Chapter 4: " Is there really immortals in this world?"

The sky was gloomy, and the storm had not yet relented. Thunder rumbled in the distance, its echoes rolling through the towering skyline of Tianshui City. Beneath the glow of flickering streetlights, Gu Dao stepped out of the school gates, his figure blending into the shadows of the rain-drenched streets.

A taxi pulled up beside him, its tires splashing through shallow puddles. He slid into the back seat without a word. The driver, an aging man with weary eyes, gave him a brief glance through the rearview mirror before starting the engine.

"Where to?" the man asked, his voice rough from years of smoking.

Gu Dao leaned back, his gaze distant. "Qingyuan District."

The driver raised an eyebrow. "That old neighborhood? Not many young folks live there anymore."

Gu Dao didn't respond immediately. He simply nodded. "Just take me there."

The driver shrugged, shifted gears, and pulled into the road. "Alright, kid. Your ride, your choice."

Silence settled between them, broken only by the hum of the engine and the distant sound of rain tapping against the windows.

The cityscape passed in a blur of neon and darkness, the roads winding like veins through the heart of the metropolis.

The journey was silent. Gu Dao stared out the window, watching as faceless figures hurried beneath umbrellas.

The rain continued to fall, its rhythmic patter against the car roof lulling him into a strange, empty calm.

As the car slowed to a stop, Gu Dao stepped out into the narrow streets of Qingyuan District.

The air here was heavier, colder, as if the rain had forgotten to wash away the grime of years gone by.

The buildings were old, their surfaces peeling and cracked, their windows dark eyes that seemed to follow him as he walked.

His apartment stood at the end of a narrow alley, a relic of an era long past.

The dim yellow light in the hallway flickered uncertainly as he climbed the creaking stairs.

Inside, the air was cold.

The room was neat, but there was no warmth to it—only stillness. A single bed pushed against the wall, a small desk cluttered with books, and a flickering lamp that cast long, wavering shadows.

He shed his damp clothes and stepped into the bathroom, letting the scalding water cascade over him.

The hot water streamed down, cascading over Gu Dao's body, but his thoughts remained distant, wandering.

He stared at the shower tiles as the warmth enveloped him, his mind racing through the fragments of his dreams.

The suffocating darkness, the abyssal black creature, the voice that echoed in his head... Was it a sign of his past life, or just the overactive imagination of someone too lost in novels?

Could those dreams be real? Could they be tied to my previous life? he thought absently.

He blinked, his gaze drifting upward as he muttered to himself, "Is there really immortals in this world?"

The thought lingered briefly, but he shook his head. "Forget it, what will come will eventually come, so why bother?" He chuckled at himself, dismissing the question with a laugh before finishing his shower.

By the time he stepped out, the chill of the room greeted him once more.

He ordered a simple takeaway meal, though the taste mattered little. It was a routine. Something to fill the void.

Then, finally, he turned to what truly brought him solace.

Reading Novels.

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he picked up his phone and leaned back against the bed.

Time slipped away unnoticed, and before he knew it, night had fallen.

Gu Dao lay sprawled on his bed, eyes glued to his phone screen as he scrolled through the latest chapters of a cultivation novel. The further he read, the more his expression twisted.

Then—

"Bullsh*t!" He shot up, nearly tossing his phone in frustration.

His fingers flew across the screen as he furiously typed a comment:

"How can I even describe this? Eleven stars! This protagonist is a living Buddha! I am not worthy of watching his saintly journey! People come to kill him, and he just lets them go. He has a golden finger that lets him copy skills, yet he doesn't bother printing them? A weak chicken who doesn't even consider self-protection in a dangerous world. A saint is no more than this!"

A few seconds later, a reply popped up.

"Stupid indeed."

Gu Dao stared at the screen, his eye twitching.

"...Heh."

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed his phone onto the bed, covered his face with his pillow, and groaned.

"Poison! Absolute poison!" he muttered. "I swear, these authors must be trying to kill me."

Exhausted from his one-sided battle against fictional stupidity, he let out a long sigh and closed his eyes.

And just like that, Gu Dao—poisoned to death by yet another novel—drifted into sleep, his frustration carrying him into the abyss of dreams.

Morning arrived.

