An Anonymous Immortal Grants You a Top-Tier Dao Companion - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I was so frightened that my mind went blank as the phoenix carried me charging forward.

I didn’t know how long had passed before the phoenix let me go. I rolled onto the ground in a miserable heap.

A rustling sound came from above my head. I looked up and saw a man leaning against a tree, his face hidden by the leaves so I couldn’t make out his features.

Then a gust of wind swept by, and the man descended from the sky like a crane, landing lightly in front of me.

He was more than a head taller than me, with broad shoulders and a lean, powerful build.

My gaze rose, and I saw his eyes.

What a striking color. They were like jade with a rich, watery luster, with a faintly different hue at the center of the pupils, as if flecks of gold had been embedded in the stone.

There was only one person in the world with eyes that rare.

My Little Martial Uncle, Bai Hailiu, who had already ascended long ago.

I was so shocked that I clutched my chest and fainted on the spot.

When I woke again, I found him bent over me, his handsome face close enough to touch.

Chapter 3

“Little Martial Uncle, is it really your divine presence showing itself? Little Martial Uncle, I like you so much. Our swords are even the same. I spent a lot of money having someone make me a matching one. Look, look!”

I clung to his leg and burst into tears.

“Thank you, Little Martial Uncle, for backing me up. Little Martial Uncle, you’re really beautiful and kind, really all-powerful, really, really… really so fragrant. Why do you smell so good?”

The moment I said that, both Little Martial Uncle and I became awkward. The air went still for an instant.

He really did smell wonderful. A faint magnolia scent mixed with soapberry drifted through his robes into my nose, leaving me lightheaded with bliss.

Those slightly unusual eyes sat on his face so perfectly, along with the rest of his immaculate features, that I could truly feel the legendary splendor people spoke of.

I really wanted to have my way with him.

But I didn’t dare.

Little Martial Uncle looked away toward the distant woods.

“A useless spiritual root doesn’t mean your future is bleak. As long as you calm your heart and cultivate seriously, there will always be a day when you ascend. Don’t give up on yourself.”

I quickly came back to myself and nodded hard. “Yes, yes, yes. This disciple understands. From now on, I will definitely cultivate diligently.”

Little Martial Uncle looked at me as if waiting for more promises.

I wracked my brain and squeezed out another line. “This disciple will certainly guard against pride and impatience, and keep my Dao heart steadfast.”

Little Martial Uncle nodded, but he was still looking at me. There was still something hidden and expectant in his eyes.

Now I was truly confused.

He and I could barely even be considered acquainted. What could he possibly be expecting from me?

“Little Martial Uncle, do you have some instruction for me? This disciple is dull-witted. If you have something to say, please just say it directly.”

After a long silence, Little Martial Uncle finally said, “The statue of me on the sect’s back mountain. Ever since I ascended, you went to clean it every day and regularly placed flowers and fruit there. You kept it up for eight years.”

I felt a little dazed.

Ah, eight years. Someone as impatient as me had really gone on doing the same thing day after day for eight years?

Little Martial Uncle looked at me again, a little expectantly, but I still had no idea what he wanted to hear.

At last, he closed his eyes and lowered his voice, as if embarrassed. “So why did you suddenly stop going?”

I froze for a moment, then immediately understood.

Uh… did he think I’d stopped being a fan?

A loyal fan who had dutifully paid respects every day suddenly went quiet one day. Of course he’d find that strange, then start fidgeting and wondering whether his own charm had failed him, whether he’d done something wrong.

He waited and waited, and finally couldn’t help descending to the mortal world to see whether I’d climbed the wall and fallen for someone else.

When he saw me being bullied, he didn’t have time to think and immediately stepped in to back me up, letting me have my moment.

Once I figured all that out, I was drenched in sweat.

The truth was, my love for Little Martial Uncle was extremely shallow. At first, I only took a liking to him because I’d heard he was handsome and strong.

That bit of affection wasn’t nearly enough to support me for eight years of daily check-ins.

What sustained me was my conscience.

To put it simply, I wrote a lot of smut based on Little Martial Uncle.

Not only did I write it, I secretly printed the books too, and made a killing.

By now, Little Martial Uncle’s bed partners were spread across heaven and earth, regardless of gender.

His character had also gradually warped from a cold immortal lord into a beautiful, overpowered, oily showoff.

The last bit of conscience I had was this: no matter the gender, Little Martial Uncle was always the one on top. Whether it was the Demon Lord of Buye City or a demoness of the Nine Heavens, they all had to lie down and get taken.

I kept writing like that until I’d made enough money for retirement.

After all, I was a hopeless crippled spiritual root. Sooner or later I’d be swept out the door, and I had to plan for myself ahead of time.

Once I’d made enough money, I decided to stop writing and also stopped my daily routine of wiping his statue and offering incense.

After all, I didn’t want to put my conscience on trial every single day.

When I wiped the statue, I spent half my time apologizing in my heart and the other half coming up with plot ideas. After a long stretch of that, I was exhausted and under huge pressure. I was practically on the verge of splitting in two.

So I buried that shallow, complicated love for Little Martial Uncle deep in my heart and hoped it would disappear together with me when I died.

I never expected the real person to ask me about it to my face today.

He was so sincere that it made me look like some scumbag who had played with his feelings and run. For that instant, I wanted to scream, to bolt clutching my head, to kneel in front of him and slam my forehead into the ground while confessing everything – Little Martial Uncle, just treat me like a fart and let me go!

But I couldn’t.

What kind of person was Little Martial Uncle? Back then, he had charged into Guixu alone and killed until he was covered in blood, never once frowning. If he found out he’d become the male lead in smut, he might very well stab me to death on the spot.

I kept my composure, but the tension and fear still drove two hot lines of tears down my face.

Little Martial Uncle looked a little nervous. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

My tears came even harder, and with trembling lips I said, “Because I was so excited to see you that I cried.”