Chapter 172: Chapter 143: Xiao Qingwan (2)

"He never said it directly, but I believe I’m perceptive enough to notice. Every time he mentioned you or looked at that Jade Pendant, his feelings would show. I’m certain I’m not mistaken!"

He didn’t dare to exaggerate too much, knowing when to stop, lest she fly into a rage out of humiliation and slap him dead.

Still, he felt a certain degree of confidence. In this world, the act of giving gifts was laden with meaning. A woman giving an item like a Jade Pendant or a Sachet to a man was typically seen as a token of affection. The fact that her name was engraved on it made the implication even more obvious.

Although this was a custom from the Mortal World, Cultivators maintained a similar unspoken understanding. One did not casually give an item engraved with one’s own name to a person of the opposite sex—especially not a Sachet or a Jade Pendant.

His grandfather had worn that Jade Pendant close to his skin for so many years, always treating it with the utmost care, as if it were some peerless treasure. He’d sooner die than believe there wasn’t something more to the story.

Furthermore, her attitude toward him had been relatively friendly. When he was little, his parents might have even brought him to her to get his "head checked," addressing her as Aunt Xiao.

From this, he could infer that her relationship with his family must be quite close. They certainly weren’t enemies.

So, Song Changsheng was taking a gamble—a gamble on whether the two of them had shared that kind of relationship. If he could confirm that, he could spin the rest of the tale however he pleased.

The woman’s expression had already returned to one of indifference, but the hand she subconsciously clenched betrayed that her heart was not nearly so calm.

’It’s working.’ Song Changsheng, who had been secretly observing her, wouldn’t miss a detail like that. He instantly felt he had this in the bag.

"Is what you said... true?" the woman asked, picking up her teacup in a pretense of calm.

"Of course. I once asked my grandfather why he didn’t pursue you back then if he was interested. He didn’t answer me directly, only saying that I would understand one day. I didn’t get it at the time, but now... I think I finally understand what he meant."

"Hah. That’s just something he’d say to fool a child like you. He’s nothing but a fickle bastard. What other reason could he possibly have?" The woman let out a series of cold laughs, and the aura around her shifted subtly, growing several degrees colder.

But Song Changsheng could hear that her words were dripping with resentment!

’Whoa, I’ve hit the gossip jackpot. No wonder Grandpa didn’t want to talk about it. Turns out *he* was the scumbag in this story!’

’You’re getting senile, old man. If you had gotten together with this senior, wouldn’t our family have a Purple Mansion Great Cultivator for a patron?’

’But don’t you worry. Your grandson will do his best to salvage your image.’

Song Changsheng was inwardly thrilled, but his face remained a perfect mask of solemnity. He feigned a sigh and said, "Senior, you’ve actually misunderstood my grandfather."

The woman’s face grew chilly. "Are you trying to make excuses for him?"

"These aren’t excuses, Senior. It’s the truth.

You see, he foresaw all of this long ago. Look at you now—a Purple Mansion Great Cultivator, eternally youthful, your appearance unchanged after so many years.

But my grandfather is still just a Foundation Establishment Cultivator. At a little over two hundred years old, his hair is already white, and his face is lined with wrinkles. He felt his own talent was unworthy of you. He didn’t want to hold you back on your cultivation path." At this moment, Song Changsheng channeled his inner award-winning actor, delivering his lines with such heartfelt sincerity that he almost believed them himself.

To his surprise, his performance failed to produce the desired effect. The woman toyed with her teacup, a faint, unreadable smile playing on her lips as she looked at him. "When Song Luyan first brought you to see me, your Divine Soul was in chaos. You couldn’t even speak—you just stared at me and giggled like a fool."

"How many years has it been? You’ve grown taller, learned how to talk a smooth game, and even gotten a lot bolder. To think you’d dare to spin tales about your own grandfather."

Song Changsheng’s heart skipped a beat. He gave a sheepish laugh. "Senior, what do you mean by that?"

"Hah. You haven’t spent much time with that old bastard, have you?" The woman rose to her feet, slowly walked over until she was standing before him, and looked down at him.

