Chapter 87: Master Su Wu [2]

After a restful sleep, Yan Yu awoke the next morning feeling invigorated and refreshed. The design of Su Garden seemed to have been crafted with careful attention to feng shui, perhaps even by a master. While it might not guarantee wealth, it certainly ensured good health. Yan Yu found it curious—if Old Master Su had lived in Su Garden for so many years, what illness could he possibly suffer from that would require even Su Han to come home to visit him?

With nothing pressing to do, Yan Yu changed into clean clothes and went downstairs to practice a set of Tai Chi.

His mastery of Yin-Yang techniques was passed down from his teacher, Lin Xuan, but his skill in martial arts came from his second mother. He started practicing horse stance at the age of three, could perform a complete Tai Chi routine at five, and by eight, he had fully integrated fist and leg techniques. By ten, he was capable of sparring with adults.

Now, while he couldn't take on a hundred opponents at once, he could easily handle ten. Ordinary martial arts were taught to him by his second mother, but she always emphasized the importance of this particular Tai Chi routine, reminding him to practice it weekly, no matter what.

Counting the years, Yan Yu had been practicing Tai Chi for over a decade. Though it appeared simple, the routine was imbued with profound principles. Despite his diligent study, Yan Yu had only grasped a fraction of its essence, a testament to the boundless wisdom of those who came before, and the depth of ancient Chinese culture.

Even that small fraction had enabled Yan Yu to comprehend the mysteries of Yin and Yang, bringing him great benefit.

After completing the routine, a light sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead, but he felt even more energized.

He withdrew his fists, stood upright, and let his breath sink to his dantian.

After a long moment, he exhaled a turbid breath. When he opened his eyes, it seemed as though dragons danced in them, shining with golden light.

Clap… clap… clap…

Suddenly, slow applause sounded beside him. Yan Yu turned to see an elderly man in white standing behind him, though he hadn’t noticed when the man had arrived.

The old man had white hair and a youthful face, his eyes bright and spirited. To Yan Yu’s discerning gaze, the elder stood firmly rooted, his walk evoking the strength of a tiger descending a mountain—clearly, he was no stranger to martial arts.

“Young man, your Tai Chi is impressive. You must have practiced for many years?” the elder asked with a smile.

Yan Yu scratched his head sheepishly. “I started young. It’s clear you are a practitioner yourself. I fear I’m showing off before a master.”

“You’re too modest. Judging by your skill just now, you could be considered a Tai Chi master yourself,” the old man sighed. “Tai Chi is one of the treasures of our martial heritage, but nowadays it’s becoming too commercialized. Those so-called masters only learn its surface, then embarrass themselves and tarnish Tai Chi’s reputation—truly infuriating.”

“No matter how others may sully its name, Tai Chi remains Tai Chi. Those who seek its path will understand; those who do not, what does it matter?”

The old man paused, then burst into hearty laughter. “I never expected, after living so long, to be taught by a youngster. But you’re right—I’ve been too concerned with worldly opinions.”

Yan Yu laughed along, but when he heard the old man say his name was Su Wu, his laughter abruptly ceased. This old man was Su Han’s grandfather—the patriarch of the Su family?

Wasn’t he supposed to be gravely ill, barely surviving past his eightieth birthday? Looking at him now, he seemed robust enough to live to a hundred without difficulty.

“Young man, what is your name?” Su Wu asked.

Yan Yu replied honestly, “Yan Yu.”

“Yan Yu? I don’t recall hearing your name. Are you on the guest list?” Su Wu frowned slightly. It wasn’t suspicion—he simply found it odd that such a talented young man, surely from a distinguished background, was unfamiliar to him.

Yan Yu felt awkward, but just then, his savior arrived. Su Han emerged from a nearby path. “Grandpa! …Hmm? Yan Yu? How did you two…”

“Han’er, you know this young man?” Su Wu asked.

“Ah? He…he’s the boyfriend I mentioned to you yesterday.” Su Han, thinking Yan Yu had offended her grandfather, gave him a meaningful look. “This is my grandpa—hurry and apologize!”

It was Yan Yu’s first time meeting a friend’s elder, so he was a bit nervous and blurted out an apology.

Su Wu was momentarily surprised, then laughed heartily. “Silly boy, you haven’t done anything wrong—why apologize to me?”

“Grandpa, Yan Yu didn’t offend you, did he?” Su Han affectionately linked her arm with Su Wu’s.

Su Wu shook his head, smiling. “No, he’s a good kid. It’s rare for me to meet someone I can converse with.”

“You two? Converse?” Su Han looked at them in astonishment.

Su Wu was notorious for his temper, stern even toward Su Wentao, the family’s only male heir, except for his indulgence of Su Han. Not even outstanding young men like Ren Yuheng, adored by other elders, could win his approval.

Today, Su Wu said he could converse with Yan Yu—how could Su Han not be surprised?

Su Wu sized up Yan Yu. “Son, I’ve met many young people, but you’re the most agreeable. Since Han’er has chosen you, I hope you don’t mind if I ask about your background?”

Su Han’s heart tightened; she hadn’t expected this moment to come so soon. She silently prayed that Yan Yu wouldn’t forget her instructions from last night.

Yan Yu bowed his head in thought, then smiled gently. “To be honest, my parents died when I was young. At two years old, I was taken in by a nunnery on Mount Emei, where I was raised, only coming down into the world at eighteen.”

It was over.

Su Han’s heart sank halfway; Yan Yu’s background was so humble that nearly anyone on the streets of Lu City would surpass him. Even if her grandfather had warmed to him, that affection would likely vanish now.

Yet after hearing Yan Yu’s words, Su Wu first frowned, then muttered to himself, “Mount Emei…nunnery…”

Su Han hurried to add, “Grandpa, Yan Yu may not have a good background, but he’s kind-hearted, ambitious, and responsible. He…”

Su Wu suddenly interrupted, “Say no more. I like this young man even more now.”

“What?”

“That’s enough—I have things to attend to. As the host, you must take good care of Xiao Yu. Tonight at the birthday banquet, I’ll have Steward Mo reserve a seat of honor for him.”

With that, Old Master Su Wu clasped his hands behind his back and strolled leisurely down the garden path, leaving Su Han bewildered.

“Your grandpa isn’t as hard to deal with as you described,” Yan Yu said, smiling.

Su Han shot him a glare. “Why didn’t you follow the script I gave you?”

“You made it too complicated—I couldn’t remember it. Besides, your grandpa is so shrewd, he’d see through our lies anyway. It’s better to tell the truth and at least leave him with a good impression of honesty.”

Yan Yu spoke simply, but he had noticed the sharp gleam in Old Master Su Wu’s eyes when he mentioned the nunnery on Mount Emei.