Chapter 30: The Flaw in the Palm Thunder Video

“Dad, Mom, I’m back!”

Gu Zhao pushed open the front door and saw his father, Gu Qi, and his mother, Li Man, sitting close together watching TV.

Gu Zhao covered his eyes. “Did I come back at a bad time?”

Gu Qi turned around, grumbling, “We’re watching the News Broadcast!”

Li Man stood up and glanced behind Gu Zhao. “Didn’t you bring a temporary girlfriend back?”

“Aren’t I going with you to Sichuan Province?” Gu Zhao replied. “I’m planning to find a girlfriend there.”

“No way!” Li Man immediately refused. “Guangdong girls are better—you don’t need to go far.”

Gu Qi nodded in agreement. “That’s…”

He’d barely spoken one word when he saw Li Man turn back, so he quickly asked, “Cough, cough—have you eaten yet?”

“If I say I haven’t, is there anything to eat at home?” Gu Zhao asked.

Gu Qi looked at Li Man; Li Man slammed her hand on the table and sprang up. “Disrespect your mother? Say it—what do you want to eat?”

Gu Zhao instantly replied, “Hui guo rou, yu xiang rou si, shui zhu rou pian.”

Li Man clapped her hands and headed for the kitchen, calling out to the nanny resting in the side room. “Aunt Zhang, time to work!”

Li Man kept Gu Qi firmly under her thumb, and her excellent cooking was no small part of it; Gu Zhao had grown up eating Sichuan cuisine and developed a strong tolerance for spice.

On the other side, Gu Zhao put down his backpack, took off his jacket, and sat beside Gu Qi.

“There’s a sales exhibition in Lincheng this weekend—I have to go in person,” Gu Qi said.

“Mom told me,” Gu Zhao said, lying back on the sofa. “What kind of exhibition? Why’s it being held in Lincheng?”

Gu Qi ran a Chinese furniture business, based near the port, with a factory that imported various types of rosewood from abroad and hired skilled craftsmen to make and sell rosewood furniture.

But the Gu family’s several shops were all around Yangcheng, at most reaching Shenzhen; even when participating in exhibitions, they mostly stayed within the Pearl River Delta. Lincheng, however, was the capital of Wu Province—deep in the Yangtze River Delta.

“It’s a Non-Material Cultural Heritage Art Furniture Exhibition,” Gu Qi said. “There are more wealthy people in Wu and Hai Provinces, so they held it in Lincheng.”

“We’ll be showcasing Beijing-style hardwood, Shanxi-style furniture, Fujian classical furniture, and Hai Province Ming-style furniture. Getting an invitation means our Guangdong hardwood craftsmanship is being recognized!” Gu Qi said proudly.

Although the Gu family business wasn’t large, its reputation in the industry was excellent; Gu Qi had once studied under a master craftsman and, beyond being a merchant, was also a skilled carpenter.

Back then, what had won Gu Qi over Li Man was her exceptional Sichuan cooking; what had won Li Man over Gu Qi was the lifelike wooden statue of a woman he carved for her by hand.

“Dad’s awesome,” Gu Zhao gave his father a thumbs-up.

But Gu Qi clearly wasn’t satisfied—he even seemed a bit jealous. “Why not learn wood carving and furniture making from me? Why did you insist on learning Daoist arts from your grandfather? Is your grandfather’s legacy a legacy, but mine isn’t?”

“Now look—your stuff’s called feudal superstition, while my craftsmanship is recognized as national intangible cultural heritage. If you’d learned from me, you might’ve even performed on the Spring Festival Gala. What a waste.”

“The acts that get on stage are either atmospheric or rare art forms. I remember last year’s Gala featured a massive wood carving—a whole miniature world carved into a single tree. That was stunning.”

Gu Zhao gestured around them. “Our Ming and Qing furniture isn’t rare art. Strictly speaking, Mom’s Sichuan cuisine counts as intangible cultural heritage too.”

Gu Zhao gave Li Man, who had poked her head out of the kitchen, a thumbs-up. “Mom’s an artist too!”

Li Man gave Gu Zhao a thumbs-up and raised an eyebrow at Gu Qi.

Gu Qi, “….”

You're right, but as someone raised in a carpenter's family, you should at least know the basics—how could you mess up the background wood in your short video effects? Aren't you embarrassed? It's like making Sichuan food without chili peppers but using ketchup.

Gu Zhao frowned. “What short video effects?”

“Your palm lightning video,” Gu Qi said, picking up his phone, opening Doukuai, and finding Gu Zhao’s video.

It was the one Gu Zhao had labeled 【Special Effects, For Entertainment Only】—but in reality, it showed him genuinely casting Palm Thunder in another world.

“How do you even have my Doukuai account? I never showed my face!” Gu Zhao exclaimed.

Everyone knew children blocked their parents from their social circles, and rarely let them know about their short video accounts.

Mom knew his computer password, Dad found his short video account—weren’t they really undercover agents, not a cook and a carpenter?

“I’m friends with Zhang Hang’s dad, so I saw Zhang Hang’s video—he showed his face. Then I followed the trail to yours.”

Okay, that made sense—but…

“What’s wrong with my special effect?” Gu Zhao asked.

No one else knew—but didn’t he know exactly what this video was?

It was as real as it could be!

“Your special effect is well done—the lightning, the fire, the broken tree—all look authentic,” Gu Qi commented, then asked, “How much did you pay for it? Or did you use AI?”

Gu Zhao rolled his eyes. “Just get to the ‘but’ already!”

“Fine, but!” Gu Qi chuckled, emphasizing, “Where did you get the trees in this forest? You could’ve used pine, fir, even birch or camphor—but why this one?”

Gu Zhao looked at the small tree struck by lightning in the video, and the trees around it.

He didn’t recognize them, but they looked ordinary—nothing unusual.

“What’s wrong with these trees?” Gu Zhao asked.

“What’s wrong?” Gu Qi countered. “That whole grove is small-leaf rosewood. You just blasted through a tree as thick as a thigh—what do you think?”

Gu Zhao froze. “What? Small-leaf rosewood?”

“Yes, small-leaf rosewood,” Gu Qi nodded, glancing sideways at Gu Zhao. “That tree you cut down? At least a hundred years old—worth three or forty thousand.”

Gu Zhao: Õ_Õ

Although his family ran a furniture factory, the wood delivered there was already rough-processed; he’d grown up in the city and could only recognize the most distinctive trees—pine, willow, ginkgo—how could he tell different species apart?

To him, the trees in the woods behind the village were neither thick nor tall, sparse and plain—just ordinary forest trees.

So they were actually the finest wood?

Gu Qi delivered the final verdict: “You’re lucky you don’t have many fans—if any expert saw this, they’d expose you in seconds.”