To men, women are a strange species—at least, Galadriel, the elven queen, is a very strange one. Just last night, she was going all out, fighting tooth and nail for cultivation techniques, and could strip down without batting an eye for a shot at sainthood. But after a night’s sleep, with the moon setting and the sun rising, she suddenly turned shy and bashful.
She’s just like one of those people who guzzle down Erguotou, get wasted, and in the hotel lobby, belt out 'Little Apple' in front of three hundred coworkers while shouting, 'I forgot my meds today, I’m feeling so cute!'—not caring at all when it happens, but the next day, waking up hungover, patting her forehead, and suddenly breaking out in a cold sweat as it all comes back.
That feeling—honestly, you just want to throw your head back and howl at the sky: My lifetime reputation is ruined! Only then can you truly let it out.
Even with Galadriel’s poise and self-control, there’s no escaping this extreme embarrassment the next day. So, whether dining together, taking a walk, or discussing technical issues and artistic concepts, the elven queen’s face would occasionally flush red, and she’d act all dodgy and awkward.
Yep, that’s definitely the reason.
—All of the above is Teacher Yang’s interpretation.
Keep a close eye—absolutely must keep a close eye! I—I’m doing this… yeah, even though Cute Girl isn’t here, I have to help her out! I know I’m not wrong, that old witch definitely has some shady intentions!
—The above, on the other hand, is Rachel Luo’s thinking.
So, for the next few days, Rachel Luo stuck to the two of them like glue. She didn’t say a word, just quietly listened, looking like she wasn’t interfering at all. But the moment she sensed anything off, she’d instantly go full shadow mode. The vibe shift was so dramatic, her hair would practically stand on end from sheer intensity, whipping around like Medusa’s snakes.
That’s why, every time Galadriel tried to sneak a glance at Teacher Yang’s profile, she’d always catch, out of the corner of her eye, a pair of robot-like eyes shooting death rays at her. With this level of defense, there was no chance to make a move. Galadriel could only secretly click her tongue and suppress her restless feelings, forcing herself to focus on business.
Even though things felt awkward, at least cross-world cultural and knowledge exchanges were finally on track. In another dimension, the martial arts master Henry Huo, founder of Jingwu School, once promoted the spirit of progress, and Teacher Yang inherited and perfected it. That spirit was passed on to Galadriel, who finally dropped her guard and got into deep discussions about becoming a god and what it means to be a saint among mortals.
"Being a saint among mortals isn’t the end—it’s just a brand new starting point. Back in the age of the ancient gods, divine offspring were born saints all the time. But to keep advancing from that foundation? That’s truly rare. Neither I nor Mithrandir have found a definite path. If you set aside allegiances, Sauron’s actually a genius in this area. Every minute, he gets stronger, and he might even break into the realm of demon gods. That’s what really worries us."
After that, Teacher Yang and the elven queen exchanged views on internal energy, magical power, and battle aura. After some research, they realized that both magic and battle aura were just different blends of spiritual and material energies—just with wildly different proportions.
Magical power is close to spiritual energy, barely needing any material force. But battle aura? It’s all about the physical, with just a sprinkle of spirit. That’s why magic can be all flashy with lights and effects—super glamorous. Battle aura, though, looks like a farmer chopping wood: plain as dirt.
But on the flip side, this lopsidedness is exactly what gives Galadriel her Achilles’ heel. When it comes to mental domains, Galadriel’s actually stronger; Teacher Yang can only hang on, not attack. But if Teacher Yang uses the intimidating power of his physical cultivation, he instantly dominates. If she’s caught off guard, he can take her down in a flash—one-hit KO, even for the elven queen.
Just a little difference in proportions makes a world of difference. Spirit and matter are like two primary colors, mixing to create endless possibilities. Teacher Yang knows he’s nowhere near mastering all arts, so he doesn’t bother switching fields to become some part-time grand mage; he just keeps magic knowledge for reference.
After some calculations, Jack Young found that magical power has one big advantage—whether it’s internal energy or holy light, nothing beats the convenience of borrowing force.
Take Galadriel, for example: among the Three Elven Rings, she holds the Ring of Holy Water—the treasured ring on her finger (which is why her summoned magic takes the form of water). Thanks to the ring’s amplification and her innate authority as elven queen, she can easily tap into ten or even dozens of times her own magical power.
When it comes to mass destruction, in the elven forest, the twins together can’t hold a candle to Galadriel. Of course, outside her turf, borrowing force isn’t so easy, so who knows.
But every strength comes with a weakness. Area attacks are great for mowing down fodder, but in a duel with a top expert, it’s a liability. Especially for Teacher Yang—since all that borrowed magic isn’t Galadriel’s own power, it’s a piece of cake for him to handle. Big, messy, and impure—one finger is all it takes to deal with it.
