Invincible Dad

The Heavenly Dao nibbled on the candied hawthorn stick in his hand, his red bellyband shimmering with a blinding golden light under the sun.

He looked down, glancing at the distant Haitang Court.

The Heavenly Dao had never imagined that The Supreme Emperor would choose to reside in this remote star system.

Plans couldn't keep up with the changes.

However, everything was progressing as he had foreseen.

Though the progress was slow, it was all still under control.

Slowly introducing the Martial Dao into the public eye... this move was the right one. Spiritual Energy has been sealed for thousands of years; it's time for it to slowly reawaken.

Suddenly, he thought of the tragic figure of Jing Ke, and his expression grew complex.

But Jing Ke, you've searched for the key to the Nine Kings' Palace day in and day out for thousands of years. With your lifespan... how much longer can you search? Is the person in that coffin really worth you giving up your life? She isn't worth it.

As the thought crossed his mind, the Heavenly Dao stood up. A flash of ancient sorrow flickered in his eyes, only to be replaced by lucidity and bewilderment.

Well, none of this has much to do with me anyway.

The Heavenly Dao dusted off his bottom, licked his lips, and said, "Old Zhang has started selling candied hawthorns again. I'll go buy two more sticks."

The candied hawthorns were very sour, so sour that they allowed the Heavenly Dao to temporarily forget those unhappy memories.

Earth was becoming more and more like home.

...

...

On a misty island over the northern sea, the air swirled as if in an immortal realm.

This was Penglai Island.

One island, one pavilion, it was known as—the Penglai Sword Pavilion!

The Sword Pavilion's heritage stretched back countless years. No one knew how many swords were buried in the Sword Tomb, the core area of the island.

Some said the Sword Tomb held a hundred thousand swords, while others claimed a million, but no one had ever counted them precisely.

This was the Holy Land for the Sword Cultivators of Hua Country.

Even Sakura Country, which produced sword geniuses as prolifically as bamboo shoots after a spring rain, often sent people to Penglai Island to ask for guidance in swordsmanship.

However, in Hua Country, many Martial Artists disfavored weapons, mainly due to the inconvenience of carrying them. One had to sign various documents and regulations with the local Martial Dao Association and related departments. Taking weapons to other regions was even more cumbersome, requiring an application and approval from the relevant authorities. These rules applied to their use as well as their disposal, as the nation had to consider the safety of ordinary people. After all, Martial Artists already possessed strength far exceeding that of normal people; adding weapons to the mix would make them even harder to control.

Of course, for some individuals or sects, the procedures were somewhat simpler. The Penglai Sword Pavilion was one of them.

But not just any disciple of the Sword Pavilion was qualified to carry a sword off the mountain. Only those who reached the Seventh Grade and became true members of the Sword Sect were exempt from these procedures.

The other exception was for inner disciples with monstrous talent.

Although they hadn't yet reached the Seventh Grade, the sect was willing to invest heavily in their cultivation. They were granted early access to the Sword Tomb to find a sword and begin refining it as their lifebound weapon embryo, keeping it hidden in a Storage Magical Treasure.

Deng Shu was one such person.

This was equivalent to using a Storage Space to indirectly circumvent the so-called procedures, and the Martial Dao Association turned a blind eye to it. After all, for the sake of defending Chang'an, the One Faction, Three Sects, and Nine Pavilions had shed countless blood.

At this moment, Deng Shu, this prodigy of the sword, was kneeling before a very inconspicuous bamboo hut on the back mountain of the Penglai Sword Pavilion.

"Master, they've gone too far!" Deng Shu said, his face filled with indignation. "What Moon Clan attack? That's clearly an excuse made up by the East Sea Martial Dao Association!"

"I think so too." A cold voice drifted from the bamboo hut as a woman in a white dress walked out gracefully. Her face was tinged with frost, like an unapproachable snow lotus on an icy mountain. Her name was Rong Sanyue.