Gu Dao groggily opened his eyes, rubbing them as he sat up. Dark circles hung beneath his lids—clear evidence of a night sacrificed to the poison that was web novels.

With a tired sigh, he dragged himself to the bathroom, took a quick shower, and changed into fresh clothes.

In the kitchen, he hastily prepared a simple breakfast—toast and eggs, barely paying attention as he ate.

Minutes later, he grabbed his bag, stepped outside, and headed to school, still half-asleep.

As Gu Dao stepped outside, he glanced up at the sky. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a faint golden hue across the horizon. A rare clear morning.

"Not bad," he muttered to himself. "Maybe today will be a good day."

He soon arrived at the bus station, where a few early commuters waited in silence. Moments later, the bus pulled up with a soft screech. Boarding swiftly, he found a seat by the window and leaned against it, letting the gentle vibrations lull his drowsy mind.

Ten minutes later, the bus came to a halt in front of the school. Gu Dao stepped off and was immediately greeted by a familiar voice.

"Hey, Gu Dao!"

Zhao Fan, his round-faced buddy, jogged up to him with a grin. But as soon as he got a good look at Gu Dao's face.

"Bro... you didn't sleep again, did you?" He squinted at the dark circles under Gu Dao's eyes. "

Zhao Fan sighed, shaking his head. "Seriously, you should cut down on reading novels at night. It's messing up your sleep schedule. If this keeps up, you'll—blah, blah, blah…"

Gu Dao's eye twitched. Annoyed, he cut him off. "Enough, Grandma! Do you ever stop nagging?"

Zhao Fan gasped, clutching his chest. "I say this for your own good, but you never listen to me. It really breaks my heart…" A single tear rolled down his chubby cheek.

Gu Dao gave him a deadpan look, one that clearly said, 'Why are you gay?'

"Alright, fine! I won't do it again." He waved his hand dismissively. "I just lost track of time this morning, that's all."

As they walked down the school hallway, chatting casually, a girl with shoulder-length brown hair and bright eyes caught up with them. Her name was Lin Yue, one of their classmates.

"Hey, Zhao Fan," she said, adjusting the strap of her backpack. "Did you study for the English exam this morning?"

Zhao Fan smirked. "Of course! Do you think I'd risk failing and letting my parents skin me alive?"

Lin Yue rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. You probably just crammed everything last night."

As they laughed, Gu Dao, who had been walking silently, suddenly stopped in his tracks. His face stiffened. "Wait… English exam?"

He slapped his forehead.

Lin Yue turned to him, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Don't tell me you forgot?"

Zhao Fan snorted. "Of course he did. This guy only remembers novel plots, not schoolwork."

Lin Yue giggled. "Maybe the test should be about cultivation novels. Gu Dao would ace it."

Gu Dao groaned. "Ugh, can't we just cancel it? Do we really need English in this day and age?"

"Yeah, sure," Zhao Fan smirked. "Just convince the teacher that the Dao of MTL translations is the future."

Lin Yue laughed. "Good luck with that!"

As they reached the classroom door, Gu Dao let out a long sigh, preparing for the inevitable disaster that awaited him.

As they entered the classroom, students were settling into their seats, some flipping through notes at the last minute, while others simply resigned themselves to fate.

Gu Dao slumped into his chair near the window, sighing. Zhao Fan, sitting beside him, gave him a smug look, clearly enjoying his suffering.

Lin Yue sat a few rows ahead, whispering with her friends. The chatter in the room quieted as the classroom door swung open.

A tall woman in her late twenties walked in, her black heels clicking lightly against the floor. Her name was Miss Xu, their English teacher.

She had a graceful presence, with shoulder-length black hair, clear almond-shaped eyes, and an elegant yet strict aura. Despite her beauty, no one dared to mess around in her class.

She placed a stack of exam papers on the desk and smiled, though there was a sharpness in her gaze. "Good morning, class."

"Good morning, Miss Xu," the students replied in unison.

She glanced around. "I hope you've all prepared well for this exam. Remember, this is a test of your knowledge, not your neighbor's."

Some students chuckled nervously.

Miss Xu's smile faded slightly. "No cheating. If I catch anyone… well, you know what happens." Her tone was light, but the threat was real. Everyone straightened in their seats.

She distributed the papers. "You may begin."

.....