Chapter 4: Can Fly

Immortal Lord Wuyang had never been comfortable in the celestial realm’s clothes. Fitting in was proving to be a challenge.

But every hardship faded into insignificance when Zhu Sheng saw the towering city buildings at the foot of the mountain.

Before coming down, he’d doubted the old monk’s claim that this was the celestial realm. Now he believed it—mostly.

There were no kings or nobles in this world. Everyone was equal, living in peace and comfort. Even children could use devices that let them speak to someone a thousand miles away. There were all kinds of mounts, too. They might not be as fast as flying on a sword, but they left ordinary carriages and horses far behind…

Even the most prosperous royal capital, with its splendid banquets and ceremonial music, couldn’t compare to this place.

Zhu Sheng walked through the unfamiliar, bustling streets without betraying a hint of emotion. Yet his mind kept returning to the golden light and the sound of the zither from just before he’d lost consciousness the day before.

Could I really have broken through at such a crucial moment…and ascended?

Immortals could pluck the moon from the sky, travel tens of thousands of miles in a breath, and live forever, free of desire. But his body still felt hunger and cold. He seemed to have become a mortal.

He brooded all the way to their destination.

Getting an official household registration for Zhu Sheng, an unregistered person, had proved easier than Xuan Kong expected. Someone was waiting for them when they arrived, and the paperwork was soon taken care of.

Little Xuan Shi tugged on Xuan Kong’s sleeve and whispered, “Master really did arrange everything ahead of time.”

Xuan Kong was surprised, too. Since when did the old monk have connections like that?

Two monks and a long-haired, handsome man made a striking group. Everyone in the lobby kept staring at them. Fortunately, Zhu Sheng, Xuan Shi, and Xuan Kong were all used to people looking their way.

Once the paperwork was done, it was time for the photo. Xuan Kong had checked on his phone beforehand and learned that men could keep their long hair for ID photos, so he hadn’t made Zhu Sheng get a haircut.

His hair was beautiful. It would’ve been a shame to cut it.

The staff member was a woman who looked younger than thirty. When it was Zhu Sheng’s turn, she took one look at him and stopped him.

“You can keep your hair long, but you’ll need to tidy it up. Your face and forehead have to be visible. And your clothes are too light-colored—you’ll need to change into something darker.”

After delivering this matter-of-fact explanation, the woman stood and handed Zhu Sheng two makeup-removing wipes with practiced ease.

“Your makeup’s too pale. Wipe your face.”

A little makeup was allowed for the photo, but his face was much too white.

It wasn’t the fake, caked-on sort of pale. His skin looked naturally porcelain-smooth. Even from this close, she couldn’t see a single pore or blemish.

His makeup was so natural, he had to be using expensive products.

Zhu Sheng hadn’t put on any makeup, so the wipes came away clean.

When the staff member stared at the spotless wipes, Xuan Kong stepped in to explain. “He isn’t wearing makeup. That’s just how he looks.”

The woman glanced at Zhu Sheng several more times, clearly taken aback. “He’s really that fair?”

In her twenty-some years, she’d met all kinds of people. She’d never seen anyone with skin so pale and flawless—not even a woman.

And he was completely bare-faced?

Zhu Sheng paid no attention to the woman’s amazement and envy. He held a blue hair ribbon and tried to gather his long hair.

But he had no idea how to tie it up.

When he’d lived in the imperial palace, the Crown Prince’s Palace had been full of attendants who waited on him hand and foot. He’d never had to dress himself or tie up his hair.

The Sword Sect had no servants. Immortal Lord Wuyang could simply summon the hairstyle he wanted with a thought.

But now he was in the celestial realm, without anyone to help—and without his spiritual power. The hair that had obediently followed the palace attendants’ hands refused to cooperate. After fumbling with it that morning, Zhu Sheng had simply tied it back however he could.

That haphazard knot wasn’t good enough for the staff member. Zhu Sheng clumsily gathered his hair and fussed over it for a long while.

After the ID photo, Xuan Kong took him straight to a nearby barber. “Wasn’t yesterday’s hairstyle done by you?”

“Yes and no,” Zhu Sheng replied.

He’d always used spells to tidy his appearance. That hardly counted as doing it himself.

Xuan Kong: “…?”

So was it or wasn’t it?

When the barber heard that Zhu Sheng wanted his hair cut short, he lamented that such beautiful hair would be a shame to lose. But his hands moved quickly, scissors and comb flashing as he worked. Before long, the haircut was done.

Xuan Kong scanned the payment code with his phone while Zhu Sheng watched in wonder.

He only has to hold up this device called a phone, and the silver is paid?

After half a day in town, the Crown Prince had learned quite a bit about the celestial realm. For instance:

The local currency was called renminbi. The device in Xuan Kong’s hand looked like a cross between a long-distance speaking instrument and a memory stone. It was called a phone.

Everyone in the celestial realm had a phone, and it could do many things.

It could send voices across a thousand miles, take pictures and videos, search for information…and now it could “pay silver,” too.

Zhu Sheng made a quiet note of it.

Unfortunately, phones were expensive. Even the cheapest ones cost several hundred yuan.

And he didn’t have a single coin to his name. He couldn’t afford one.

For the first time, the Crown Prince, who’d grown up surrounded by silk and fine food and had never worried about money, experienced poverty.

The moment the barber saw the three of them leave, he grinned and went to fetch a thin elastic band. He was going to tie up the hair he’d just cut off.

