Chapter 36: Zhi Hua

When the world ripened, one could simply pluck its fruits, just like the laws of the first epoch and the fortunes of the second. These were all fruits born from the world’s growth. After Zuo Meng collected them, they radiated into the real world. Back when the world was newly formed, Zuo Meng, as its creator, had claimed the two most fundamental fruits. But as the world matured, more fruits appeared, and more beings—like the golden entities and hidden ancients such as Xuan Gui—coveted them.

Harvesting now required patience. Waiting until the world reached a pivotal moment would yield riper, more perfect fruits.

So Zuo Meng wasn’t rushing. He returned to his little shop to wait.

To wait for that crucial moment.

As the creator, he was this world’s supreme being, the ultimate mastermind behind everything.

Of course, those were long-term plans. Right now, Zuo Meng faced a more immediate problem:

He was broke!

He’d never expected to fret over money in his own creation. His shop had relied on a handful of regulars buying paintings to scrape by. But after leaving it closed for months, his last coins had gone to provisions. During his time in the Black Forest, he’d mostly survived on those supplies while hunting occasionally. Now the food was nearly gone, forcing him to confront his next meal.

Would he really have to revert to his old… methods?

Zuo Meng sighed. Struggling in the real world was one thing, but here? He was the creator, not some petty bandit!

“First, solve today’s hunger.”

A day without food already threatened to derail his grand plans.

“Sir! Mr. Xue—you’re back!”

A plump man hurried into the shop, face flushed with relief.

*Who’s this…?* Zuo Meng frowned, failing to place the familiar face.

“I thought you’d left Suzhou! Thank heavens you’re here.” The man mopped his brow dramatically.

*Doesn’t matter. Perfect timing for a payout.*

“Ah, it’s… you,” Zuo Meng nodded, feigning recognition.

“Jia Youqian! Call me Xiao Jia. I’m the one who gifted you this shop!” The man beamed.

“Right—Boss Jia. What brings you?” Zuo Meng vaguely recalled manipulating this man for the property years ago.

“The well behind my ancestral home… strange noises every midnight…”

Half an hour later, Zuo Meng escorted Boss Jia out—along with a hastily sold painting.

Jingling fresh silver in his palm, Young Hero Zuo grinned. Crisis averted.

“Uncle Xue! You’re back!”

Zhi Hua darted through the closing door, narrowly avoiding being shut out by the lazy fish himself.

“Hmm?”

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Zuo Meng halted and studied Zhi Hua carefully.

In just half a month, subtle changes had occurred in her. Though undetectable to others, Zuo Meng immediately noticed something amiss. The upheaval of the world’s laws had spawned bizarre phenomena—demons, the entity in Boss Jia’s backyard well, and now this.

Such transformations remained scarce, particularly among ordinary people.

So far, only celebrated martial figures had broken through their limits. While Foundation Establishment cultivators weren’t unheard of, they were still exceedingly rare across the Entire World. When two such cultivators had clashed in Suzhou recently, locals hailed them as celestial beings. To ordinary people, these figures existed only in myths and tavern tales.

Zuo Meng had known the world was changing, but this was his first encounter with traces left by that golden silhouette’s law-altering touch.

Unexpectedly, it involved someone familiar.

“Totemic aura… A Second Epoch being? Dragon Clan?”

A single glance told him much.

The totem path had been his Second Epoch experiment. Every ascending level stemmed from his casual designs—he was the true ancestor of this power.

“Water-aligned bird totem.”

These realizations flashed through his mind instantly.

“Still unmarried, Zhi Hua?”

Zuo Meng teased. During his years in Suzhou, aside from his infrequent visits from a cousin, the girl had become his most regular visitor. She’d even worked in his little shop once, pestering him to teach her painting.

“Back from the capital, Uncle Xue?”

She shot back irritably, grinding her teeth at the marriage talk.

“Bandits robbed me. No travel funds.” He invented the excuse effortlessly. His earlier claim about taking imperial exams had been empty talk—he’d never participate.

The crumbling imperial system would soon render scholars’ status uncertain.

“Still want painting lessons?”

“No.” Her usual spark dimmed. “Master Zhu proposed. I… might stop coming.”

In this feudal age, marriages weren’t self-decided. Zhi Hua herself didn’t understand why she kept visiting—always claiming to seek painting masters she never met. Over time, she’d guessed Uncle Xue was the true artist but kept silent, knowing he disliked complications.

During his shop’s closure, she’d visited daily out of habit.

“Don’t marry if you dislike him.”

He ruffled her hair. After years of companionship, he’d grown fond of this junior. If she resisted, he’d intervene.

“Right! No marriage if I hate it!”

She mustered a shaky smile.

“I should go, Uncle Xue.”

“Remember—no one forces you while I’m here.” He walked her out.

“Thanks, Uncle Xue.”

Turning, she flashed dimples at him before disappearing into the street.