Xiao Li: Someone Took Me Home Too

"Hey, this old man suddenly feels full of energy—the more I cut, the more strength I seem to have!"

After learning Li Mo's pictographic martial arts, the village chief dove headfirst into the wheat field, treating the crops as his training partners.

"With this, we can even go hunting in the future."

"Good, as expected of something passed down by the Celestial Maiden. Why don’t we compile it into a manual and place it in the ancestral hall?"

The villagers chatted while harvesting the wheat.

"Ah, right."

At this, the village chief suddenly remembered something and cautiously asked,

"This skill was passed down to you by the Maiden... Won’t she be upset that we’ve learned it?"

The Celestials had long lifespans, so age was not judged by appearance.

"Don’t worry," Li Mo said with the aloof demeanor of a celestial maiden. "I already spoke to her, and she agreed. She doesn’t mind even if you teach others."

"Hey, Li Mo actually talked to the Maiden?"

"Our village actually has someone who can get a word in with the Celestials? That’s as rare as a scorpion’s turd—one of a kind!"

"Hahaha, Li Mo, you’re bragging! The Celestial Maiden wouldn’t seriously agree to something like this, would she? She probably doesn’t even care about such a basic skill!"

"Li Mo’s at the age where he should be settling down—maybe he’s just thinking about girls!"

The wheat field was soon filled with laughter.

Li Mo smacked his lips. It wasn’t wrong for them to think this way. Aside from the village chief, none of the villagers had ever seen a Celestial. To them, they were no different from gods.

And the village chief, who had met one, was even more awestruck.

He felt that the celestial sister was different, but he didn’t bother explaining—it was too complicated.

In any case, everyone had now learned a bit of martial arts and would slowly practice it.

According to the book he carried, the first calamity would arrive in fifty years.

This generation wasn’t used to it yet, but by the next, and the one after, the "Thousand Forms Technique" would surely flourish, and every child would be able to train from a young age.

That’s right—Ying Bing had simplified the "Thousand Forms Technique" again.

Even simplified, it was still a divine skill, divine in its infinite possibilities.

No matter your talent or what martial arts suited you, the "Thousand Forms Technique" would adapt to become the most fitting method for you.

For example, if you had the bones of a wild ox, you’d gradually train in a way resembling the "Raging Bull Force."

Passed down generation after generation, the "Raging Bull Force" would continue evolving, becoming an entirely new path.

The villagers had no idea that what they were learning could shake the heavens and earth, stirring up storms of blood in the martial world.

In fact, the moment Ying Bing finalized the new "Thousand Forms Technique," the outside world had already erupted.

Before this, divine skills were highly specialized.

Most martial arts, the more powerful they were, the stricter the requirements for practitioners.

But today, with effortless grace, Ying Bing had forged a path never before walked—one that transcended martial arts, resembling more of a fundamental law.

Even ordinary people could now train a single martial art to extraordinary heights.

And if they later acquired other skills, they could seamlessly integrate them.

This meant that even if these villagers knew nothing and simply focused on farming, future generations would still inherit a complete martial path.

With just a few words, she had shattered the barriers of martial arts.

Those present, whether highly skilled or not, were all utterly shaken.

"I almost want to abandon my cultivation and start over."

"Brother, calm down! You’ve only heard fragments—you haven’t even seen the original text!"

"What does ‘unprecedented and unmatched’ even mean? Is there anything she can’t do...?"

Amid the murmurs, the beauties on the "Hundred Flowers Ranking" wore complicated expressions.

If there was one thing she couldn’t do...

Cooking?

Spicy West Lake vinegar-braised fish scales—care to try?

"This village won’t be ordinary in the future."

"But it’s still just a small village—it won’t cause much of a stir. Without Ying Bing’s intervention, Great King Village likely won’t survive the first calamity."

"Still, this is impressive. I wonder what happened in the Celestial City’s domain to make Young Hero Li Mo be born in a human settlement."

"Right? With his speed in mastering hammer techniques, he should’ve at least started in an Earth-tier city."

The setting sun dyed the rippling wheat fields a surging crimson, like flickering wildfire or flowing tides of red.

As the day’s work ended, the women and children arrived at the fields with water and provisions. The children ran around playfully while the women handed out food and drink before everyone headed home together.

"Li Mo, come, come—eat and drink at my place."

The village chief pulled Li Mo aside, where his wife and daughter stood waiting. The girl, dressed in a floral-patterned outfit with braided hair, shyly eyed Li Mo’s sweat-drenched form.

The village chief immediately noticed his daughter’s deliberate effort to dress up.

The village’s only blacksmith—tall, strong, and reliable—he was quite satisfied with the match.

"Li Mo, a man should marry when he’s grown. Look at Little Wang and Little Zhu—they’ve got wives, kids, and warm beds. You’re still alone. You need a woman to manage your household."

"Someone already manages it for me," Li Mo said, scratching the back of his head.

The village chief was puzzled. "Who?"

The girl froze, but her father patted her shoulder, and she relaxed.

Of course—she knew every girl in the village. Li Mo wasn’t close to anyone. It couldn’t possibly be that goddess-like Celestial Maiden, right?

He must just be too embarrassed to admit it...

"She’ll come pick me up soon," Li Mo said seriously.

"Oh? Then I’ll wait with you. Let’s see which girl it is..."

The village chief chuckled, turning around—only to pause in surprise.

At the edge of the field stood a plainly dressed yet ethereally beautiful young woman, carrying a teapot in one hand and a bamboo basket in the other.

The evening breeze tousled her dark hair, and whether it was due to the playful strands or the boy reflected in her eyes, her usually cold expression softened into something tender and dreamy.

"!"

Li Mo hadn’t expected her to actually come—he’d only joked about it that morning.

Just like the village chief’s wife had done earlier, she poured him a cup of tea.

"Drink."

"Oh, okay..."

"Eat a popsicle."

As Li Mo slurped on the popsicle, he couldn’t help but ask, "Why did you come?"

"You said yesterday that you envied others," Ying Bing replied gently.

Li Mo opened his mouth.

He wanted to insist that he wasn’t that envious, that he didn’t really want someone to take him home.

But he found he couldn’t force the words out, so his open mouth just took another bite of the popsicle instead.

"Here, you have one too."

While the village chief’s daughter stood dumbfounded, another popsicle was handed to her.

"Th-thank you..."

The girl was utterly bewildered.

Then Ying Bing glanced at the torn hem of Li Mo’s clothes and asked a question that left the village beauty even more confused:

"Can you teach me how to mend clothes?"

"Why do you want to learn that?"

"I can’t let another woman manage his household for him."

"???"