Chapter 418: Centaurians (Please Refresh)

Li Huowang's high school grades were not good, or rather, he had never studied this stuff at all.

At this moment, having just finished his entrance exam, he sat in the principal's office—whether he could be in the same class as Yang Na depended on this.

The middle-aged principal with a balding head stared at Li Huowang's entrance exam results, his mind shattering for the first time in decades of education work.

【In the Protestant Reformation of medieval Western Europe, the reformer Calvin once said: "Through eternal and unchanging intent, God has always decided who will be saved and who will be destroyed. Discuss your analysis and views on the above passage."】 (10 points)

Logically, this question should have asked students to explain the doctrines of the Reformation; even if they couldn't answer properly, scribbling something not completely absurd should have earned a few points.

【Answer: God said he didn't give a damn about this crap, to hell with his decisions—he didn't even pay me fifty bucks for 26 hours of overtime.】

Well, it was understandable—he hadn't touched history in a long time, and a subject requiring heavy reading and memorization was naturally hard for him. Still, his attitude toward answering needed correction.

How could someone so young be so pessimistic before even entering society?

The principal picked up Li Huowang's Chinese exam paper, took a deep breath, and saw the essay topic: "Youth."

"My youth was spent in a psychiatric hospital, where I encountered true cultivation techniques: Heaven's Mystery, Ten Thousand Qi, the Root of All."

"."

If the Director of Education hadn't called him for an hour last night to talk sense into him and remind him of his administrative promotion in two years, he would never have accepted this student under any circumstances.

This was the best high school in the entire city! Did this kid actually think he could get into the elite liberal arts rocket class?!

Boss, you've got to come see what this kid wrote!

Thinking of last night's call, the principal's inner despair piled into a wall—grades were secondary; above all, this provincial special-consideration case must not be bullied on campus.

【A former psychiatric patient who killed seven kidnappers afraid of school violence?】

The principal sighed deeply—he only hoped this student wouldn't disrupt others' studies; everything else didn't matter.

【It's just an order from above.】

He tossed the Chinese exam paper—scored 25—aside, not even bothering to look at the math or other subjects below.

"Hm?"

The red three-digit number was blinding: 150?!

He stared at the paper for several seconds, rubbed his eyes to confirm he wasn't imagining it.

With astonishment, the principal flipped further.

English: 147 (Note: 3 points deducted for using British grammar in the essay), Physics: 100, Biology: 100, Chemistry: 100 (Note: The new formula inside has been submitted to higher authorities—the results will be out tonight!).

"Principal, can I go to Class Fourteen?"

"You'll report to Science Class Seven tomorrow."

"Huh?"

Confused, Li Huowang stepped out of the principal's office, disappointed—he'd asked his chat group friends for help, yet still couldn't be in the same class as Yang Na.

Su Su Tuoni Stark: "How'd it go?"

Li Huowang: "They accepted me."

Su Su Tuoni Stark: "These baby-level quiz questions couldn't stump me."

Lu Mingfei: "I'll tell the Equipment Department professors to stand down."

Song Shuhang: "I arrived too late—I thought I could help."

Li Huowang: "Thanks, everyone!"

After thanking each one, Li Huowang walked over to Yang Na and told her the admission result.

"Class Seven? That's the elite science class!" Yang Na was stunned, but still happy for him: "You've got to work hard—we can still get into the same university."

Li Huowang nodded. He didn't tell Yang Na he planned to become an esports player later—things could wait; his current priority was restoring this world to normal.

The two left school and bought a fruit basket to visit Yi Donglai and Qing Wanglai. It was strange—Yi Donglai's food poisoning aftereffects still hadn't healed; he kept getting nauseous and vomiting every few days.

But Qing Wanglai's physical condition was better than any human's—he'd already regained self-care ability.

On the bus, Li Huowang noticed the driver kept glancing at him through the rearview mirror. He stared back, expressionless.

Since being discharged, he'd noticed that every time he stepped outside, surveillance eyes followed him—maybe police, maybe enemy spies—but no matter what, he couldn't show weakness.

When Li Huowang and Yang Na got off at the city hospital, the bus driver looked baffled:

"Why's that guy behind me staring at me? Freak."

Li Huowang arrived at the Rehabilitation Department on the fifth floor of the hospital, only to see a man tied in restraints being wheeled out of an elevator by doctors and nurses down the corridor.

The man was tall and muscular—at least 1.8 meters, his beard unkempt, his face alternating between laughter and tears, his body convulsing repeatedly.

"Self-harm, broken hands. Send him to Room 519 for observation," the white-coated doctor told the head nurse: "Transferred from Kangning Psychiatric Hospital. Watch him closely."

"Why are so many psych patients having issues lately?" The head nurse's face darkened: "Understood. Call Kangning too—send a few people to guard him."

Kangning Psychiatric Hospital?!

