“Don’t talk nonsense,” Tian Fangfang stuffed a grilled corn in his mouth. “How can you curse little Master Uncle like that? If you think about it carefully, the possibility of us seeing a fairy in our lifetime still exists.”

“Seventh Master Uncle’s cultivation is indeed very high,” Mu Cengxiao spoke up: “Today he took down Tan Tianxin with just one move, and he’s still so young…” At this point, his tone carried some unwillingness to admit defeat.

Zanxing understood very well. After all, Gu Baiying was such a character who appeared out of nowhere, almost stealing all the male protagonist’s main character aura. Why didn’t the original world create some obstacles to eliminate him? Just because he didn’t have the Xiaoyuan Pearl? Would it work now to dig out the Xiaoyuan Pearl and return it to Mu Cengxiao? But how would she dig it out?

While she was lost in these wild thoughts, she heard Mendong continue: “That’s natural. My Master Uncle is Qinghua Xianzi’s bloodline, so he naturally inherited Qinghua Xianzi’s talent. It’s impossible for him not to be excellent.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” Zanxing poked at the oyster shell in front of her: “Sometimes living under a halo is a more exhausting thing.”

Mendong: “What do you mean?”

“Just like how you feel that since Seventh Master Uncle is Qinghua Xianzi’s son, doing his best is only natural, and not doing his best means he hasn’t worked hard enough. Isn’t that like putting shackles on someone? A person who can only succeed and never fail—that sounds rather pitiful.” She bit into the grilled fish, “People work hard cultivating, painstakingly going into seclusion, but when they do well, it’s all attributed to talent. When they don’t do well, they face everyone’s criticism, because countless eyes are watching you.”

The child frowned: “It’s because my Master Uncle is excellent that others watch him. And being the center of attention—isn’t that something to be proud of? Being ignored is what’s pitiful.”

“Alright then,” Zanxing smiled, “Have you ever seen Gu Baiying fail? Have you seen him cry? Have you seen his weak side?”

“None of what you’re saying could ever happen!” Mendong said indignantly: “My Master Uncle would never be like that!”

“Exactly.” Zanxing smiled, “As long as one is human, there will be times of weakness and sadness. You haven’t seen it because your Master Uncle has hidden that side. Precisely because too many people are watching him, even if he wanted to hide, there’s nowhere to go. Once you all get used to this, even if he wanted to show a moment of weakness in front of others, he couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Junior Brother,” she touched Mendong’s head, “You’ll understand in the future that the other side of a halo is pressure.”

Mendong wrinkled his nose and said nothing.

In front of the small stall, the young man stopped, holding a wooden box containing rock sugar syrup, standing behind the pavilion, with his gaze falling on the speaker.

Wind blew from the distant sea, carrying the unique humid saltiness of seawater. The pavilion was full of cultivators who had come out to enjoy the night, bustling everywhere, yet only the woman’s words fell clearly into his ears.

Casual joking words, yet like a sword, they accurately pierced the secret soil at the bottom of his heart.

As long as one is human, there will be times of weakness and sadness.

Had he ever had such times? Perhaps he had, but that was too long ago, so much so that he had forgotten, and could no longer do it.

The young man’s figure in the night seemed extraordinarily lonely for a moment. His vermilion hair ribbon, bathed in moonlight, was like a flower blooming to its peak—exquisitely beautiful.

Yet his expression was very lonely.

A local fish-selling girl was enchanted by this young man’s handsome appearance, walking while turning back to look, holding a large blue fish. Then she saw a child in the distant pavilion waving toward this direction: “Master Uncle, you’re back!”

He paused, gripped the wooden box in his hand tightly, and walked toward the pavilion.

……

This meal was thoroughly enjoyable. Even the aloof Meng Ying moved her chopsticks a couple of times. After eating and drinking their fill, Gu Baiying paid the spirit stones, and everyone planned to walk along the beach back to the “Immortal Seeking Sea” inn.

The long beach connected to the distant horizon, and suddenly, a loud bang was heard. Looking up, they saw a firework bloom in the endless, heavy night curtain. Countless brilliant stars shone in the sky, then rapidly fell into the distant sea. The bright moon hung in the deep blue night sky, while the lit fireworks were like a dream, illuminating the entire night of Li’er Kingdom.

The cultivators on the beach all became excited. In the sects, they practiced ascetically day after day, living lives of abstinence and few desires. It was rare to be away from home, where everything was lively and romantic.

“Are there even entertainment programs?” Zanxing thought. Li’er Kingdom’s tourism programs were indeed rich and colorful. Even without the secret realm, just the natural scenery and cultural atmosphere here would be worth several more visits.

“When the secret realm opens, Li’er Kingdom sets off fireworks on the west coast every night,” Meng Ying looked into the distance. “It’s also to welcome the cultivators coming for the secret realm.”

Tian Fangfang pointed into the distance: “Why are there so many people over there?”

Zanxing looked in the direction he pointed and saw many cultivators gathered together at the front of the long beach, not knowing what they were looking at. After walking a couple of steps in that direction, she could see clearly—it was a statue.

This statue was very tall, depicting a young man wearing robes and a golden crown, holding a treasure sword with a heroic bearing. The entire statue was carved from gold—she didn’t know if it was pure gold or gold-plated—and the man’s eyes were beautiful sapphires. Zanxing was stunned at first glance. What was this, the Happy Prince? Just leaving it outside like this without fear of someone gouging out the statue’s eyes—Li’er Kingdom was wealthy and powerful.

“What’s this?” Tian Fangfang pointed at the base of the statue: “A demon?”

Under the golden man’s treasure sword, another figure was half-kneeling. This person had a green face with fangs, a terrifying appearance, ugly scales covering their skin, and from the waist down was a huge fish tail with a long arrow nailed to it.

“Looks like a merman,” Mu Cengxiao said.

“It is a merman,” Gu Baiying stepped forward, looking at the statue. “Decades ago, Li’er Kingdom had mermen causing trouble. The ruler led troops to kill the demon mermen, and after the disaster was quelled, craftsmen cast this statue to commemorate the ruler.”

“So it’s a mermaid,” Zanxing realized, her gaze falling on the merman statue’s face. This face was no better than the evil ghost face of the two-headed Asura. She couldn’t help saying: “The carving is too ugly.”

“What mermaid? Mermen are mermen,” Mendong frowned. “Where are the beautiful mermen? Isn’t this just what mermen look like?”

Zanxing asked: “Have you seen mermen?”

Mendong was momentarily speechless: “Well, no. Mermen became extinct decades ago. By rights, this one in Li’er Kingdom might have been the last.”

Zanxing looked at the merman in the statue being trampled underfoot by the old ruler. Perhaps because it was so different from the story she had heard since childhood, she couldn’t help saying: “It doesn’t seem like the mermen I know of.” They were both daughters of the sea—why was the cultivation version so dark?