Chat Group Crossover: My System Simulates Infinite Anime Worlds — Chapter 54

Chapter 54: The Fox and the Grand-Disciple

“You should know,” you mused to yourself, “that the title of ‘Dragon Master’ was something the Vidyadhara proclaimed for themselves. There was no such thing in the beginning. After all, greed is an intrinsic part of every sentient being.”

With the previous Dragon Master dealt with, the newly reborn Dan Feng strode toward you, his movements stiff and imposing. He stopped directly in front of you, fixing you with a stare from those unnervingly placid eyes. His expression seemed to silently ask, ‘Was I really that easy to bully when I was young?’If you could read his thoughts, you would have given him a silent thumbs-up.’It was a blast,’you’d tell him.’This cold, stoic face you have now isn’t nearly as entertaining.’

Despite his grown-up, imposing demeanor, you still reached out and flicked him on the forehead. His rebirth technique had, in essence, made him a different person. This was no longer the Dan Feng you had once known. Though he possessed the memories of his past self, his new life experiences had forged an entirely different personality.

Besides, you always harbored a suspicion that the Vidyadhara were not a product of this universe. Your own studies into the Path of Permanence had revealed that achieving true immortality required mobilizing the very laws of the cosmos.

You could only let out a soft sigh. “Where in this world is there such a thing as true immortality?”

Roughly a hundred years drifted by. One day, Jingliu returned from her travels with a fox she had found—a large fox with fur of a faint purplish hue, who went by the name Bai Heng.

She was a whirlwind of energy, an incurable optimist, and a social butterfly through and through. It didn’t take long for her to befriend the stoic Dan Feng, and her relationship with you was quite warm as well.

Watching the large fox constantly trying to get closer to Jingliu, a stray thought drifted through your mind. ‘Yuri is a beautiful thing, but it does have its limitations… like reproduction.’

The moment the thought surfaced, however, you dismissed it with your usual pragmatism. With a little genetic technology, you reasoned, they could certainly have children. The only real questions were who would be the father and who would be the mother… or perhaps they could both be pregnant at the same time.

Your musings were interrupted when you began to notice something amiss. The large fox, Bai Heng, was being far too enthusiastic toward you. You were completely baffled by it, unable to comprehend the reason for her fervor. A strange thought crossed your mind: did your very constitution just attract foxes?

It brought back a distant memory. After you had cleaved that living celestial body in half, a certain white-haired fox-kin pilot had pursued you relentlessly for a time. When she finally gave up, she had pointed a finger right at your nose and declared: “You just wait! I will never give up, and my descendants will never give up either! One day, one of us will sleep with you!”

You had treated it as a joke at the time, and the matter eventually faded into obscurity. You sent a wedding gift when she married, and when the old fox finally passed away, you attended her funeral, personally launching her casket into the silent expanse of space in a skiff.

Thinking of this, and then looking at the vivacious Bai Heng, who was currently trying to charm you with her coquettish wiles and social graces, an absurd notion took root in your mind.

‘No way… It can’t be. Could this large fox be that pilot’s descendant?’

Later, through a series of subtle, carefully worded questions, you managed to get Bai Heng to spill her entire family history.

It was just as you had suspected. She was, indeed, a descendant of that same white-haired fox. And, just as you’d guessed, she knew nothing of her ancestor’s bold declaration.

You decided to keep this information to yourself. This entire situation reeked of the meddling of Aha the Elation. You could almost feel the Aeon hiding somewhere, watching the ridiculous scene unfold and waiting for you to make a fool of yourself.

Some time later, you gained a grand-disciple. That shameless fellow Teng Xiao had tried to shove the boy onto you first, but you found the prospect of teaching troublesome and promptly passed him off to Jingliu.

Jingliu, for her part, accepted the new disciple without a word.

Then, she proceeded to apply every single harsh training method you had ever used on her to her own young apprentice.

Jing Yuan, your new grand-disciple, would often sneak over to you to complain, his face streaked with dirt and tears. He’d insist his master was a devil, a demon who would throw a small child onto a battlefield and simply watch from the sidelines. He lamented how he had nearly died several times over.

You could only pat his shoulder, give him a solemn thumbs-up, and say, “You’ll get used to it. This is the tradition of our lineage. A tradition that, of course, started with me.”

What Jing Yuan never knew, however, was that after every one of his tearful complaints, you would secretly send a message to Jingliu via the Jade Abacus. The contents of those messages, and the sly, knowing look you wore while sending them, were a mystery best left unsolved.

And so, Jing Yuan’s life remained mired in hardship.

On a separate note, you began to sense a faint, sharp killing intent from Jingliu whenever she looked at the cheerful fox, Bai Heng.

On your birthday, the simmering tensions came to a head through gifts. Bai Heng presented you with a carefully handmade fox statue.

Jingliu gave you a small wooden sword, whittled by her own hand.

The Dragon Master, Dan Feng, forged a precious sword for you using the scales he had shed during his first molting as a child.

That rascal Teng Xiao simply swiped two jars of your finest wine.

Jing Yuan, bless his heart, gave you a thrush in a cage, telling you that you should get out and take more walks like an old man.

You were genuinely pleased with Jing Yuan’s thoughtful gift. But, as expected, the unexpected happened. For his innocent gesture, Jing Yuan was subjected to a combined, brutal beating from the other three.

Time flowed on, and little Jing Yuan grew up. He was now a proud member of the Cloud Knights, a frequent and formidable presence on the battlefield.

This year, you found yourself traveling to the Xianzhou Zhuming with Bai Heng and the others. You hadn’t wanted to go, but Teng Xiao had literally hugged your leg, wailing that he couldn’t get away and that the Luofu had been acting far too ostentatiously lately.

“If you aren’t there to hold down the fort, the people of the Luofu will be bullied!” he had pleaded. Since he begged so earnestly, you naturally agreed.

Mostly because if you hadn’t, he looked ready to wipe his snot all over your pant leg.

And in that moment, you had a revelation, discovering another essential quality required to become a General: utter, unadulterated shamelessness.

You reflected that your own disciple, Jingliu, despite her white hair, lacked the shameless potential to be a General. Your grand-disciple, on the other hand… he had it in spades. He was already quite shameless and frequently schemed against others. You could see that Teng Xiao was likely grooming him to be the next General.

During your stay on the Xianzhou Zhuming, you met a short-lived species craftsman named Yingxing. He was a shy, somewhat insecure young man.

You offered him some simple words of comfort, explaining your deep understanding of the advantages of both the short-lived and long-lived species. After all, the longer one lived, the more one tended to rely on conservative, time-tested strategies. While these methods might guarantee a certain level of success, they lacked innovation and were easily countered by clever opponents.

Bai Heng, meanwhile, activated her social butterfly mode, chatting endlessly with Yingxing. She even dragged you along to visit him often. Though you were technically retired, your fame throughout the Xianzhou Alliance was still widespread.

During these visits, you also taught the young craftsman a few sword techniques.

It was fortunate that Jingliu was not there. Had she been present, she would likely have been consumed by envy, jealousy, and resentment. When you had taught her the sword, you had been nowhere near this gentle.