The prosperity of the Earth City now surpasses even what it was during the first wave of celestial calamity.
The close exchange between the Sky City and the Earth City is reflected in many aspects.
Aside from the colossal expenditure of manpower and resources to replicate the Sky City’s divine craftsmanship in architecture, even clothing styles take cues from the Celestial Race.
For instance, recently, many people on the streets have been wearing bright red floral-patterned cotton jackets, their gaudy colors dazzling to the eye.
As a transmigrator, Li Mo found it rather odd.
But the people of the Earth City called it a trend, and some of his peers even mocked him for having no taste.
The lantern market stretched like an ocean, the crowd dense as rain.
“Who knows when I’ll see such a lantern festival again?”
Li Mo felt a mix of nostalgia and reluctance in his heart, yet it was overshadowed by a stirring excitement.
Once he stepped beyond these gates, the world would be vast and boundless—a brand-new realm.
Perhaps this was the kind of emotion every young man felt when first venturing into the world.
As he walked through the lantern market, before he could even cross it, he heard a vendor hawking nearby:
“Come take a look! Genuine goods here—blessings for favorable weather, ward off evil and misfortune!”
The vendor was selling masks, vibrant and distinct in design.
This was probably the earliest form of idol merchandise...
A sizable crowd had gathered around.
“This one depicts Emperor Jiang of the Celestial Race. Legend says he wielded a divine sword, born with double pupils that could perceive the finest details.”
“And this is the Windgrace Noble. She is the goddess of the winds, and the floral cotton jacket I’m wearing now is inspired by her preferred style.”
“What about this one?”
Li Mo stepped forward, pointing at the pristine white jade mask adorned with a crescent moon pattern at the top.
“Young master, you’ve got excellent taste! This is my proudest creation!”
The vendor puffed out his chest proudly.
“This is the Frostmoon Immortal, the most enigmatic and noble among the Celestial Race.”
“There’s no such thing as a Frostmoon Immortal—isn’t that just a made-up tale?” someone scoffed, thinking the vendor was inflating the price with tall tales.
But the vendor solemnly replied, “She exists. In my youth, I was a border guard. The day the southern gate was breached, had she not descended from the heavens, how could we be here today, drinking and celebrating?”
“He’s telling that story again.”
“Boss, you’ve been saying this since I was a kid. Now my own child can fetch soy sauce, and you still haven’t sold that mask.”
“Probably just another scam. Too bad there’s no gullible fool with deep pockets to believe him.”
The crowd laughed at him, the atmosphere lively and amused.
But who would have thought? The gullible fool with deep pockets had arrived.
“I’ll take it. How much?” Li Mo asked.
When traveling the martial world, sometimes one had to act pragmatically.
Having a mask might come in handy.
...Well, it definitely wasn’t because he genuinely liked it and couldn’t leave without it. Little Li justified to himself, patting the two hundred taels of silver in his pocket.
Surely it wouldn’t cost that much?
The vendor said, “One hundred taels for a chance to solve a riddle. Guess correctly, and the mask is yours.”
“A hundred taels just for a chance, not even to buy it outright? No wonder it’s still here.”
“Boss, you’ve raised the price—last year it was fifty. Are you trying to cheat a novice?”
“Young hero, don’t mind him. There are plenty of mask sellers on this street.”
Everyone urged him not to fall for it.
But after a moment’s hesitation, Li Mo handed over the silver—after all, he hadn’t seen another mask like this on his entire journey.
“Excellent! Please pick a lantern, young master.”
The vendor beamed as he took the money.
Li Mo scanned the lanterns briefly when a sudden breeze caused one to sway slightly. He pointed at it on impulse.
“This one.”
[Mist scatters in disarray, emerald tangles around the cliffs.]
The vendor turned the lantern, revealing the riddle.
Given the hundred-tael price tag, the crowd pondered intently, yet no one could crack it immediately.
Li Mo wasn’t particularly skilled at riddles either.
But strangely, perhaps because he had encountered a similar puzzle in his past life, the answer surfaced in his mind instantly.
Before he could speak, however, a voice suddenly whispered in his ear:
“The character ‘Phoenix’s Huang.’”
The voice was clear and gentle.
“Huang?”
Li Mo blurted out, startled. It was the same answer he had thought of.
He turned instinctively, but there was no trace of the speaker.
Even stranger, no one else around seemed to have heard the voice—they all remained oblivious.
Had he been the only one to hear it?
“Young master is truly brilliant to solve it so quickly. It seems this item was fated for you.”
True to his word, the vendor handed over the mask without hesitation.
“Ah… thank you.”
As the mask settled in his hands, Li Mo marveled at its smooth texture and exquisite craftsmanship—its value far exceeded a mere hundred taels.
Yet he still couldn’t figure out who had whispered the answer to him.
Lost in thought, he absentmindedly left the stall, heading toward the city gates.
He pondered—had he ever heard a voice like that before?
None came to mind. None were as pleasing to the ear.
Had he developed auditory hallucinations at such a young age?
After walking for a while, still no closer to an answer, he suddenly bumped into something cold yet resilient.
A veil fluttered down with the wind.
Along with it came an intoxicating fragrance, lingering in the air.
“Did I just bump into someone?”
Li Mo instinctively reached out, but the mischievous veil danced away on the breeze, swiftly landing in the river.
“My apologies—”
“It’s fine.”
That voice—
Li Mo looked up, then froze, speechless.
The owner of the veil was a woman of ethereal grace, her demeanor cool and detached.
She wore an indigo-blue plain dress, standing in the night, yet even the simplest attire seemed transcendent on her.
Oddly, a chubby doll hung at her waist, adding a touch of earthly charm to her otherworldly presence.
Little Li now understood what it meant to be tongue-tied. His gaze locked onto her jade-like features, his heartbeat erratic.
Was it because her beauty was too breathtaking?
And why did his neck suddenly feel so itchy?
His hand, as if with a will of its own, twitched toward her.
“Frostmoon Immortal…”
“Hmm?”
“No—I meant this.”
Li Mo raised the mask in his hand.
“I accidentally lost your veil. How about I give you this as compensation?”
Her eyes curved with amusement. “Very well.”
Li Mo watched as she donned the mask—it fit perfectly, revealing only the lower half of her face, her delicate crimson lips.
“How do I look?”
“Though I am a man of principle, I must say, the Frostmoon Immortal herself could be no more striking.”
“Gifting something so precious upon our first meeting, and with such sweet words…”
The transcendent woman smiled, like moonlight breaking through clouds, shining for him alone:
“Did you rehearse this before setting out, planning to charm every pretty maiden you meet on your travels?”
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
m back to his original world. In the end, he realized he had overthought things. [Hey, why is Shen Manni, the female lead, acting strange? Shouldn't she be fawning over the male lead at this point?] [Zhou Qiaoqiao, are you sick? Weren't you supposed to break off your engagement today?] [Damn it! An Youyi, please do your job as an undercover agent and sell my information to the protagonist, you idiot!] ... At this moment, Xu Mo himself didn't know that these female leads had already heard his inner thoughts. Then they decided not to play by the rules. Xu Mo: Please respect my profession as the big villain!
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