His last customer had had a lot of long, smooth, glossy black hair, in excellent condition.

It had been ages since the barber had seen hair that beautiful. He could sell the cuttings for at least four figures.

He’d hit the jackpot.

While the barber was congratulating himself, someone walked slowly into the shop.

The person stopped at the counter and tapped the surface twice with a knuckle. A cool voice followed.

“Sorry to bother you.”

A customer! The barber lifted the elastic band and smiled. “Wash or cut, sir?”

Two minutes later, the man walked out of the shop.

Once he was out of sight, the barber’s smile vanished.

“Damn it. Dressed head to toe in designer clothes, looks loaded, and still cheap as hell. His friend even came all the way over just to take that cut hair.”

“Rich people really are the stingiest. Tch!”

Xuan Shi insisted on dragging his senior into a huge discount snack store to buy treats. Zhu Sheng glanced inside at the crowd and said, “I’ll wait here.”

Xuan Kong, who was being pulled along, turned back and warned him, “You don’t know your way around. Don’t wander off. We’ll be right back.”

Zhu Sheng didn’t even have a phone and knew nothing about modern technology. Like Little Xuan Shi, Xuan Kong had already assumed he’d come from some remote, backward village. He was afraid Zhu Sheng would get lost in the big, bustling city.

Xuan Kong frowned at him. Zhu Sheng smiled. “I won’t leave. Don’t worry.”

As the two monks went into the store, Zhu Sheng stood by a road sign and lowered his eyes, thinking over how he would survive in the celestial realm.

If this really was the place where cultivators went after ascending, then he could never return to his old world.

Food, clothing, shelter, and travel all cost money here, just as they did in the mortal realm. He couldn’t live at the temple forever, eating, drinking, and lodging for free.

Since he was here, he had to make the best of it. He needed to find work.

But he’d devoted himself to cultivation all his life and hadn’t learned much else. He didn’t know what kind of job he could do…

“What’s that thing hanging off the window grille? Why is it moving?”

“Where? Oh, there really is something up there. It’s too high—I can’t see clearly without my glasses. Looks like a cat? Maybe the owner left the window open and their pet got out?”

“What cat? That’s a little kid hanging off the grille!”

“Holy shit, holy shit!”

“Oh my god, that’s so dangerous!”

“Quick, contact the kid’s family!”

The orderly crowd erupted like oil hitting water. The Crown Prince had been worrying about how to make a living, but a few screams jolted him back to attention. He looked up with the others.

Zhu Sheng had excellent eyesight. He immediately spotted the little girl gripping the window grille with both hands, her entire body hanging outside the wall. His brow furrowed.

More people gathered when they heard the commotion. A few ran upstairs, then came back shouting.

“The door’s locked! We knocked, but there doesn’t seem to be an adult inside. We can’t get in. Call the police!”

“When are the firefighters getting here? It looks like she’s about to lose her grip!”

“Quick, find a sheet or a blanket! We need people to hold it underneath!”

“Oh my god, sweetheart, hang on!”

Some people went looking for blankets. Others called the police. A few shouted encouragement to the little girl, while others filmed her on their phones. The crowd was noisy and frantic.

The girl’s face had gone red with effort. Her fingers, clutching the grille, had turned pale.

Zhu Sheng could see her clearly. She couldn’t hold on much longer.

He looked at the anxious crowd, a trace of confusion in his eyes.

“Ah—!”

“Oh my god, she fell!”

The little girl’s strength gave out, and her hands slipped free. As screams rang out, her small body plunged straight down from the building. The police and firefighters hadn’t arrived yet, and the people who’d finally found a sheet hadn’t had time to spread it out.

A few people reached up to catch her. Many others squeezed their eyes shut in fear.

At the critical moment, Zhu Sheng moved.

Chen Huai was one of the many people below with his arms outstretched, ready to catch the child. He stared up at the tiny figure, his heart in his throat.

She’s hanging from the thirteenth floor. What if we don’t catch her…?

Chen Huai’s eyes were wide, his mind blank, when he suddenly felt someone step lightly on his shoulder. The next instant, something flashed past his eyes.

Then a chorus of gasps and shouts broke out around him, along with a wave of “Holy shit!” Chen Huai’s hands shook.

He steadied himself and looked again. The little girl was gone from his field of vision.

Chen Huai: “!”

He hurriedly looked down. The girl wasn’t on the ground, but he still didn’t relax. He turned—and saw Zhu Sheng bending over to set the little girl down from his arms.

Chen Huai: “???”

What was going on?

Zhu Sheng had just put the child down when people swarmed around him, eyes shining.

“Oh my god, were you flying just now?”

“That’s more than ten stories! How did you get up there? I didn’t even see you move!”

“I got it on video! You can fly!!!”

So many people crowded around him that they nearly pressed against his body. Zhu Sheng instinctively stepped back.

Zhu Sheng: “?”

A cultivator trained in martial arts before reaching Core Formation. For Zhu Sheng, climbing a building only a dozen or so stories tall was easy, even without spiritual power. He could use the walls for leverage and reach the top without breaking a sweat.

The Sword Sect’s inner disciples could all do the same.

If this was where cultivators went after ascending, then surely everyone here could do it, too. That was why Zhu Sheng hadn’t rushed to save the little girl when he first saw her hanging outside.

But until the girl fell, he hadn’t seen anyone go up to rescue her.

Now, as he listened to the crowd excitedly insist that he could fly, Zhu Sheng was at a rare loss.

Could it be that not everyone in the celestial realm can fly?