I Am a Saint's Uncle

Chapter 2: I Am the Saint's Uncle

He had a mountain of treasures but dared not leave, afraid someone would off him, so he'd been stuck alone in the mountains for ages, long since bored stiff—usually not a ghost in sight, so whoever was coming now had to be his nephew.

But when had a nephew ever come to greet his uncle? Even if this nephew was a smidge older than him.

This mountain was also bound to the system. Wang Yuan's mind stirred, and the mountain gate opened a small path to guide Tongtian and the others up.

Tongtian dared not fly with his magic—there was still a force suppressing him in the unseen, and he feared offending that lofty expert.

Master and disciple entered the mountain gate.

Judging by age, Wang Yuan guessed the older one should be his nephew.

Not a bad-looking fellow, but who was the younger one?

As soon as Duobao stepped inside, his nose started twitching nonstop. Many-Treasure Rats were best at sniffing out treasures, but right now he was stunned...

How did it feel like... treasures were everywhere?

"Sit." Wang Yuan pointed at the messy straw mats scattered on the ground.

A flicker of displeasure crossed Tongtian's face—even a Chaos Demon God shouldn't be this rude, right?

But Duobao didn't care about that. He shot forward with a whoosh, plopped his butt onto a mat, and kept signaling Tongtian with his eyes.

Tongtian froze. Duobao was the first great disciple of the Jie Sect—usually a bit dense, sure, but... not this clueless.

Yet when Tongtian walked over, he was dumbfounded. The mat looked like nothing special, but what kind of eyesight did Tongtian have?

"M-Myriad Transformation Lucid Grass!"

Tongtian threw caution to the wind and sat down on the mat. Instantly, his mind and heart cleared. The normally obscure and tangled insights into the Heavenly Dao gradually became lucid. Tongtian was certain—if he sat on this mat for a thousand years, he could break through to the second level of the Enlightened Saint realm and enter the third!

Wang Yuan nodded, then shook his head. "Child, you've suffered. Isn't it just a shabby grass mat? If you like it, Uncle will weave you a mattress—this stuff feels pretty cool to lie on."

Matt... mattress?

No! Duobao shook his head. Uncle? What was going on? The saint's uncle?

Was this guy tired of living?

Would Master whip out a magic treasure and off this guy on the spot?

Duobao pressed his hands under his butt, already planning—if a fight broke out, he'd snatch the Myriad Transformation Lucid Grass mat first thing.

But after a long while, Master made no move.

Duobao stared curiously at Tongtian. Right now, Tongtian was gazing blankly at the bed... his eyes held nothing but shock and... longing.

That bed was the one Wang Yuan lay on.

Duobao followed his gaze.

"It really is... a mattress."

All woven from Myriad Transformation Lucid Grass!

Suddenly, Tongtian tilted his head back, then placed his hand on Duobao's thigh.

"Mas..."

Before he could finish, his face twisted green. A sharp pain shot through his thigh—Tongtian's hand was pinching him hard.

Duobao didn't dare say a word. Tongtian murmured, "Doesn't hurt. Sure enough, it's a dream. Why is it just a dream? If only it were real!"

He even wiped at his tears.

Duobao was almost crying from the pain. "Master, try pinching yourself?"

Tongtian blinked, looked down, and a flicker of embarrassment crossed his face. "Eh?"

What shocked him was what hung on Wang Yuan's bed canopy—a row of ornaments, twelve tiny black swords, each with a small ring at the hilt, strung together on a cord.

Wang Yuan sighed. The kid had never seen good stuff. Really, it was the kid's fault—why didn't he come sooner?

Uncle's fortune was endless—spend it all you want!

If you'd come earlier, you'd have everything. Why gawk at a decoration like this?

Right, what were those little black swords called?

Forgot.

Never mind.

Wang Yuan yanked the cord off and tossed it over. "Look, look! What are you staring at? If you want something, just tell your uncle! Such a pathetic sight—take it and play with it!"

With that, he threw the twelve little black swords strung together. Tongtian caught them in disbelief, holding the twelve black swords.

He didn't know what they were, but the aura on them...

An Innate Slaughter Supreme Treasure!

The same grade as that God Slaying Spear that dead Luo Hou had used!

Uncle?

Should he acknowledge him?

This senior must have mistaken me for someone else...

Tongtian felt a bit embarrassed, especially with Duobao standing right there.

But if he didn't acknowledge it... this was an Innate Slaughter Supreme Treasure!

Should he silence the witness? He glanced at Duobao, who felt a chill run through him. But as a Many-Treasure Rat, he was sharp as ever. "Mas—"

Before he could finish, Tongtian glared him back. "Call me young master..."

"Yes... young master."

Tongtian had already calculated something about a nephew in that instant, but he couldn't understand why the man was a mortal. Still, thinking that a Chaos Demon God must be a reincarnated form, he let it go.

Wang Yuan nodded. It seemed his elder brother was doing well now, having arranged a servant for his nephew.

Still, this child was pitiful—he'd never even seen good things before. Sigh.

He nodded. "Nephew, come here. Let your uncle broaden your horizons."

Wang Yuan lived alone in the mountains. Though there were plenty of buildings, he was used to doing as he pleased, so he led them straight to his bedchamber.

"Yes..."

Tongtian truly couldn't bear to leave. Nephew... fine, let it be nephew!

It didn't matter!

No one would ever know about this.

He and Duobao got up and followed Wang Yuan for a stroll around the mountain.

Both Tongtian and Duobao were stunned, their eyes going vacant.

The worst thing on the water's surface was a Twelfth Grade Lotus. As for the largest one, Tongtian didn't dare count—he feared his heart might burst.

In truth, Wang Yuan had built the mountain quite nicely. Though it was a bit casual, it was all the more convenient. Only after touring the area did Tongtian realize how shallow his earlier understanding had been.

This senior "uncle" was right—he was the one with no vision, no ambition.