Chapter Ninety-Four: Listen for Yourself

“Xu Zhe, are you ready yet?”
“Almost.”
“How much longer?”
“I’m done now.”
Xu Zhe closed his notebook, slipped it into his storage ring, and once more turned his gaze to Gu Jia’er.

“One more thing—the clue to the deserted island, is it really hidden within the Valley of the Buried Immortals?” he asked.

“No, although they didn’t reveal much, Wang Jianguo did mention that we need to pass through the Valley of the Buried Immortals to reach a stretch of sea. In that sea, there’s a gate. Pass through that gate, and we’ll find the answers we’re after,” Gu Jia’er replied.

“A stretch of sea beyond the Valley of the Buried Immortals…” Xu Zhe frowned, pulled out his notebook again, and jotted down the new information.

With his prodigious memory, he hardly needed to make notes; yet when it came to crucial details, Xu Zhe preferred to play it safe. Recording them could never hurt.

Gu Jia’er rolled her eyes in secret.

Hmph, what a clumsy act. Still pretending to take notes?

Forget it. He’s handsome, after all, and risked his life to rescue me. If he wants to take advantage a bit, it’s not a big deal. But if he wants anything more, not a chance—unless he makes it official!

“As for the other eleven people, I don’t have any clear information. But what I do know is that Wang Jianguo disappeared. Very few, if any, know he entered the Valley of the Buried Immortals. He’s been missing for three hundred years. Could he have already found the clue to the deserted island—or even a way back to Earth?” Xu Zhe finished his notes and spoke, offering a reasonable conjecture.

He believed that since they had all been sent to the Azure Sky Domain by the sleep pods, there must be a way to return.

Though he wasn’t particularly interested in returning to Earth, he was very intrigued by the mysterious master behind the deserted island.

“You mean Wang Jianguo and the others have already returned to Earth?” Gu Jia’er blurted out, astonished, and a little envious.

“It’s just a slim possibility. But I don’t think it’s that simple. If Wang Jianguo had made it back, would Li Chungang really have done nothing for all these years? That doesn’t add up,” Xu Zhe said, shaking his head.

Though he said that, he had already dismissed the idea in his heart—the chances were far too slim.

“Still, I’d rather hope that they already made it back. At least that would prove there’s still a chance to go back and see it again,” Gu Jia’er murmured.

“It’s been so many years. Friends and family from before are long gone. The world itself would be unrecognizable. What meaning is there in going back?” Xu Zhe asked calmly.

“There is meaning,” Gu Jia’er answered without hesitation.

“Seems you’re someone who values feelings,” Xu Zhe said politely, though his thoughts remained pragmatic.

After all, even before their crossing, human recorded civilization only spanned a mere five thousand years. Now, ten thousand years had passed. Given the pace of Earth’s civilization and technological development, it was almost unimaginable what it might have become.

Either it had grown impossibly advanced, or humanity had perished. Either way, there would be no trace of the past to find.

Gu Jia’er fell silent.

Xu Zhe did not pursue the topic any further.

Everyone has the right to choose their own life and goals; what seems trivial to one may be of utmost importance to another, and vice versa. Only by respecting others’ paths can one earn their respect in return.

“Xu Zhe, do you really think this world is better than Earth?” Gu Jia’er suddenly asked, a probing question that cut to the soul.

Xu Zhe silently shook his head.

It was a question laden with philosophy—a classic case of pointless existential brooding.

We’re already here, so what’s the use in thinking about it? Even if this world is harsher than Earth, so what? In the end, we still have to survive here.

Xu Zhe answered coolly, “Honestly, I don’t care whether this world is better or worse. I only care if I am doing well. Not materially, but in terms of my own self-judgment and understanding. No matter how bad the world is, I won’t try to change it or swap it for another one. As long as I remain true to myself and preserve that inner goodness, that’s enough.”

Gu Jia’er’s eye twitched; she shot Xu Zhe a look and fell silent.

She’d only wanted to pass the time with some harmless chit-chat, and here he was, elevating the conversation to a whole new philosophical plane. She was in no mood for such high-minded talk.

“All right, I need to think about condensing my Golden Core. Don’t disturb me, and make sure you recover from your injuries as well,” Xu Zhe said, closing his eyes, his face a mask of indifference.

