Cheng Xu stared at Gao Yiye with a wary expression, wondering what this "most powerful ghostly matriarch" intended to do with him.
But instead, Gao Yiye spoke in her calm, melodious voice:
"General Cheng, Dao Xuan Tianzun says your martial skills are quite good. He wishes for you to stay in Gaojia Village and teach the villagers martial arts, as well as the art of battle formations."
"…What?"
Cheng Xu dug a finger in his ear.
"Guess dying really messes with your hearing. You want me to teach ghost villagers? What's the plan? Lady Ghost, you're not thinking of mustering three thousand undead troops to rebel against King Yama, right?"
Gao Yiye blinked, clearly not understanding a single word of that nonsense.
Shansier, however, burst into laughter.
"General Cheng… were you under the impression you're dead?"
Cheng Xu: "I'm… not?"
"Give yourself a good slap on your cheek and see if it hurts."
"Only an idiot slaps himself!"
Shansier lifted an eyebrow.
Gao Yiye couldn't hold back a laugh.
"If Madam Bai heard you say that, she'd smack you so hard your head would spin."
Her laughter burst through the cold night air like morning sunlight ripping open storm clouds — the chilly courtyard instantly felt warmer.
And that shocked Cheng Xu.
Because in that moment, looking at her… he saw light.
Do you believe in the light?
"You're not a ghost? And you—Shansier—you're not a ghost either?"
Shansier sighed.
"Do I look like one? And I'm not a shiye anymore. I'm Steward San now."
Cheng Xu fell silent.
He examined his own hands for a long time, then reached down and pinched his thigh.
"OW—dammit! That hurts!"
Rubbing the throbbing spot, he groaned.
"So I'm alive. No wonder I didn't see Great-Grandmother. Then what kind of place is this Gaojia Village?"
Shansier replied softly,
"A place that shelters people like us — those with nowhere to exist in chaotic times. General Cheng, rest for tonight. We'll talk more tomorrow."
He led Cheng Xu to a guest room, pointed out the bed and blankets.
It was near the Spring Festival now — freezing cold. Cheng Xu was drained to the bone. He struggled out of his heavy armor, collapsed onto the bed, tugged the thick quilt over himself, and was asleep in seconds.
At dawn, he woke to the bustling noise of daily life. Curious, he climbed up the fortress wall to take a look.
Below, villagers were… doing morning exercises.
Li Daoxuan no longer used his strange device to play music for them — they just shouted the rhythm themselves now.
Cheng Xu watched for two seconds, then snorted.
"This exercise routine is useless. Good for stretching. Worthless for combat."
"General Cheng thinks so too?" Shansier suddenly appeared beside him.
"Tianzun said the same. This seventh set of exercises only helps ordinary people limber up. For real combat, they need proper training. Which just so happens to be your specialty."
Cheng Xu sighed, "The moment I heard your annoying idioms, I knew I was definitely alive."
He looked out over the village.
The main fortress was lazy — villagers moving slowly, warming up like elderly retirees in a park.
But the labor reform village and the short-term worker village outside? Full of energy. They had eaten breakfast and were preparing for work. Many climbed the slopes to cut dead trees — the forest had been stripped bare long ago, leaving the hillside empty. Clearly, something big was being prepared.
Others were outside building a concrete road connecting Gaojia Village to Wangjia Village.
Cheng Xu was now certain:
This place was definitely the mortal world.
"Who was powerful enough to save me from that landslide?"
Shansier pointed upward.
"Dao Xuan Tianzun. You don't have to believe it now. Stay a few days and you'll know He is always present."
Cheng Xu looked up at the sky, skeptical.
"And you know what risks you take by sheltering me."
"Which is why you'll need to cover your face and choose a bandit alias," Shansier said. "From now on, introduce yourself by that name."
Cheng Xu nodded.
"So I teach the villagers martial arts and battlefield tactics."
"That is Tianzun's order."
"Fine!" Cheng Xu didn't hesitate. Honestly, where else could he go? If he wandered outside and someone reported he was alive, the Jinyiwei would chase him across the continent again.
Just then, someone scrambled up the wall.
Cheng Xu took one look and recognized him — that big honest kid who drove the giant cart full of trebuchets, ballista wagons, and those so-called immortal missiles to Bai Family Fort.
Right — Gao Chuwu.
Chuwu ran up, panting.
"I know you! You're that court general! I saw you at Bai Family Fort!"
Cheng Xu's face twitched.
Damn it. Should've covered my face earlier. If this spreads, the Jinyiwei will be on him like wolves.
But Chuwu suddenly dropped to his knees and bowed deeply.
"General! Please teach me martial arts! Please be my master!"
"Huh?" Cheng Xu blinked. Total confusion.
Shansier smacked Chuwu lightly.
"What do you need martial arts for? You're huge, strong, fast — you already hit like a hammer."
Chuwu shook his head.
"Last time I fought Zheng Yenfu, he cut me in one move. If I didn't have armor, I'd be dead. I'm not good enough."
He looked miserable.
"And I'm stupid. My brain doesn't work well. Like this, I can never win that girl's heart. So I need to become strong. Really strong. Really really strong. Maybe then she'll like me."
"That girl?" Cheng Xu repeated, baffled.
Okay, yes, the kid is definitely stupid.
But Shansier understood.
"You're still hung up on Xing Honglang? Chuwu, give up. A girl like that isn't going to fall for someone like you. That's called 'wishful thinking.'"
Chuwu pointed at the sky.
"Huh! The heavens opened!"
"…What?"
"…What?"
Both men looked up.
The clouds parted, revealing a gigantic sheet of white sky-paper with two enormous characters written on it.
"Work Hard!"
Chuwu squinted.
"What do those words say?"
Cheng Xu's jaw dropped.
"Why are there words in the sky?!"
Shansier clapped him on the shoulder.
"Teach him, General. This is called obeying heaven's mandate."
Footnotes
Gaojia Village morning exercises – A hilarious echo of real militia drills in late imperial villages, where "exercise" often replaced real training. Historically accurate, tragically useless.
Bandit alias tradition – Rebels, border militias, and "private armies" often used aliases to avoid implicating their clans. Everyone pretended not to know who you really were.
Heavenly signs – Ming and Qing folk culture loved the idea of "the heavens speaking" through omens. Normally it's a comet or weird cloud. Here? A motivational poster. Truly an upgrade.