Chapter 20: Chapter Twenty: An Unconventional Homecoming in Glory

In the following days, both sides lived in complete tranquility.

Gu Zhao ordered another batch of Zhu Sha, ink, and yellow paper online, like a hamster hoarding food for winter—besides cultivation, he spent all his time drawing talismans, wishing to stockpile enough to fight an entire battle.

Draw talismans, cultivate to restore qi, draw talismans again.

After all, drawing talismans consumed magic power, but using them consumed very little.

I can’t cast Meteor Rain of Fire, but wouldn’t ten thousand Fireball spells work as a substitute?

Only when Gu Zhao realized that his talismans grew stronger as his cultivation base improved did he stop, halting his warehouse-stocking frenzy.

The white fox never left; she stayed in the village to heal, often tagging along with Gu Zhao to scavenge meals, her mouth always greasy, and her first reaction upon seeing Gu Zhao was to drool.

Yet her closest companion was He Xiuniang—every night she slept beside her.

But Gu Zhao noticed the white fox’s behavior was contradictory; she alternated between showing deep affection for He Xiuniang and appearing distant, as if hovering between closeness and detachment.

The happiest of all was He Xiuniang; since her parents’ passing, she hadn’t been this joyful in a long, long time—during the day, the white fox kept her company; at night, her waiting brought rewards, each day filled with anticipation and hope.

Of course, beneath her joy lay worry—she didn’t know when Gu Zhao would leave, or whether the white fox would depart once healed.

Yet she buried her unease deep inside, meeting each day with a radiant, sunlit smile.

…

On this day, Gu Zhao returned from the other world and received a call from Zhang Hang.

“I haven’t seen you at school for days—are you really not looking for a job?” Zhang Hang asked over the phone.

“Not anymore,” Gu Zhao slumped on the sofa under the air conditioning. “I’ll just show up in June to pick up my diploma. Graduation means unemployment—I’m preparing to live off my parents.”

“Perfect!” Zhang Hang cheered. “Come shoot videos with me!”

“Again trying to drag me into your hustle!” Gu Zhao raised an eyebrow. “So energetic—did your last video get good feedback?”

“Extremely good!” Zhang Hang laughed proudly. “I gave it a small push and got tens of thousands of likes, over a thousand comments—all begging for more.”

“By the way, I tagged you in the video—I gained you a few hundred followers. You didn’t notice?” Zhang Hang asked.

“I didn’t notice. I haven’t checked my phone much these days,” Gu Zhao shook his head.

“What have you been doing all this time?” Zhang Hang asked in disbelief. “In modern society, who can live without a phone?”

Gu Zhao replied seriously, “Cultivating, ascending to heaven on clouds.”

“Come on,” Zhang Hang scoffed. “Even Daoist priests now have video accounts—some recruiting students, some preaching, some making skits, some chasing beauties—but none talk about ascending. What era are we in? Believe in science—corpse liberation and alchemy are so last century.”

Gu Zhao reached out and summoned the water cup from across the room, took a sip, and said calmly, “I don’t know if corpse liberation and alchemy are real, but spirit cultivation, qi refinement, talisman drawing, and incantations are definitely not fake.”

Zhang Hang chuckled dismissively. “You’ve been practicing for ten years and haven’t achieved anything. Your Douku account has only three hundred followers. My one video got you two hundred more. Why don’t you actually do something real to boost your followers?”

Gu Zhao felt a lump rise in his chest, speechless.

Even though he cultivated the Dao and refined his heart, he was still a young man—who doesn’t crave attention? Why start a short video account if you don’t want to be seen?

So when he first registered on Douku and uploaded his Daoist insights, he’d genuinely hoped to attract followers with the mystique of Daoist esoterica and build a lofty persona.

But he hadn’t expected that with national development and the revival of traditional aesthetics, indigenous Daoism had hitched a ride—there were countless Douku accounts like his, displaying hand seals, explaining Daoist cultivation principles.

Gu Zhao was instantly drowned in the ocean of Daoist short videos. Worse, his content paled beside stories about the Qin Province Dragon Vein battles, Henan Province Lightning Storm battles, Sakura Nation’s Summer Festival battles, and so on.

But he refused to lose face—he still sneered at Zhang Hang. “If I wanted to gain followers, I could do it in seconds.”

Zhang Hang snorted, speaking in a teasing tone. “You’re a Daoist—you’re supposed to uphold your Dao heart. If you don’t hit a thousand followers in three days, you better come shoot videos with me. Big bro’ll take you flying!”

“You take me flying? I’ll blow you into orbit!” Gu Zhao hung up, staring at his account, eyes glinting.

When he first returned from the other world, he’d wanted to reveal his power before the world—after all, wealth and honor unshown are like wearing brocade in the dark. He’d grown so powerful—how could he not show off?

But reason told him now wasn’t the time to flaunt.

He wasn’t worried about being dissected—this wasn’t decades ago; people still had some trust.

He feared that exposure would compromise his freedom, force him to deal with the authorities, and invite endless trouble.

Worse, if he revealed himself, word might reach overseas.

If he could trust domestic authorities and domestic capitalists had the desire but not the nerve to act, Gu Zhao had zero confidence in foreign powers.

The filter had shattered too completely—boomerangs flying everywhere.

So Gu Zhao still wasn’t planning to reveal himself—but who said you couldn’t show off without revealing?

Didn’t he strike a car with Palm Thunder and still no one came knocking?

Gu Zhao: (=ﾟωﾟ)ﾉ

So he grabbed his phone, crossed over to the other world, recorded a video, carefully checked it, then returned and uploaded it.

Soon, users who followed [Guang Zhao Ri Yue] saw a new video—filmed in a dense forest, the host unseen, only two hands extended before the camera, with a standard disclaimer at the bottom.

[Special effects only, for entertainment]

The next moment, the host began the demonstration.

“Previous videos explained various Daoist spells and incantations. Today, we demonstrate them in practice.”

“This spell is called Palm Thunder—a basic thunder technique of the Daoist sect.”

“Left hand forms the Heavenly Thunder Seal, right hand traces the Thunder Glyph, invoking the Heavenly Stem Yi and the Earthly Branches Wu, Wei, Shen, while chanting: Thunder and lightning chase each other, heaven and earth as eyes. The eight directions’ righteous qi, lightning flickers.”

“At this point, thunder gathers in your palm. Point your palm at your target—say, that tree ahead—and release the lightning.”

“Chi!”

“Boom!”

In the video, a flash of purple light vanished—a tree as thick as a thigh was struck, instantly snapped, charred black, then the screen went dark, ending the video.

Audience: ???