Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Chapter 415: I'm Not Here

The light inside the shop was somewhat dim. On several rows of old wooden bookshelves that reached the ceiling, countless thread-bound books, rare historical volumes, and dust-covered calligraphy and paintings were piled densely.

Behind the counter sat an elderly man with a head full of white hair. He wore a faded cyan long robe, a pair of Western-style reading glasses perched on his nose, and was holding a yellowed copy of the Da Xing Compendium, reading with evident delight. When the door curtain rustled, the old man did not even lift his head; in a hoarse voice he casually said, "Browse as you like, no haggling. The rare volumes are on the innermost shelf, don't touch them if you won't buy."

Su Ming did not step forward to speak right away. Following his usual Way of Survival principle, he mentally sketched the entire shop layout, confirming there were no hidden doors or ambushes, then strolled slowly to the left bookshelf, casually pulled out a volume, and idly began flipping through it.

Time passed, little by little. The shop was so quiet that only the rustle of turning pages could be heard.

After the length of an incense stick, the white-haired elder seemed tired of reading. He set the book down, removed his glasses, rubbed his brow, and finally lifted his head. With those eyes that seemed cloudy, he appraised Su Ming up and down.

Just as the old man's gaze landed, Su Ming's finger suddenly went limp while flipping a page.

Plop.

A smooth, jade-green pendant slipped from his sleeve and fell onto the hard bluish brick floor, producing a crisp clack.

"Ah!" Su Ming exclaimed and quickly bent to pick it up.

In that very brief instant as he retrieved the pendant, he deliberately adjusted the angle so the pendant's front faced the counter, exposed to the dim light.The pendant's surface was carved with several faint, intricately detailed cloud patterns. It was the unique identity mark of an outer sect disciple of the Cloud Hidden Sect, and the special pattern it bore could not be forged by ordinary people.

The white-haired elder behind the counter had his pupils suddenly shrink to pinpoints. His normally stooped back almost uncontrollably straightened by half an inch, then he forced it down again.

the book on the counter, and slowly walked out from behind

His voice was no longer hoarse, but held a restrained steadiness, "The books out front are mundane. If you seek genuine originals, perhaps you

slipped the pendant back into his sleeve, lightly brushed the dust off his clothes, and nodded slightly. "Please lead the way,

turned and led the way. He walked to the very back of the shop and pushed open a hidden door that the bookshelf

and fallen leaves carpeted the ground. The old man guided Su

reduced to the

secret room and pressed a few spots on the

this, the old man

reveal a young,

hem of his faded long robe, bent both knees, and knelt solidly

raised them above his head, and in a voice thick with nasal tone yet utterly devout, he trembled as

Hidden Sect outer disciple, Chen Mingyuan, pays respects to the True

his chest. He did not avoid the gesture; instead he accepted the salute. Then

such formality, Old Chen." Su Ming's tone was gentle and respectful of his

wiped his eyes with rough, age-spotted

old man also wore the robes of the Cloud Hidden Sect and stood before the mountain gate, dreaming of soaring on a sword and riding the wind. But the threshold to Foundation

Qihai atrophied, and further progress became impossible. The sect showed compassion instead of expelling me; they gave me some travel money. Knowing I had no face

room as if displaying the medals of his

I concealed my name and identity, doing here in the capital the work of a book peddler who is blind and deaf. I thought my life would drift away like this, muddled and

He looked at this elder whose cultivation couldn't even stabilize at third-stage Qi