan. "Senior, why don't you take a look inside the stone? It's much more impressive when you see the internal space."
Xiao Diao called him "Senior" only because Yan belonged to the same generation as his father. Otherwise, with the mink's legendary arrogance and pride, the idea of him calling someone senior just because they were strong would have been a hilarious joke.
Hearing this, Shi felt a pang of heartbreak. He looked at the little mink as if to ask if this was truly necessary.
He knew what was inside its own space, and he knew exactly how it would look to a traditional cultivator. Where would his dignity be when the world realized what a cosmic-balancing divine artifact was being used for?
Xiao Diao held back his laughter, though his body was shaking with the effort.
"Oh?" Yan replied, his curiosity piqued. "Is there something interesting inside? Let me see what a divine artifact truly looks like from the within."
The old man closed his eyes and sent a thread of his immense consciousness into the Origin Stone. He expected to see a world of swirling primordial laws, perhaps a library of forgotten techniques, or some kind of forgotten secret that would change his worldview.
The next second, Yan's eyes snapped open and he practically jumped from his chair as if someone had pinched his soul with a hot iron. He pointed a shaking finger at the sleeping Mu Chen and barked in a voice that shook the trees.
"You little punk! What the hell is this? What in the world is wrong with you?"
The old man's shouting was so violent that a small bird that had just settled on the courtyard fence suffered a literal heart attack; it toppled over and then frantically took flight, chirping in terror as it decided that this forest was far too scary for its kind. In this yard, the humans were clearly more wild than the animals.
Mu Chen, disturbed by the noise, reached up and pulled the cloth down just enough to peek at Yan with one weary eye. He let out a long, exhausted sigh. "What happened now? Why are you making such a fuss, old man? Some of us are trying to rest."
Shen Xi looked at Yan in genuine puzzlement. "Grandpa Yan, what did you see? What's wrong?"
Yan looked at the deadpan lack of interest in Mu Chen's gaze and clutched the Origin Stone even tighter. His knuckles were so white they looked like bone. To Shi, who was still manifested, it felt like he was being squeezed by a mountain. It was undeniably the blackest day of his long existence.
Yan gritted his teeth, his chest heaving with indignation. He took a deep breath, trying to find the words. "What happened? Brat, do you even know the weight of the responsibility you carry? Do you understand that we have to guard the borders against the demons every single day? We have spent our lives hoping for the day when Senior Hong Zun's successor would finally arrive to end this nightmare!"
He paused, his anger boiling over as his mind flashed back to the interior of the stone. "And what do I find? You have filled the ultimate cosmic balancer with snacks! There are piles of clothes, cured meat, pillows, blankets, and a mountain of wine jars! You... you even placed a full-sized bed inside!"
By the time he finished speaking, Yan was gasping for air as if he had just run a mortal's marathon.
The clearing fell into an absolute, suffocating silence. It was as if the cosmos itself had paused for a moment to process the absurdity of the situation before deciding that it had nothing to do with this particular mess and continuing its rotation.
Xiao Diao burst into a fit of loud, raucous laughter, clutching his stomach. "Hahaha! Old geezer Shi, we aren't alone in this anymore! Finally, someone else sees the tragedy!"
Shi didn't know whether to laugh or cry. While Xiao Diao was right—having a new companion in their suffering was a relief—but also he was the one being treated like a walk-in pantry.
Yan turned his glare toward the mink, his voice booming. "Why are you laughing? Is this some kind of joke to you? Don't you understand the gravity of the situation? The day the demons attack, our world will be nothing more than livestock, and here the cosmic balancer is being treated like a kitchen!"
Shen Xi was privately amused by the idea of Mu Chen using a divine artifact as a suitcase, but she also knew that Grandpa Yan was right. she had seen him at the borders, watching the darkness and carrying the immense burden of the world's safety.
Xiao Diao finally managed to control his laughter. He knew that if Yan kept getting this angry and said something that truly ruined Mu Chen's mood, the consequences would be unpredictable and terrifying.
"Okay, calm down, Senior," Xiao Diao said, wiping a tear from his eye. "You have no idea who you're dealing with. You're judging him by the standards of a normal cultivator."
Yan calmed himself, though he still looked like he wanted to breathe fire. He looked at the mink with a questioning gaze. "What do you mean by that, little mink? He is the owner of the stone; he should be a Paragon, not a glutton."
Xiao Diao hopped off the fence and sat near the old man. He reached into his own spatial pocket and pulled out a bottle of the fine wine. He filled a glass to the brim. Before Yan could protest, Shi spoke up.
"Yan, drink," the spirit said solemnly. "You will require the fortification when we recite the truth about him to you."
The mystery only deepened for Yan, and for Shen Xi, Mu Chen only piqued her curiosity more.
...
The afternoon shadows lengthened as Xiao Diao began to narrate the decade he had spent as Mu Chen's companion.
He spoke of an anomaly that had been born into a branch family of a minor kingdom. He spoke of a child who disintegrated spiritual weapons as an infant and flattened geniuses with a grain of sand. He told the stories of deeds that made the very concepts of reality and existence seem like suggestions rather than laws.
Several times, Yan interrupted him, shouting that such things were impossible. "I don't believe it!"
In response, the mink simply touched Yan's forehead, importing the raw, unfiltered memories directly into the old man's mind.
By the time Xiao Diao finished speaking, the fire in Yan's eyes had been replaced by a vacant, dazed stare. The Ascendant Realm powerhouse, a man whose strength granted him the power to rewrite world laws, was suddenly doubting the validity of his own existence.
He realized that the "strength" he had cultivated for thousands of years was like a child's drawing compared to the absolute, illogical power of the boy sleeping in the rocking chair.
Shen Xi didn't make a single comment, but her breath came in short, shallow gasps. To her, the stories were scary, absurd, and strangely beautiful all at once.
"Fill one more glass," Yan said, his voice sounding hollow. He spoke in the tone of a man who had seen everything there was to see in life, and who knew that nothing would ever amaze him again.
The only sound in the clearing was the soft, rhythmic snoring of Mu Chen, who was sleeping soundly under his cloth. Yan looked at the boy and shook his head. Who would believe that this lazy youth was the owner of such absolute, world-breaking power?
Yan looked at the mink and gestured to the bottle. "Make it a strong one this time."
Xiao Diao grinned, pouring the wine with a flourish. "Welcome to the gang, Senior."