Chapter 63: This Young Master Suffers Emotional Damage

The White Tyrant crossed his arms. “It sounds like some made-up bullshit.”

Chen Haoran looked at Lan Fen. “Is he…?” He waved at the White Tyrant.

“Yes,” said Lan Fen without a shred of hesitation.

“Right, well, whatever it is, it’s the power I somehow found myself with. So long as I select a suitable being to connect to, then whatever I give them as a gift, I will receive back a hundred times better.”

There was a pregnant pause in the air. Chen Haoran couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Lan Fen would have already guessed the broad strokes of it, and by this point, he trusted her enough to tell her, but he was still laying bare his greatest trump card. It was hard not to feel a little nervous.

The White Tyrant folded his arms and drummed his fingers along his bicep. “That’s it?”

“What?”

“Is that all it does?” he demanded.

“Oh… well, it also stores the rewards so that I can summon them whenever I want.”

“And this power was the reason you were acting like a moron,” the White Tyrant mused. He gave Chen Haoran a once-over. “Well… 25% of the reason, I suppose.”

Chen Haoran looked at Lan Fen. “Does he..?”

“Yes,” Lan Fen said, with an air of long-suffering. She sat down in a meditative pose. “It explains how you kept acquiring so many resources. I had assumed you found an old cultivator’s inheritance or a storage treasure that required some sort of exchange before you could take out the items within. Am I correct in saying I was your original connection?”

“Yes, ever since our wedding.”

Lan Fen hummed. “So our marriage created the bond, and the divorce dissolved it.” She looked at Phelps. “So you married the sloth?”

Chen Haoran choked.

The White Tyrant gave Lan Fen a serious look. “No discrimination.”

They stared at the White Tyrant in disbelief.

“The universe is big enough for everyone,” he said. He paused and cocked as if ruminating over what he just said. “Except for you people. Stay here and turn into dust, for all I care.”

“Right… well,” Chen Haoran said. “I didn’t marry the sloth. He’s my pet. He’s got a collar and everything.”

“I see,” Lan Fen slowly responded, her eyes practically drilling holes in the White Tyrant.

“Do you have a problem?” The White Tyrant asked, completely ignoring Lan Fen.

“Well, no, it’s just… I thought there would be more… I dunno shock?” He’d been expecting surprise, outrage, disbelief, not… this non-reaction. Lan Fen he could understand. She’d already guessed the basics of it long ago and was really only confirming her suspicions. Phelps was a sloth. It would be weirder if he did have a reaction. The White Tyrant… well, he seemed genuinely curious and pushy about it. “It’s a pretty powerful ability, after all, isn’t it?”

“Do you realize how pathetic you sound?” The White Tyrant asked. “Look here, moron, I’m 30 thousand years old. When I had a body, I was among the second highest realm of cultivation. I destroyed solar systems for a living. I’ve seen too many talents and special abilities in my lifetime. I’ll give you power points for uniqueness but compared to destroying planets or breaking the limits of cultivation, you’re just…” He waved his hand. “An up-jumped merchant by comparison? A resource collector? You have a power that’s good at turning trash into decent trash, and that really only shows its worth when you get your hands on the resources everyone else is already competing for. I’ll admit that being able to quantify the value of materials is a bit interesting, though.”

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Chen Haoran felt his head like his head was spinning. Was his power actually weak? It was impossible. There were plenty of people who’d kill to have it. What was wrong with having a lot of resources? And what about blowing up a planet? He could make a treasure that could only destroy one planet and destroy a hundred! As a matter of fact, who wanted to even destroy planets anyway? That was so wasteful. He felt unsteady on his feet. Lan Fen came to help him sit down.

“Can stronger cultivators cause mental damage just by talking?” He asked when he was sitting and feeling steady again. “Or is that just the near-death experience talking?”

“Do not mind him. You have a very envious power,” Lan Fen assured him. “The White Tyrant has always spoken like this ever since I awoke him the night the assassins attacked.”

Chen Haoran frowned. That was far too specific a reference to be made off-hand. It did fit, though. That was the first day Lan Fen displayed her Inventory space. Now that he thought about it, The White Tyrant was probably the one doing Lan Fen’s insane feats of sensing. What was she getting at, though?

He turned to Lan Fen in shock. The White Tyrant was only talking about resources. He didn’t know his power could improve techniques as well. After all, he wasn’t awake when he gave Lan Fen the manuals the first time. Lan Fen winked at him and smiled mischievously. It was a look he’d never seen on her before. Just what had the White Tyrant put her through?

Should he say something?

He looked at the bragging White Tyrant.

He would wait—no reason to waste Lan Fen's help keeping that aspect of his power a secret right now.

—————

Over the next few days, he stayed in Lan Fen’s Silver Ring space, as he had taken to calling it after learning where it came from. Because of his injuries, it was too much of a risk for him to enter the cavern until he recovered completely. Unsurprisingly being trapped in a pure white space with only a sloth and a crank old ghost man for company wasn’t really the most stimulating activity. Phelps was, of course, a joy if a bit sad he had no water to swim around in, but the White Tyrant certainly lived up to his name. After 30 millennia of living, he had certainly refined his sharp tongue into a lethal technique of its own.

Even after the rather terrible first impression, Chen Haoran thought he could glean some more information about the cultivation world from the superior cultivator. The hints the White Tyrant had dropped about the wider universe were especially tantalizing. Unfortunately, he had underestimated the stubbornness of a 30 thousand-year-old man. Trying to get the White Tyrant to talk about anything useful was like trying to squeeze blood from a rock if that rock could also open its mouth and start yelling profanities about your mother.

Some jokes were truly multiversal.

It wasn’t like he was trying to have the man teach him or anything, either. Although, admittedly, he tried. Lan Fen had confided that even after shocking the White Tyrant with her talent on multiple occasions, it still wasn’t enough for him to tell her the higher secrets she craved. She was left with raising her cultivation level and competing in various trials hidden within the mists of the Silver Ring space that the White Tyrant had created before dying.

When Lan Fen wasn’t around, she was wandering the cavern, destroying the Lan family camps and killing as many cultivators as she could before Patriarch Lan appeared to prepare her killing stage. For safety, he didn’t want to be anywhere near Patriarch Lan when he entered the cavern. On the other hand, he was truly curious to see what Lan Fen had prepared that gave her so much confidence in facing her grandfather. Now that he knew she was training under a super-ancient cultivator and equipped with various Heaven-rank techniques, he realized his estimation of her strength was way off.

Of course, it was a shame that he couldn’t gift the techniques to Phelps, and it wasn’t just because Phelps wouldn’t see it as a gift.

In an effort to not alert the White Tyrant, he had attempted to ask through elaborate hand gestures and sheer force of will if Lan Fen could share the technique with him. Even if he couldn't use the cultivation method her other techniques were well within his ability to use. By some miracle, Lan Fen had perfectly understood what he was asking for and merely shook her head.

“Do you think that man would let his techniques be so easily transmitted?” she asked.

He had the feeling she didn't just mean the White Tyrant would physically stop her from doing that. He knew Lan Fen well enough that she would have been the first to suggest Gifting his techniques were it possible.

That night the White Tyrant flashed him a particularly disdainful sneer, so Chen Haoran introduced him to his preferred sign language back on Earth. Thankfully, by that point, he had recovered enough to finally leave the Silver Ring space because he was sure the White Tyrant would do his best to burst his eardrums with his roaring. Now to avoid one dangerous old man, he had to do his best to survive a different one.

Patriarch Lan had returned.

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