He felt Gu Jia’er’s questions had an ulterior motive—she was clearly trying to deepen their mutual understanding through such life discussions.

Such conversations often led to deeper emotional resonance, and from there, it was only a short step to romance.

Love often began just like this.

So it was best to nip it in the bud.

Gu Jia’er stared in disbelief, then grew furious.

This scoundrel—after getting what he wanted, he’s just going to ignore me?

He’s already in sage mode?

He actually told me not to disturb him? I’m a powerful cultivator in my own right! If not for him rescuing me, I wouldn’t even be speaking to him.

And I haven’t even done anything, yet I’ve been rejected twice for no reason.

The more she thought, the angrier she became.

Gu Jia’er glared at Xu Zhe for a long moment, but when her gaze fell on his clean, handsome face, her anger faded quickly.

Rejected? So what? In the end, isn’t he still under my control?

Smugly, Gu Jia’er basked in her sense of superiority, regained her composure, and closed her eyes to absorb the ambient spiritual energy and heal her wounds.

Xu Zhe, however, felt quite uncomfortable.

He suddenly remembered he was being pinned down by someone who hadn’t bathed in over three hundred years—a rather distressing thought!

There was no odor, and even a faint fragrance, but it didn’t change the fact that she hadn’t bathed in centuries!

Oh well, the gold-devouring ants are already retreating. Once they’ve cleared out, I can quickly go condense my Golden Core and then rush back for a bath.

The thought of bathing filled Xu Zhe with motivation.

As long as he succeeded in condensing his Golden Core, he could finally take a bath—what bliss!

…

Meanwhile, on the frontier battlefield of the Southern Heavens Continent.

Chu Xiaotong lounged in a large chair, her long legs crossed atop the table. Her fiery figure was as bold as her temperament.

At that moment, she frowned deeply, her mood foul.

“It’s been seven days already. Is that kid ever coming out?”

“Unbelievable—he’s being reckless. That’s not a place for him to just barge into.”

“Wang Jianguo and the others vanished without a trace after entering that place years ago.”

“But back in the Stoneflame Secret Realm, that kid could come and go as he pleased through the revived Burial River. The poisonous mists of the Valley of the Buried Immortals probably won’t harm him, right?”

“Ugh, it’s infuriating! He ignores the perfectly good Southern Heavens Continent and keeps wandering around in the Eastern Qian and Western Kun Continents. He’s clearly doing this just to annoy me.”

“How did I end up with such a troublesome childhood friend? He’s a constant headache!”

“I really don’t get it. Lin Keyi nowadays annoys me, but back then she was a true goddess. How could she have set her sights on that kid?”

Buzz!

At that moment, the jade communication talisman on her table suddenly vibrated and lit up.

It was an incoming message from an elderly man, bald and grinning foolishly in his avatar, making a peace sign.

“Old man, how did it go? Is everything settled?” Chu Xiaotong answered the call, her tone irritable.

“Hey, Chu Xiaotong, do you have any respect for your elders? How dare you speak to your master like that?” came the old man’s immediate rebuke from the talisman.

“Speak plainly,” Chu Xiaotong replied coldly.

“Heh, little Chu, it’s all been taken care of. The council won’t be troubling you for now. But today, I have something I want you to listen to.”

“What is it?”

“Sigh, it’s hard to explain. I’ll just send it to you—you’ll understand.”

With that, the old man hung up.

Soon after, a voice message appeared on Chu Xiaotong’s phone.

She frowned. Was it someone from the council cursing her?

That old man had a habit of recording such things just to annoy her.

Still, since he’d bothered to call, it was probably important.

She hesitated, then pressed play.

“Chu Xiaotong…” Xu Zhe’s voice came through immediately.

Chu Xiaotong’s eyes widened in shock, her face changing. Her first thought was—no, could this be Xu Zhe’s final message?

“I want to go hiking with you.”

She froze. What the hell? After all I’ve done for you, and you want to go hiking?

“No, I won’t pretend anymore. I’ll just say it—I miss you. I’ve missed you so much my hair’s falling out, and my spirit’s in tatters…”

Listening to the entire message, Chu Xiaotong was left utterly dumbfounded, staring blankly ahead, her mind a complete blank.

Xu Zhe, oh Xu Zhe. I treated you as a brother, and you…

…

[Second update from the author, though late, it always comes. Please vote for the novel!]