Chapter 53: Chapter Fifty-Three: This World Has Problems

At dusk, the sun set in the west.

Cuicun Village, Purple Sandalwood Grove.

Bai Ke squatted beneath a tree, a clay bowl before her holding a roasted chicken; she nibbled slowly while watching Gu Zhao practice martial arts.

He Xiuniang sat beside her, her beautiful eyes never leaving Gu Zhao—he was practicing martial arts in front of her for the first time.

Gu Zhao practiced the White Crane Fist he had learned from his grandfather.

The White Crane Fist is one of the Southern Fist styles; after more than three hundred years of development, it has evolved into four distinct branches: Zong He, Ming He, Fei He, and Shi He.

But what Gu Zhao practiced was not one of these four branches—it was a lineage-specific evolution from the orthodox White Crane Fist, never transmitted outside their line, emphasizing not only form and spirit, but also intent and qi.

As he practiced, Gu Zhao imagined himself as an immortal crane, feet light and agile yet rooted firmly to the ground, hands flapping and striking like wings and beak.

At this moment, his neck was steady, shoulders relaxed, waist bound, legs moving, qi sinking into his dantian—perfectly matching the White Crane’s lightness and speed, its balance of hardness and softness, its inner tension and outer looseness; normally appearing slow and expansive, yet moving with lightning speed when activated.

“There’s a touch of Tai Chi in it,” said Daoist Yan Song.

When Gu Zhao finished, he said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He Xiuniang hurried over, offering a bowl of cooled, purified water already prepared; when Gu Zhao took it, she pulled a silk cloth from her sleeve, intending to wipe his sweat.

But after several glances, she saw no sweat on his forehead—yet she still diligently wiped the nonexistent perspiration from his temples.

Daoist Yan Song watched with amusement, then teased Gu Zhao: “Project an aura—cold, aloof, eyes sharp, voice commanding.”

Gu Zhao glanced at Daoist Yan Song. “This is reality, not a novel—where in reality do you find such a fool?”

He Xiuniang pouted and quickly reassured Gu Zhao: “Master Yan Song just wants you to carry the bearing of a Sect Master—don’t let our sect lose face out there.”

Gu Zhao froze; Daoist Yan Song looked equally stunned.

After comforting Gu Zhao, He Xiuniang immediately brought Daoist Yan Song a cup of water and softly pleaded, “Master, don’t be too strict with him—he’s kind-hearted and gentle; how could he act aloof and domineering now? Let’s take it slowly.”

Daoist Yan Song blinked, then laughed. “Good girl—you know how to speak. Gu Zhao is lucky to have you.”

He Xiuniang’s eyes curved with delight. “It’s my fortune to serve Master Gu.”

Bai Ke snorted from the side. “I’m a heavenly fox bloodline—you’re bonded with me, your future is limitless. He’s just a human mage, strong now, but…”

“I still have two five-spice roasted chickens left for you,” Gu Zhao held up two fingers, reminding her.

“With your magical lineage, you won’t be weak either—you’re worthy of being mentioned alongside me and He Xiuniang,” Bai Ke nodded.

Gu Zhao and Daoist Yan Song exchanged glances, each lost in thought.

From Xu Kongting, they had obtained the Spirit Court’s jade token; from Bai Ke, they had gleaned many details about cultivation in this world.

The most powerful beings in this world are not ghosts or gods, but demons and spirit lords.

Although mages exist here, they are not at the top of the hierarchy; even moderately powerful mages are either devotees of ghost-gods who borrow divine power, or bonded with spirit-beasts to draw upon demonic strength.

For example, the two major forces of the Da Ning Empire: the leader of the Xuanwei Divine Sect is a god; the head of the Spirit Court is a spirit lord.

As for mages who rely solely on their own cultivation, they are at the very bottom of the ecological chain—just ordinary beings. A pure mage who can match a century-old ghost is already remarkable.

Privately, Gu Zhao and Daoist Yan Song had discussed this.

“This world is not dominated by humans.”

“But it must be connected to our world somehow—otherwise, our writing and culture wouldn’t be so similar.”

“With such abundant spiritual energy, why can’t human mages cultivate into immortals?”

“There’s something wrong with this world!”

“Perhaps when our cultivation deepens, we’ll learn more.”

Bai Ke was still a white fox who had not yet taken human form; though she constantly claimed noble bloodline, she showed no great power and knew only common knowledge.

Meeting Bai Ke had already given Gu Zhao enough insight into this world—he felt fortunate.

Thinking of this, he glanced at He Xiuniang beside him, then took a green feather fan from his pack. “Here, take this.”

He Xiuniang startled, waving her hands. “No, no, this is too precious—Master should keep it.”

“I don’t need it,” Gu Zhao shook his head.

He Xiuniang currently had only the Heavenly Fox Nail as an offensive artifact, lacking defensive means; this green feather fan could summon blade-like gusts, useful for both attack and defense—perfect for her.

For Gu Zhao, the yellow talismans he used for offense and defense could already support a small-scale battle.

“Then give it to Master Yan Song,” He Xiuniang turned to him.

Daoist Yan Song stroked his beard, shook his head, and his face instantly shifted to a blue mask as he chuckled, “Do you think I lack wind?”

He Xiuniang laughed. “Master has the Taiyi Divine Wind—he certainly doesn’t lack wind.”

“So take it, Sect Master,” Daoist Yan Song shook his head, retracting the mask with a grin. “Protect yourself—he can focus on cultivation then.”

Those words flushed He Xiuniang’s cheeks red; she could no longer refuse the green feather fan.

Gu Zhao held the jade flute, troubled. “This is a good auxiliary magic treasure—but who knows how to play it?”

Daoist Yan Song raised an eyebrow and transmitted a thought directly via his Thunder Seed: “Teach those two girls back on Blue Star. They study folk instruments—they’ll know how to play.”

Gu Zhao sighed. “We’re just friends.”

“Exactly—what are you thinking?” Daoist Yan Song winked. “Can’t friends teach each other to play the flute?”

Gu Zhao: ʕ(ⓛ–ⓛ)ʔ

“But speaking of which, I really need to return to Blue Star for a while,” Gu Zhao transmitted to Daoist Yan Song. “I can’t miss my graduation ceremony, and I need to find someone to design a Daoist temple based on the terrain.”

Daoist Yan Song waved his hand. “Go, go—I’ll handle things here. I won’t let your maid get into danger. If anything happens, just contact me—we can communicate across realms.”

The Five Thunder Talisman enables communication between the two worlds; though the Thunder Seed cannot cross alone, as an Fushu of the Five Thunder Talisman, it has absorbed a trace of inter-realm energy, sufficient for cross-world communication.

Gu Zhao nodded, gave a thumbs-up. “Alright.”