Chapter 119 The True Meaning of the Deepest Dao

The gates opened without resistance, no guards raising alarm, and the usual bustle of the clan seemed to part in silent acknowledgment of his presence.

Before Lin Feng could fully take in the familiar surroundings, a familiar, high-pitched voice cut through the air, filled with excitement.

"Teacher Lin Feng! Are you here to visit Wanwan?!"

Su Wanwan came running, her steps quick and light, and she nearly collided with him in her eagerness.

Her eyes sparkled with uncontainable joy, and Lin Feng could only smile at her enthusiasm.

"Of course. You’re the only one I know in the Su clan, Wanwan. Let’s go inside. I brought food and plenty of supplies for you and your mother," Lin Feng said with a gentle smile.

"Food! Thank you so much, Teacher Lin Feng! You’re the best teacher in the whole world!" Su Wanwan exclaimed, practically bouncing on her heels.

Her eyes sparkled, and for a moment, they might as well have been little hearts floating above her head. "I didn’t expect you to bring so much!"

Lin Feng chuckled softly, following her into the modest home.

Inside, the familiar smell of home-cooked food mingled with the faint scent of incense.

Su Muyao, Wanwan’s mother, looked up from preparing some simple household chores.

"Teacher Lin Feng, you didn’t have to trouble yourself. We still have lots of food from the last time," she said politely, though a small smile tugged at her lips.

"Think nothing of it," Lin Feng replied.

They gathered around the table, and the three of them began to eat.

Lin Feng made sure that Wanwan got the first helping, and he even set aside a little extra for her mother.

Once the meal had started, he quietly set down more bags of supplies... rice, vegetables, dried goods, and even a few small treats.

This,

he thought, was just a small way to help the family. The least he could do for his poorest student.

But while Lin Feng’s intentions were simple, Su Muyao’s mind was anything but.

Is Teacher Lin Feng... trying to win my heart?

she wondered silently.

She had seen the way he carried himself, how considerate he was not just to Wanwan but to her as well.

She couldn’t deny that he was handsome, confident, and exuded a calm warmth that was hard to ignore.

At 25, Su Muyao was fully aware of her own beauty. Many men in the clan had tried to court her or even make her a concubine, but she had always refused.

Since her husband’s death, her life had revolved entirely around her daughter, ensuring Wanwan’s happiness and safety.

Yet she also understood the value of a father figure in a child’s life and perhaps, she thought with a pang of curiosity, Wanwan might benefit from someone like Lin Feng.

Still... what if she was imagining things?

I mustn’t get ahead of myself. He’s a teacher. He’s here for Wanwan, not me.

But even as she tried to dismiss the thought, a small part of her heart couldn’t help wondering... what if he was different?

What if he could bring warmth not only to Wanwan’s life but to hers as well?

She watched him carefully, noting the way he laughed lightly at Wanwan’s antics, the way his eyes softened when he looked at her daughter, and the small, thoughtful gestures he made that spoke louder than words.

What should I do?

she thought again, confused.

Her mind was torn between caution, curiosity, and a faint, unfamiliar flutter of hope.

***

Meanwhile, something unusual was happening in the city morgue.

"This... this is one of the strangest things I’ve ever seen," muttered one of the attendants, eyes wide.

"They’re all dead... but not really dead. And alive... but not really alive either. They’ve become something in between," another added, his voice trembling.

"The damage to their meridians is so intricate, so convoluted, that I don’t even know where to start if I were to administer a cure for these thirty-seven individuals," a third chimed in, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Perhaps we should ask Teacher Lin Feng to undo his curse on them," someone suggested cautiously.

"Hmmm... don’t bother," came the dry reply from the supervising officer.

"These people belong to a gang in the slum. It’s probably better that they’re all off the streets."

"So... what do you recommend we do with them?"

"I don’t know," the officer admitted, scratching his head. "You have thousands of storage rooms for the dead, right? Deposit them there until their eventual end. And don’t worry... they won’t need food or water. The qi within their bodies will sustain them until their longevity runs out. That’s all. I’ll leave them in your capable hands."

"I understand," the attendants replied in unison. This work was delegated to the lowest of them and the rest of them left also.

The doors closed with a heavy thud, leaving behind a scene of eerie silence... and an extremely ugly, fat man glaring from the shadows.

He had worn a professional, controlled expression before, but now his face contorted into the twisted grin of a maniacal madman.

The thirty-seven men surrounding him seemed almost like silent witnesses to his gleeful cruelty.

"It seems fortune has truly favored me today," the fat man muttered, his eyes glinting with wicked delight.

"Thirty-seven new toys... and one of them is already half a step away from the Foundation Establishment realm. Young, handsome... only two hundred years old. That means I’ll have three hundred more years of amusement with this one."

Mo Yan’s heart sank as the fat man’s gaze locked onto him.

Every instinct screamed danger, but there was nowhere to hide.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and had no way to defend himself from the fat man’s clutches.

With a grotesque mixture of triumph and anticipation, the fat man stepped into Mo Yan’s space, ignoring his struggles.

He lifted Mo Yan up like a bride, his grip firm and unyielding, and carried him toward a makeshift bed.

The sound of fabric tearing followed almost immediately, a grotesque prelude to what was coming.

Mo Yan’s mind raced, and his spiritual sense flared in response.

He could see everything... every movement, every subtle intention, every terrifying thought of the fat man.

The clarity of it all was almost worse than the act itself.

Mo Yan’s body felt paralyzed, trapped under the weight of the fat man’s excitement.

Fear and helplessness coursed through him like icy fire.

Every second stretched, every heartbeat thundered in his ears, and he could feel the inevitability of what was about to happen.

If he hadn’t gotten out of bed today, if he hadn’t met Lin Feng, if he hadn’t fancied Ling Lan... none of this would be happening to him.

Mo Yan regretted every decision that had led him here but it was already too late.

No... nooooo! That’s my precious... that’s the wrong hole!

Mo Yan screamed in his mind, a silent, desperate scream that no one could hear.