Chapter Thirty-Five: Becoming a Disciple?

Grandpa Tong looked at this group of people and could only shake his head helplessly. He hadn't expected that just his name alone could cause such a commotion among them. Only Zhang Xuan seemed relatively calm; even young Zhao Yun appeared quite excited, though it was hard to guess what was going through his mind. Of course, Zhao Yun had never heard of Tong Yuan's reputation, but observing Yang Bo and the others’ reactions, he could surmise that the man before him must be an extraordinary figure. As for what made him remarkable, Zhao Yun had no idea, but he was certain that to be accepted as a disciple would be a tremendous gain—otherwise, it wouldn’t have caused such a stir.

Zhang Xuan, having already suspected something earlier, was somewhat mentally prepared. Though he was indeed shocked when Grandpa Tong confirmed his identity, his mind quickly shifted to pondering how best to align himself with this powerful “backer”—one sturdy and formidable. After a while, however, he couldn’t figure out any concrete plan, so he simply gave up and decided to let things take their course. He knew from countless television dramas that forcing things often led to unexpected consequences; after all, art imitates life, yet transcends it, and even though there are many bad films, some still impart valuable lessons.

As Zhang Xuan finished his musings, he noticed Zhao Yun still kneeling, glanced at Grandpa Tong, and felt that some things were simply destined. He spoke to Grandpa Tong, “Grandpa Tong, this young man is exceptional. Please accept him as your disciple; he will never let your reputation down. He’s worthy of inheriting all your skills.” Zhao Yun looked at Zhang Xuan with deep gratitude, but Grandpa Tong couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Zhang Xuan.

“Xuanzi, how do you know this kid is exceptional? Did someone visit you in a dream again, telling you that today a promising person would come to become my apprentice and inherit all my abilities? And what reputation do I have anyway? Xuanzi, don’t meddle.”

“Grandpa Tong, no dreams this time, but you have to trust my judgment. My eye for talent is truly sharp, especially with youngsters full of potential—I never miss. I swear!” As Zhang Xuan boasted, Yang Zaixing and Yang Hu chimed in, “Swearing by four is not enough, swear by five!” Both raised five fingers to the sky, exchanged a glance, and burst out laughing. Grandpa Tong and Yang Bo laughed as well. Zhang Xuan, utterly speechless, could only shrug—he dared not say more, for fear of making things worse.

Grandpa Tong was puzzled by Zhang Xuan’s sudden and passionate recommendation of Zhao Yun as his disciple, but he knew that Zhang Xuan, though eccentric, had always been shrewd in dealing with people and matters. If he felt so strongly, something extraordinary must be at play. Thus, Grandpa Tong grew interested in Zhao Yun, watched him for a while, then walked over, helped him up, and felt the bones in Zhao Yun’s limbs, nodding in approval and signaling Yang Bo to do the same. Witnessing this scene, Zhang Xuan suddenly recalled something called “child obsession,” which sent a shiver through him; he quickly looked away to avoid further thoughts.

When Zhang Xuan looked back, he saw Grandpa Tong and Yang Bo whispering together. He asked Yang Zaixing what had happened, and Yang Zaixing replied that after examining Zhao Yun’s bones, the two elders had been deep in discussion, but he had no idea what they were saying.

Yang Zaixing, Yang Hu, and Zhao Yun watched Grandpa Tong and Yang Bo whispering and felt it improper to disturb them. Only Zhang Xuan, unable to bear the suspense, spoke up, “Grandpa Tong, Yang Bo, are you done whispering, or have you reached a decision? Little Zhao Yun is still kneeling—what if he hurts himself? If he ends up half-paralyzed, that’d be a real loss…” Yang Zaixing and Zhao Yun, unsure what “half-paralyzed” meant, looked to Zhang Xuan for an explanation. But Zhang Xuan, oblivious to their glances, continued, “Grandpa Tong, do you believe in fate? Your meeting with Zhao Yun is truly heaven’s arrangement. Don’t doubt it—heaven has already woven the threads of destiny…”

Grandpa Tong tugged at his lips and looked at Zhang Xuan, unable to listen any longer, and interrupted, “Xuanzi, I don’t know if my meeting with Zhao Yun is as you say, heaven’s best arrangement, but ever since I met you, heaven has shown me no favor. All I’ve encountered are nightmares—I regret bringing you out of Zhang Village.” Yang Bo and Yang Zaixing nodded in wholehearted agreement, exchanging glances and chuckling.

Zhang Xuan, seeing their expressions, snorted, “Since you met me, I’ve cooked delicious meals for you every day, sometimes even spending my own money to buy breakfast. Because I’m young, I often run errands for you, drag you out to exercise, and act as your jester to cheer you up. Yet, after all I’ve done, this is how you treat me? It hurts—I’m bleeding inside, look at the tears in the corners of my eyes.” As he spoke, Zhang Xuan dabbed his finger in saliva and rubbed it on his eye. “See? This isn’t just ordinary tears…”

“Mmm, not ordinary tears—just saliva,” Zhao Yun replied instinctively, watching this scene in disbelief. Zhang Xuan, who had been gearing up for a long speech, was stymied by Zhao Yun’s comment. He glared at Zhao Yun and raised a hand as if to strike him. Zhao Yun, sensing Zhang Xuan’s gaze, sheepishly waved his hand, apologized profusely, and lowered his head even further. The elders, who had already felt exasperated by Zhang Xuan’s melodrama and were somewhat disgusted by the saliva trick—especially Yang Zaixing, who covered his mouth in mock nausea—couldn’t help but laugh at Zhao Yun’s remark.

“You’re all scoundrels—no sense of humanity!” Zhang Xuan muttered softly, watching their laughter.

Grandpa Tong, after laughing for a moment, suddenly grew serious. The others didn’t notice, but Zhang Xuan was stunned, thinking, “Does Grandpa Tong really have such sharp hearing? Did he catch my whispered words?” In truth, it was only Zhang Xuan’s imagination.