At only thirty years old, she was a Divine Gate Realm powerhouse and held the revered title of Supreme Elder of the Sword Pavilion.

Gazing at his master's figure, a deeply hidden look of adoration flashed in the eyes of Deng Shu, who knelt before the bamboo hut.

Rong Sanyue's talent in the Martial Dao of the sword was extraordinary. A fortuitous encounter in her youth had made her arguably the youngest Divine Gate Realm expert in Hua Country.

However, the Penglai Sword Pavilion, like the other One Faction, Three Sects, and Eight Pavilions, maintained a low profile and never actively publicized this.

They were Cultivation Holy Lands and never needed such empty fame.

But that didn't mean they would choose to swallow their pride when bullied. Even a clay figure has a bit of a temper.

"I will personally go to the East Sea and demand an explanation for you," Rong Sanyue said calmly.

"Master, but the Pavilion Master has already expressly forbidden us from pursuing this matter any further..." Deng Shu hesitated.

"Deng Shu, you disappoint me," Rong Sanyue said coldly. "There are no so-called rules. The sword in our hands is the only capital a Sword Cultivator needs to speak!"

Deng Shu was stunned.

He suddenly understood something. He bowed with clasped fists and said, "Thank you for your guidance, Master."

"If you were to fight Xu Lai's daughter, Xu Yiyi, what would your chances of victory be?" Rong Sanyue asked coolly.

"My chances are ten, hers are zero!"

Deng Shu was supremely confident in his combat prowess.

Whether it was Xu Yiyi, that arrogant Yun Jin, or that rogue Sword Cultivator Xu Die who popped out of nowhere—none of them were his match.

"Very well." Only then did Rong Sanyue nod in satisfaction. "I will give you the opportunity to fight her. You must remember, we are not Martial Artists. We are—Cultivators!"

Cultivator. It was a term that had vanished from the great sects two thousand years ago, back when Spiritual Energy had not yet been depleted.

But later, as Spiritual Energy grew scarce, it became difficult for true Cultivators to emerge among the populace. Instead, the Martial Dao flourished, and its practitioners called themselves Martial Artists. Even the One Faction, Three Sects, and Nine Pavilions began to refer to themselves as Martial Artists.

However, only those at the Seventh Grade and above knew how laughable the term 'Martial Artist' truly was. According to the consensus among Divine Gate Realm powerhouses, only after reaching the Seventh Grade and awakening the seed of talent within one's body could one be considered to be on the true path of cultivation.

As a Cultivator, one cannot allow any inner demons to linger on the path of cultivation, especially a sword genius like Deng Shu, who is destined to become famous.

"Yes, Master," Deng Shu clasped his hands and responded.

He understood his master's earnest intentions. She wanted him to reclaim his honor with his own hands. By doing so, that humiliating kneel would no longer be a burden. Instead, it would become a whetstone to sharpen his strength, on the condition that he defeated Xu Yiyi—that five-year-old girl!

"To be able to use Spiritual Energy before even becoming a Martial Ancestor... this girl has a limitless future. I hope you do not become her whetstone."

Rong Sanyue gave her disciple a calm look before swaying in her white skirt and walking down the back mountain, step by step.

Then she left the mountain.

The entire Penglai Sword Pavilion was instantly in an uproar!

Rong Sanyue's strength was terrifying and her status was revered within the Sword Pavilion. If she wanted to leave, no one could stop her, not even the Pavilion Master.

And so, the East Sea Martial Dao Association soon had a massive headache on its hands.

...

...

In the starry sky, Xu Lai's face was etched with deep weariness.

In the morning, he had searched for rare delicacies that his wife and daughter loved. In the afternoon, he had handled official business in the Heavenly Court, laying out all the major plans for at least the next three years. All that remained was for Baize and Taotie to follow up and take responsibility for the details.

On the way back to Earth, the thought of Yiyi's sweet smile and Ruan Tang's soft body gradually revived Xu Lai's spirits.

However...

Why would Taotie offer to come back with me?