Li Huowang stared curiously at the man, and the man turned his head toward Li Huowang—their gazes met.

Boom—boom—boom—

"It's you!!" The man struggled, screaming: "Why did you join the alien army?! Traitor!"

Aliens? Traitor? What the hell is this?

Li Huowang frowned, then suddenly realized: "You're Qian Fu?!"

Of course—the madman babbling about aliens—he was this world's Death Dao, Qian Fu!

"The Leo aliens aren't even settled yet—why are you guiding the Centaur aliens?! Why?! Why?!" Qian Fu glared at Li Huowang, then cried out:

"Turn back! It's not too late! They've started their invasion already, aaaaah!"

Where did Centaur aliens come from?!

Li Huowang stared blankly at Qian Fu—wasn't there only one Leo alien in this world?

Qian Fu's outburst terrified everyone nearby; doctors and nurses rushed forward to pin him down, afraid of touching his wounds.

"Run, Xiao Li! It's not too late to turn back!"

Qingshan was just right, lush with greenery, dense trees stretching toward the sky.

Su Lin and Meng Qi walked through the countryside, clad in simple white and black Daoist robes, disguised as wandering Daoist Priests traveling this ancient world that was similar yet different.

"It's truly daring of you to bring Ah Meng to this world," Meng Qi said with a smile. "But now that I think about it, when facing the Cheating Order of Zuowang, a thief might be unexpectedly effective."

Among the Nine Streams, the eighth tier—thievery, fraud, robbery—were never truly separate. Meng Qi found Su Lin's idea of using a thief to deal with fraudsters surprisingly sound.

"Because it would be interesting," Su Lin nodded slightly, affirming. "Wager whether Ah Meng can complete the task?"

Meng Qi said, "I'll wager that Ah Meng will cause trouble."

"Isn't that obvious?" Su Lin shrugged, stopping a cart hauling hay.

After learning about this world, Ah Meng had practically transformed into the enthusiastic big brother next door—you could see right through his thoughts.

"Gentlemen, are you seeking a ride?" The driver was an elderly man, his face weathered, yet his life cycle showed no more than forty years. "If you're headed to Yinling City, let me do you a kindness and give you a lift."

"Thank you," Su Lin and Meng Qi bowed in the Daoist greeting. They had no destination, merely wandering for now.

The driver smiled, revealing yellowed teeth.

These days, tales of gods, demons, ghosts, and monsters popped up every few days. Out on the road, it was safest to travel with Daoist Priests or Monks.

The cart traveled the imperial road, so the ride was smooth. Yet occasionally, figures from all sects and walks of life galloped swiftly toward Shangjing. Most striking was a red cart.

That cart followed them steadily, two stories high, each level bearing wooden mechanical men holding wooden mallets—the lower one drumming, the driver clad in an official robe.

"Have you two gentlemen never seen one? That's a Drum Cart. Rumor says it's used by the palace to measure distance—one drumbeat per li, one bell ring per ten li."

The driver said slowly:

"Thanks to the late emperor's grace, since this imperial road was built, our people have found life easier. The new emperor has issued benevolent edicts—we thought things would improve. But these natural disasters… may they pass soon."

The driver occasionally muttered about trivial matters, sometimes boasting about his eldest son serving in the Shangjing palace—his tone laced with pride. Meng Qi and Su Lin offered occasional compliments, and the driver's mood grew steadily better.

"Brother Zhou, where are you taking all this hay?" Meng Qi asked.

The driver's surname was Zhou, name Nianfeng.

"Ah! To Fo Bone Temple. That place collapsed before, and now they're rebuilding. Strange thing is—they didn't call on us laborers, but sent the Military Sect instead." The driver explained:

"This hay? For the Military Sect's horses. Deliver one cart of fine hay, and you get a silver coin."

"But it's hard going—this trip takes me five days."

"Fo Bone Temple," Su Lin recalled—it was where Li Huowang had encountered "Heart Muddiness" and used the Ascension.

Normally, a temple collapsing was just a collapse. Why send the Military Sect to rebuild it?

Meng Qi asked the driver, "To be honest, we're also heading to Fo Bone Temple. Could you take us, brother?"

The driver frowned. "I can, but aren't you two Daoist Priests?"

"We have deep ties," Meng Qi smiled. "Buddhism and Daoism are one family. Hearing of Fo Bone Temple's calamity, we left our sect to help."

The driver's eyes widened slightly, filled with curiosity.

"May I ask which temple you two come from?"

"Kunlun Yu Xu Pavilion."

"Heavenly Virtue Pavilion."

Su Lin and Meng Qi exchanged glances and said: "Tianyi Sect."

The driver was confused by their answers, but the Great Liang was vast—he couldn't know everything. Besides, he'd never even left Great Liang in his life.

For some reason, he felt these two Daoists weren't evil. He invited them:

"To be honest, my home is ahead in Zhoukou Village. If you two gentlemen don't mind staying the night, we'll depart at cockcrow and reach the temple before noon."

