The Daily Life of the Immortal King
chapter-73

Chapter 73: Is Little Xuan Here?

The return journey had been arranged by the school in advance. It was a one-stop bus service which covered every student’s route home.

Wang Ling’s house was the furthest away, so he was the last one to reach home.

The school had paid the bus driver a special overtime fee to ensure that each student reached home safely. Although the journey was a long one, the old driver didn’t complain much since he was getting paid for it.

When the driver dropped Wang Ling off at his front gate, he stared at the Wang family’s small villa, which stuck out like a nightclub in a deserted village, and he couldn’t help sighing for Wang Ling in his heart.

This boy was really too pitiful!

Nowadays, housing prices downtown weren’t high, but his family couldn’t even afford a house in the downtown school district and actually lived in these desolate outskirts. Wasn’t it a lot of effort to go to and from school every day?

The driver did some quick calculations in his heart. Even taking the fastest spirit bus, it would still take two hours to arrive at No. 60 High School, so back and forth would be four hours altogether. It was so much effort for this kid to go to school every day, he definitely wasn’t getting enough sleep! No wonder he had such a poker face!

Wang Ling was indeed a little tired… mainly of sitting in the bus. Otherwise, he would have already arrived home long ago!

With a weary heart, he sighed and stretched as he prepared to get off the bus. When he was at the front doors, the driver uncle called out to him. “Student!”

Wang Ling turned around with a blank look. “???”

The middle-aged driver felt around in his pocket and took out his wallet. He then pulled out five one hundred-yuan bills and stuffed them into Wang Ling’s hand. “Student, I’m only a workman. But given your circumstances, it’s really not easy for you. This uncle doesn’t have much money, take it as a little token of my goodwill, you have to take it!”

“…”

Wang Ling stood by the road and watched him drive the bus off into the distance, five hundred yuan clutched in his hand and a convoluted expression on his face.

…

By the time Wang Ling got home, the hallway was pitch dark; there was only a soft light and the faint sounds of the TV coming from the living room. Hearing it, Wang Ling knew that it was Mother Wang’s favorite TV show, The Legend of Zhen Huan , which was the sequel to the famous TV drama Princess Pearl . It was the motivational story of a maiden named Zhen Huan, who collected five rings through her own hard work, sweat, wits and bravery to stand out among all the other competitors and finally come out on top at the Cultivation Olympic Games.

Mother Wang had already watched this show before; the late night broadcasts were all replays. The reason she was keeping vigil in the living room was that she wanted to wait until her precious son came home.

But in the end, she had been unable to resist falling asleep.

When it came down to it, Mother Wang was just an ordinary person; although she had some foundation in body refinement, in the end, she was just a brawny, middle-aged woman who couldn’t compare with a cultivator.

Mother Wang was on the sofa. The corners of her lips were tilted upward slightly, as if she was having a good dream. She was lying under a small blanket; Father Wang must have seen her, then covered her with it.

Wang Ling looked at the clock — it was coming up to two o’clock in the morning.

He raised his hands, calling forth a spirit light, and Mother Wang was instantly and directly moved to the bed in her room.

After that, Wang Ling silently went up to the second floor. After being away for four days, his heart longed for his small bedroom. The Wang couple’s master bedroom was on the third floor, where Wang Ling had already sent Mother Wang. Apart from his bedroom, Father Wang’s study was also on the second floor.

At that time, the light in the study was still on, which meant Father Wang was still writing.

Instantly Wang Ling knew, Father Wang probably had writer’s block again!

For professional web novelists, inspiration was their lifeblood. Although Father Wang wasn’t quite well-educated, web novels were different from traditional literature; one could always improve and progress by reading plenty of novels and accumulating plenty of experiences. After being in this industry for more than ten years, Father Wang’s writing style was definitely not too shabby. But at his current level, he was no longer writing tens of thousands of words like before. Nowadays, he struggled every day to come up with even more interesting plots for his stories.

Wang Ling didn’t know what it was like to suffer writer’s block. But he could roughly guess that it must feel like a juicy beef ball stuck in the rectum of a Matryoshka doll.

Writers looked for inspiration in various ways, and smoking and drinking were the most common methods. But Father Wang’s means of inspiration was unique. Every time he suffered writer’s block, he would join some live streaming platform and try to connect soulfully with female broadcast hosts in the hopes of deriving inspiration for his writing.

Father Wang’s full name was Wang Jiao. To become closer to these female broadcast hosts, apart from typically using a portion of his author’s earnings to buy them gifts, he had even created a very playful ID for himself, Wang Jiaomei¹ .

Of course, Mother Wang wasn’t aware of any of this. If she found out, it was likely Father Wang wouldn’t live to see the sun rise at dawn… and to ensure Wang Ling remained quiet on the matter, Father Wang had even unilaterally increased his allowance, which was quite a strategic move.

Maybe it was because of his four hectic days outside, when so many things had happened — now that Wang Ling had this rare moment of peace to himself in the middle of the night, he was in a good mood, and lying restlessly on his bed, he was curious to see what Father Wang was chatting about.

Wang Ling was sure Hero Guo must have infected him, since he had never been such a busybody before.

He sat upright. Looking in the direction of the study, his pupils shone like a kaleidoscope. Very quickly, the wall in front of him became transparent, allowing him to look right through it and focus on Father Wang’s computer screen.

Wang Ling glanced at the name of the live stream that Father Wang had entered: “Your Moon, My Heart.” Next to the name, in smaller print, was the female broadcast host’s ID: Little Xuan.

Wang Ling was surprised to realize that he had heard this name before; she was one of the hottest online female live streamers at the moment, widely loved by the audience for her fresh and pretty face, her sweet voice, and her wise responses to all kinds of questions on love posed to her by lonely people late at night.

Glancing at the ranking list of her fans, Wang Ling saw that Father Wang was ranked in the top ten! Furthermore, he was also a guardian angel! Two hundred thousand fan points in a mouth… which meant that he had spent at least twenty thousand yuan on this female broadcast host this month ² !

If Wang Ling sent a screenshot of this ranking list to Mother Wang now… he believed that there wouldn’t even be bone ash left of Father Wang.

But, for the sake of family harmony, Wang Ling in the end refrained from doing so.

It was clear that Father Wang was very famous in this live stream. As soon as he went online, the chat room’s system automatically displayed his ID in bold, extra large letters on the bulletin board — [Broadcast host Little Xuan’s guardian angel: Wang Jiaomei is now online!]

Currently, the live stream room was empty. It looked like the female broadcast host had gone to the restroom…

In the live stream, it was a guardian angel’s privilege to speak directly to the female broadcast host.

Glancing around her empty room, Father Wang’s eyebrows twitched. He straightaway put on his headset and cleared his throat.

And then… a flirtatious voice Wang Ling had never heard before filled the air.

“Is Little Xuan here? Is Little Xuan here? Yup yup yup yup… it’s Jiaomei!”

Wang Ling: “…”