Song Xianming was in seclusion year-round, so the two of them—grandfather and grandson—truly had little time together. Realizing his ruse had been exposed, Song Changsheng didn’t dare spout any more nonsense and simply nodded his head obediently.

But he was still confused. How had he given himself away? Her earlier reactions had all but confirmed his theory, and he had even provided a perfectly plausible explanation. Why had it all fallen apart so suddenly?

As if she could read his mind, the woman sneered. "Do you have any idea what people used to say about your grandfather when he was young?"

Song Changsheng was taken aback. That, he genuinely didn’t know. Song Xianming had never mentioned it, and the other family elders had only ever said that he had a certain degree of fame in the Daqi Cultivation World back in his day. Nothing more.

As a Tier Three Array Master, Song Xianming was one of only a handful in the entire Daqi Cultivation World. Being famous was only natural, so Song Changsheng had never thought much of it. Now, it seemed there was more to it than that.

An "I thought so" expression appeared on the woman’s face. She said faintly, "Back then, he was hailed as a heaven-sent prodigy, the kind seen once in a millennium. He single-handedly defeated every Cultivator of his generation in the Daqi Cultivation World. His prestige was unparalleled."

"It was only after Senior Song Yungui passed away that he gradually faded from the public eye."

Upon hearing this, enlightenment dawned on Song Changsheng. He finally understood where he had slipped up. How could a genius like that ever harbor such a ridiculous, self-deprecating thought?

’Grandpa, oh Grandpa, you really threw me under the bus this time! Why didn’t you tell me a single thing about your glorious past?’ Song Changsheng lamented inwardly. He had been backstabbed by his own dear grandfather.

Song Xianming had only made his first attempt to break through to the Purple Mansion realm when he was nearly two hundred. He had assumed it was due to a lack of talent and cooked up his story accordingly. Who could have guessed it would backfire so spectacularly?

Song Changsheng felt a profound sense of dread. His actions had been utterly disrespectful. While she probably wouldn’t kill him with a single slap, he was sure some kind of physical punishment was unavoidable.

"Kid, you tried to be clever and ended up outsmarting yourself. If you hadn’t added that final, superfluous touch, I might have actually believed your story."

"How could a man as honest and simple as Song Luyan have a son like you?" Her tone was harsh. She was genuinely furious now, having been played for a fool by a mere junior.

"Curiosity really does kill the cat... Please, Senior, deliver your punishment. I know I was in the wrong."

Song Changsheng admitted his fault without any argument. There was no point in saying anything else now. He could only pray that, for his grandfather’s sake, she might go easy on him.

The woman said nothing, just stared at him for a long moment. Finally, she spoke. "You’re a brat who desperately needs a beating. However, for your parents’ sake, I’ll let it slide this once. But if there is a next time, I will personally go to Vast Mist Peak and have a long talk with that old bastard about your actions today."

A shiver ran down Song Changsheng’s spine. He had a feeling that if his grandfather found out how he’d been spinning tales, he’d be in for a world of hurt. He hastily and meekly agreed.

"Alright. We’ll pretend today never happened. I only came to see how you were doing. Now that I’ve seen you and heard your little story, it’s time for me to leave.

I want you to ask Song Xianming something for me."

"Please, Senior, what is it?" Song Changsheng asked respectfully.

The woman stood in place, pondering for a long while before she finally spoke. "Ask him for me... if he has ever regretted his decision from all those years ago.

I don’t want to know the answer. You can listen to it for me."

With that, the woman turned and walked out of the bamboo house.

Song Changsheng called out after her, "Senior, you haven’t told me your name!"

Outside the bamboo building, the woman departed without a backward glance, her clear voice the only thing left to echo through the bamboo grove. "Xiao Qingwan."

Once he was sure she was long gone, Song Changsheng numbly returned to his seat. A long time passed before a wry smile touched his lips. "A romantic debt, just as I thought. How in the world am I supposed to bring this up with Grandpa?"

He didn’t know if Song Xianming had any regrets, but he certainly did.

"Curiosity... it really does kill the cat..."

...