"Very well," Su Lin nodded, pulling out some copper coins. "Thank you, good man."

"No, no!" the driver refused. "Consider it a good deed. Don't refuse me, Daoist."

The driver seemed a devout believer.

Su Lin retracted the coins and nodded. "Then we're in your care, believer."

Hearing Su Lin's words, the driver beamed. He decided to kill a chicken tonight to nourish the two Daoists—and if he could get them to divine his second son's fortune, even better.

"Om Buzha! Bu Jiu Zhen Xie! Ju Lun Tuo Zheng Guang Ji Xie! Miao Ying Tong Ling Tian Jiang Ling Ji Ji Xie!"

"I shall now recite the funeral text for the departed."

"Grief for your parents, weeping for your kin, your nurturing grace runs deep."

"Morning and night you toiled, carrying burdens, only releasing your child after three years of embrace."

"To meet again, separated by the netherworld—remember your kin's grace as vast as the sea."

Ding ling ling, ding ling ling—a Daoist Priest in yellow robes, black cloth shoes, wearing a hat emblazoned with the Taiji symbol, chanted while shaking a copper bell.

In the night of Zhoukou Village, a group of mourners in sackcloth and hemp circled a courtyard, scattering copper coins and burning paper ingots, wailing.

The driver, Zhou Nianfeng, slumped on the ground, utterly drained of his former vigor.

He stared at the two coffins in the courtyard, tears streaming uncontrollably. His mouth opened wide, as if to scream or speak—but only saliva dripped from his lips onto his collar.

"Aaah. Aaah."

Those around him, three children supporting him and another woman with disheveled hair, tried to lift him from the ground.

"My eldest was reassigned to Fo Bone Temple with the Military Sect. My second son, hearing this, took some cured meat to deliver to him. But then—he vanished. They say a sinkhole opened. The eldest ran to save the younger, and ended up trapped himself."

An elderly man with a scholar's air told Su Lin and Meng Qi of the events of these days. Zhou Nianfeng, a long-distance merchant with no fixed home, couldn't be reached quickly.

"Alas, a family of four generations… perhaps heaven took pity—he returned tonight."

"So he could see his two sons one last time."

The old man shook his head and walked away, tears in his eyes, unable to bear watching further.

"Om Buzha! Bu Jiu Zhen Xie! Ju Lun Tuo Zheng Guang Ji Xie! Miao Ying Tong Ling Tian Jiang Ling Ji Ji Xie!"

Ding ling ling—the Daoist finished the eulogy, shook the bell seven times, then lit a talisman with a candle flame and cast it into the sky. The ashes scattered with the wind.

The Daoist, having finished, ignored the weeping Zhou family and walked straight to Su Lin and Meng Qi: "Disciple of the Luo Sect, Zhuo Yun, bows before you, honored Daoist elders!"

He could sense that both of them possessed cultivation, and only when he drew closer did he realize they were unfathomably deep.

A tiny infant's head, no larger than a fist, emerged from his neck: "Greetings, esteemed elders~"

Nascent Soul

Su Lin looked at the Daoist Priest and asked: "Does the Luo Sect also handle funerals?"

"Forgive my clumsiness," Zhuo Yun bowed his head and said: "The eldest son of this household was from the Martial School; he saved my life. I've returned his remains to settle this karmic debt."

Su Lin asked next: "What happened at the Buddha Bone Temple?"

"A group of outsider monks from the Buddha Bone Temple defected to the Dharma Sect," Zhuo Yun dared not conceal anything and replied truthfully: "They covet the golden bodies buried beneath the temple ruins. The Jian Tian Si is stretched too thin, so they summoned us registered personnel as well."

The Nascent Soul on his neck added: "We've trapped them. For now, they're contained."

After asking a few more questions, Su Lin nodded. Zhuo Yun bowed and took his leave, at which point Zhou Fengnian approached.

"Two Daoist priests... I have been remiss in my hospitality. Please rest in the side room. We will leave at dawn." Zhou Fengnian's eyes were clouded, his voice weak.

"Brother, aren't you still going to deliver the hay?" Meng Qi asked.

Zhou Fengnian let out a bitter laugh and glanced at the three children around him, troubled: "After arranging the funeral, we have no money left."

He turned and walked back toward the funeral hall, his steps unsteady, stumbling, as if he lacked even the strength to stand without support.

Deep into the night, the small courtyard fell silent at some unknown hour.

Su Lin entered the funeral hall, looked at Zhou Fengnian, who had fallen asleep, slipped a few silver coins and a silver note into his bosom, then turned and left.

At the courtyard gate, Meng Qi sat atop the hay-laden cart, gripping the Kuangdao Bawang Blade: "Good karmic ties come, evil karmic ties go."

Su Lin drew his long sword and said: "This karmic debt is settled—retribution fulfilled."

(End of Chapter)