Zhao Linchuan: Teacher, Can You Still Eat?

"Teacher." Zhao Linchuan bowed slightly, his voice steady and respectful. "This Golden Scale Dragon Crocodile Flower is a near-perfect match for your martial soul."

"If you consume it, I am at least seventy percent certain that your martial soul will evolve into the Golden Crocodile Emperor."

Golden Crocodile did not answer immediately. He looked down at the jade box in his hands, his thumb gently tracing the patterns on the lid, and remained silent for a long time.

For a moment, the hall was so quiet that the rustling of wind through the leaves outside the window could be heard.

After a long while, he spoke slowly: "You have a good heart."

He raised his head, his gaze passing through the open window to rest on the pale golden clouds on the distant horizon. His eyes held a touch of desolation, as if he were recalling events from long ago.

"It is just that this immortal herb has come too late, and I am already too old. It is useless for me to consume it."

He shook his head, a faint, bitter smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"At my age, it is absolutely impossible for me to make any further progress."

"I have long since passed the age of fighting and competing."

He pushed the jade box forward, his tone carrying a sense of resignation mixed with an indescribable regret.

"You should take this immortal herb back."

"Perhaps it will be more useful to someone else."

Zhao Linchuan did not reach out to take it. He looked into Golden Crocodile's eyes, paused for a moment, and suddenly changed the subject.

"Teacher, are you still able to eat?"

As soon as these words were spoken, Golden Crocodile's brows furrowed instantly.

"You brat," he said, his voice rising with a hint of indignation. "What do you mean by that?"

"I am a dignified ninety-eighth-level Peerless Douluo, your teacher! Are you asking me if I can eat?"

Zhao Linchuan ignored him. His expression remained unchanged as he stood his ground, back straight, eyes locked onto Golden Crocodile. He repeated the question, his voice and tone identical to before.

"Teacher, are you still able to eat?"

"You brat, what exactly are you trying to say?"

Golden Crocodile's brows knit tighter, but he did not immediately fly into a rage.

He could not grasp the meaning behind Zhao Linchuan's words, so he asked in a deep voice:

"I am one of the most powerful experts on this continent today; of course I can eat!"

"But from what I see..."

Zhao Linchuan said, neither fast nor slow:

"Teacher, you are already filled with the aura of twilight, like a rotting tree, nearly ready to step into your coffin, are you not?"

The moment these words were spoken, the atmosphere in the hall suddenly froze.

Golden Crocodile's expression changed instantly. A flash of anger crossed his world-weary eyes, his chest heaved slightly, and his beard trembled.

He opened his mouth as if to scold, but for some reason, he swallowed the words back.

He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his temper, and stared fixedly at Zhao Linchuan, waiting for what was to come.

Zhao Linchuan continued:

"Cultivation is like rowing a boat against the current; if you do not advance, you retreat."

"If you have lost even the ambition to improve, then your life is effectively over."

Zhao Linchuan looked directly into Golden Crocodile's eyes, his voice carrying the sharp edge characteristic of a young man.

"I have heard that when you were young, Teacher, you suppressed an entire era."

"In your time, no one dared to challenge your edge."

The corners of his mouth curled slightly, his smile filled with both respect and pity.

"But look at yourself now. Where is that spirit of 'I am the greatest under heaven' that you once possessed?"

Golden Crocodile lowered his gaze and remained silent, his fingers tightening slightly on the armrest.

Zhao Linchuan bowed his head and cupped his hands, his tone so solemn it did not sound like a joke.

"Teacher, go home and farm."

"When Lingji and I have children, they will be just right for you to raise."

"Farewell."

Having said this, Zhao Linchuan straightened his back, turned around, and walked toward the door without looking back.

Seeing this, Yan Lingji bowed slightly and hurried to follow him.

Bibi Dong stood where she was, a look of panic flashing across her face—It's over, it's over, everything is ruined.

She took a cautious half-step forward, her voice as soft as if she were coaxing an enraged lion.

"Second Elder, please don't be angry... Linchuan might have been kicked in the head while fighting soul beasts..."

Golden Crocodile remained silent with his head bowed. He clutched the jade box, his gaze fixed on the direction in which Zhao Linchuan had disappeared, his expression complex.

After a long silence, he waved his hand, his voice returning to a calm state. "No matter, you may go."

"Ah, alright, you rest well..."

Bibi Dong tiptoed, carefully retreating two steps before turning around quickly. She practically sprinted out of the hall on her tiptoes, looking exactly like a cat that had just stolen a dried fish and was scurrying away in a panic.

The sound of footsteps gradually faded, and the hall fell silent once more.

Golden Crocodile sat alone in the main seat, looking down at the jade box in his hands.

After a long while, he raised his head and gazed at the scenery outside the hall.

In the distance, the sky was high and the clouds were light; a few birds streaked across the horizon and vanished behind the mountains.

Golden Crocodile muttered to himself, "Am I truly... getting old?"

A moment later, in the long corridor outside the Pope Hall.

Bibi Dong walked beside Zhao Linchuan, chattering incessantly, her expression a mix of anxiety and anger.

"Linchuan, have you lost your mind?"

"How could you talk back to your teacher like that?"

She grew more agitated as she spoke, nearly resorting to physical force.

"Even if you were trying to provoke him, you didn't have to be so blunt!"

"He is a living legend, and you asked him if he could still eat? You even told him to go home and farm?"

She took a deep breath, her voice rising another notch.

"Isn't that just grabbing him by the hair and slapping him in the face?"

"The old man is terminally ill," Zhao Linchuan said, his pace steady and his tone indifferent. "If I don't use strong medicine, it won't work."

He did not linger on the topic, shifting the conversation instead.

"After you finish reporting the situation from these past few days, cooperate with me and help me secure a position with actual authority."

"Tch..."

The corners of Bibi Dong's mouth curled up slightly, her chin lifting as a proud, haughty smile appeared on her face.

"So, there are times when you need to beg this Saintess?"

She puffed out her chest, adopting an "it's all on me" posture.

"Just wait, and watch this Saintess perform in a moment."

"Oh, right," Zhao Linchuan continued, "and regarding the matter of your Sister Lingji's spirit ring, you need to say it like this later..."

"I know, I know, how many times have you said that? My ears are practically calloused from hearing it..."

An hour later, inside the Pope Hall.

Qian Xunji sat behind a large desk piled high with documents, yet he had no heart to review them. He leaned back in his chair, the expression on his face shifting constantly.

Shock, disbelief, bewilderment, sentimentality... every emotion played out across his face in turn, as if he were performing a silent pantomime.

After a long, long time, Bibi Dong finally finished giving a brief description of their encounters over the past few days.

She recounted the events vividly, leaving Qian Xunji stunned and bewildered; he felt as though he were listening to a science fiction story, finding it all somewhat hard to believe.

Had the three of them not just displayed their spirit rings, he likely wouldn't have dared to believe that what Bibi Dong had just said was actually true, even if someone had beaten him to death.