Su Mo snapped the ledger shut, took a deep breath, opened it again, and read it one more time.
No mistake.
Six hundred and thirty-seven years.
The Big Black Ox at his house—the one he rode around like a mount, treated like a brother, and bossed around like a pack mule all day long.
Was actually a six-hundred-year-old Demon King!
Su Mo stood rooted to the spot, his mind completely blank.
Su Mo fell silent.
He thought of so many details—
The way Big Black Ox bobbed its head while reading.
The calm look in Big Black Ox's eyes when it nudged Old Jack in the butt with its horns.
Every time Su Mo ranted, Big Black Ox would give a "moo." Now that he thought about it, its tone had clearly meant:
"Heh. Stupid human."
Su Mo's mouth twitched.
"You freaking... You're a six-hundred-year-old Demon King, and you've been treating me like a brother?"
The ledger grew faintly warm in his hands.
On the last page, a new line slowly appeared:
Deep Reading in Progress—
Big Black Ox is reading your work, Analects of Swinging...
Su Mo: "..."
He silently closed the ledger and left the Heavenly Dao Library.
When he opened his eyes, he was still in the little room, and the moon shone bright outside the window.
He turned to look at the doorway.
A pair of eyes as big as copper bells stared straight at him through the crack.
In the moonlight, Big Black Ox poked its head through the gap, its expression grave.
"Moo." (So you know now?)
Su Mo stared it down for three seconds.
Then he silently pulled up the quilt and covered his head.
"You old cow, you're a real schemer!"
Big Black Ox nodded in satisfaction and pulled its head back.
Beyond the crack in the door came the sound of pages turning.
Under the covers, Su Mo silently screamed.
I freaking rode a Hundred-Year Soul Beast for two years?!
Night fell deep.
Su Mo was fast asleep.
Mainly because he'd been exhausted that day—awakening, growing bigger, scaring a child to tears, knocking Tang San unconscious, going home to comfort his mother, and finding out he'd been riding a Demon King for two years... The amount of information packed into one day would have overwhelmed anyone.
But no matter how exhausted he was, he still couldn't ignore his body's needs.
In the middle of the night, Su Mo woke up with a full bladder.
Half-asleep, he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and staggered toward the door.
The moonlight outside was bright.
The night breeze was cool.
The toilet was just a few steps away, in the corner of the yard.
Su Mo undid his belt, exposing little Su Mo—
Then he saw it.
In the yard, beneath the moonlight, a short figure stood stiffly.
Not moving at all.
Facing the door.
Its eyes reflected the light in the darkness.
Su Mo's brain instantly crashed.
Then every horror-movie scene he'd ever seen in his previous life surged into his mind at once.
The Ring, Ju-On, The Old Corpse in the Mountain Village...
His body reacted even faster than his brain.
A hot stream burst out of him uncontrollably.
"Splash—"
A direct hit.
The short figure shuddered all over.
So did Su Mo.
Crap, he'd peed on someone.
He widened his eyes and looked carefully in the moonlight.
Small and skinny, with short hair and three lumps on his forehead that reflected the moonlight like three little light bulbs.
Its clothes were soaked, water dripping from them.
Those eyes stared straight at him, their expression as complicated as if they'd just been through the biggest ups and downs of a lifetime.
It was Tang San.
Su Mo: "..."
Tang San: "..."
The night breeze blew past, carrying a faintly peculiar smell.
Tang San's mouth twitched.
Su Mo's mouth twitched too.
Silence.
A long silence.
At last, Tang San spoke first, his voice hoarse:
"Su... Su Mo."
Su Mo replied without thinking, "...Yeah."
"You..."
"I..."
"You just..."
"I wasn't awake." Su Mo cut him off decisively. "I was sleepwalking."
Tang San looked down at his soaked clothes, then back up at Su Mo.
Beneath the moonlight, his six-year-old face plainly said, "Do you think I'm an idiot?"
Su Mo kept a straight face. "Sleepwalkers can't control what they do. That's common knowledge."
Tang San fell silent for three seconds.
Then he drew a deep breath, stepped back, and bowed deeply to Su Mo.
"Your disciple, Tang San, pays his respects to Master!"
Su Mo: "???"
He was stunned.
What kind of turn was this?
He'd peed all over him, and Tang San was bowing and asking to become his disciple?
"Wait, wait, wait." Su Mo waved his hands. "Don't rush to bow. What are you doing?"
Tang San straightened up. In the moonlight, his gaze was utterly earnest.
"Today, in the ancestral hall, Master held back. You only knocked me out and didn't hurt me at all."
Su Mo: That was because I was afraid your dad would come chop me up.
Tang San continued, "Those three lumps were arranged so neatly. That shows your absolute control over your strength, and the compassion of one who stands above others."
Su Mo: I just flicked him without thinking.
Tang San went on, "And you wrote a book at six years old. You must be a man of great wisdom."
Su Mo: That part's true.
Tang San added, "Your disciple pondered hard all day and finally understood."
Su Mo had a bad feeling about this.
"Master was sending me a hint." Tang San's voice rang with conviction. "You came to enlighten me in the middle of the night!"
Su Mo: "..."
"You knocked me out and left three lumps, but didn't hurt me. You were guiding me!"
Su Mo: "..."
"Your disciple thought he might be overthinking it, but just now!" Tang San's eyes blazed. "You appeared right at midnight and stood before me, and even..."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"You even bestowed upon me a... trial."
Su Mo nearly choked on his own spit.
A trial?
You call that a trial?
That was pee! It was pee!
"Tang San." Su Mo tried to keep his voice calm. "Listen to me. This was a misunderstanding."
"Your disciple understands." Tang San nodded. "Master was testing my ability to comprehend."
"No, it really was just a misunderstanding."
"Your disciple knows." Tang San's gaze grew even more resolute. "The actions of a master always have profound meaning."
Su Mo opened his mouth.
He realized that nothing he said would help.
This kid's imagination was way too strong.
He looked at Tang San's earnest face, his soaked clothes, and the three lumps gleaming in the moonlight, and suddenly felt a little sorry for him.
With an imagination like that, how many webnovels must he have read in his previous life?
No, he'd apparently been a disciple of the Tang Sect in his previous life. He probably didn't read webnovels.
Then he must have been born with it.
A natural talent!
Su Mo sighed.
Fine. If he couldn't explain it, he'd stop trying.
After all, once Tang San made up his mind, not even nine oxen could drag him away from it. Rather than argue that "I never meant to take you as my disciple," he might as well think about how to deal with this mess.
He couldn't kill him. His father was a Titled Douluo.
He couldn't beat him, either. It would be even worse if he accidentally hurt him.
And he couldn't chase him away. Just look at those eyes. Could he really send him off?
Su Mo thought for a moment, then turned and walked into the house.
Tang San immediately followed.
Su Mo stopped in front of the bookstall, pulled out a book at random, and handed it to Tang San.
"Take it. Read."
Tang San accepted it with both hands and looked down at the cover—Battle Through the Heavens.
The moment his fingers touched the pages, the book suddenly glimmered, as if a wave of heat were rising from between the lines.
He couldn't help opening to the first page.
[Dou Power, third stage!]
A line of text appeared before his eyes.
Then the world changed.
Tang San found himself standing in a massive arena, surrounded by countless disdainful stares. A thin, frail youth stood in the middle, listening to the jeers all around him—
"Useless!"
"Three years, and you're still at the third stage!"
"The disgrace of the Xiao Clan!"