With elegant music playing, Galadriel leaned in and whispered, her breath like orchids: "You seem to have made a discovery?"
"Indeed, other people’s strengths can help sharpen your own. I’ve got some new ideas about borrowing force," Jack Young said, deep in thought. "I used to think about borrowing power from others, but now I realize, why not borrow from heaven and earth? Human strength runs out, but the world is endless—maybe it’s possible... But heaven and earth have no mind, no energy, so... ah, forget it. It’s just a stray thought for now. I’ll revisit it when I make more progress."
This chapter isn’t over yet ^.^, please click next page to keep reading!
Jack Young stored the flash of inspiration in his mind, then asked a question that had been bothering him: "Your Majesty, I’ve always been curious about the elves’ immortality. I have a friend whose lifespan isn’t too long—do you know any ways to extend life?"
Even though the young lady’s poison was cured, you can’t be too careful. Since the opportunity’s here, might as well ask these long-lived folks how they view the 150-Year Limit.
But after chatting for a while, Jack Young felt a bit disappointed. It wasn’t that Galadriel was hiding anything—she really didn’t know any way to extend life.
Just as she’d said before, the elves’ longevity comes from the blessings and gifts of the ancient gods—there’s no rhyme or reason, and nothing to research. "There were once some utterly deranged human kings who tried to gain long life by drinking elf blood and eating elf flesh," Galadriel said, her eyes flashing with killing intent. "In the end, not only did they lose their souls, but their kingdoms were wiped from the map."
"Hmm..." Jack Young thought for a moment and asked, "In your opinion, if heaven and earth stopped allowing you elves to live forever, what’s the longest a life could last?"
"The ancient gods decided this long ago—except for races created by gods, mortal beings can live at most 150 years." Galadriel answered with certainty. "The Aragorn line has always been long-lived, but never past that boundary. And if the world really changes, those who reach that age will be few and far between."
"A hundred and fifty years... so that really is the limit." Looks like this won’t be easy, Jack Young sighed, then asked, "Is there any special way to go beyond 150 years? Like freezing, sleeping, or permanent preservation?"
"As far as I know, none of those methods work. There have been a few crazy wizards who tried all sorts of experiments, but no matter how careful they were, every single one failed," Galadriel said firmly. "A hundred and fifty years—that’s the hard limit. No cheating allowed by heaven and earth."
"So, if someone’s been asleep for nearly two thousand years and is still up and about, wandering through dreams..."
"Only two possibilities: either they’re a creation of the gods, like me, Mithrandir, and Sauron. Or—" Galadriel declared, "They are a god themselves."
"A god themselves... Got it. Thanks for the lesson."
Jack Young and Galadriel talked for three days straight, and it was a huge learning experience for him. Of course, to return the favor, he taught her some of his secret mental arts. The Wheel Pulse Technique from Big Cute and the Supreme Spirit Path from Embroidered Jade—he’d promised to keep those secret, so he did. But Prajna Technique was fair game; some martial arts world folks were still hoping he’d become their sect leader, so passing it on was no big deal.
So Jack Young taught Galadriel the Prajna Technique in full.
They say you shouldn’t teach your secrets to outsiders, but Jack Young didn’t really care. Plus, he wanted to see if Galadriel could break through the dimensional and stylistic barriers to learn a martial arts technique from a wuxia world. After all, no matter how powerful, his own parents could never master it, and that always bugged the twins.
But the pleasant exchange ended abruptly on the third day—not because they didn’t want to keep talking, but because something unexpected happened.
"Bad news, bad news, something’s happened!" Gandalf, in his white robe, rushed in, straight into their little garden chat. The old wizard didn’t even have time to clean up—he was clearly in a mad rush. As soon as he saw Jack Young, he breathed a sigh of relief: "Good thing you’re here! Lady Galadriel, gather the heroes—this is serious!"
"What’s going on?"
"Three days ago, I couldn’t shake the feeling, so I went back to Mosslit Great Cavern. With all those orcs holed up, I knew they were up to something. I dug all the way to the deepest part, and suddenly my magic wand turned green—like, really green! The green light was so scary, even my hair felt green!" Gandalf rubbed his head, still traumatized by the thought. "When I finally got to the bottom, guess what I found? Bet you’ll never guess!"
Jack Young put down his teacup and said confidently, "Ringwraiths, right?"
Gandalf froze, stammering, "H-how did you guess?"
"Nothing else could get you so rattled." Jack Young looked off into the distance, as if seeing something invisible, and called out, "Rachel Luo."
"Disciple here!"
"A sword shouldn’t just sit in its sheath. Since you’re here, come with me to slay monsters and earn some glory—and let’s give your Frostbell Sword a workout."
"Yes!"