Missing parents? Check.

Clan wiped out? Check.

The five other things Gary Stu main characters all had in common in a power fantasy self-insert? Check to the power of five million!

Yung gorged down a large pitcher of water.

“Wow,” Yung said, “I am shocked.”

“It is quite a heavy topic.” Youjin Chao laughed. Yung saw a beast there. “I’m sorry for dumping this all on you. But I feel so refreshed after sharing that!” He moved his shoulders in a circle, “I think I’m ready to leave the Dim gold citadel. We have still got our training session.”

“Uh, yeah.” Yung said, “A few days later.”

“I cause nothing but trouble, don’t I?” Youjin Chao joked; his eyes were innocent as Wang Lihou laughed out loud. They did not understand the gravitas of the words this beast had just uttered.

The main character suddenly jolted as though he had remembered something important. “I hear you will take all the Imperfect Heaven 2nd realm experts in the city to recover Fairy Su’s missing foxball? Great! Brother Yung, if you consider me a brother, you must take me! I can’t afford to miss such an awesome chance to see powerful experts in battle.”

“Oh, oh, sure. I will. Training first, though.” Youjin Chao didn’t know it was a foxmoth hunt disguised as a foxball hunt.

But Yung had orchestrated the events that way. Since it was actually a foxball hunt disguised as a foxmoth hunt disguised as a foxball hunt!

Or did he really? In fact, could it be that the world itself changed so it would be the natural conclusion the events would arrive at? A perfect opportunity for the main character to sneak inside a hidden cave and reap all the rewards before anyone else could even get a glimpse of them.

You would’ve made your way there even if I didn’t take you. You’re planning to recover your cultivation with Su Nanya’s foxball! I can read the ambition coming off your Empathic link like the Gary Stu you damn are! I have my eyes on you, mister.

“Brother Chao, I have some, err, preps left to do.” Was all Yung said, “I’ll see you soon,” before he bolted out of the room.

***

“Holy Christ all mighty!”

Yung paced around the hotel suite like a maniac. Silky floated behind him like a dizzy bee, having the time of his life after eating one of those silver grapes Yung got from Han Xinglou.

Calm down, Yung! Remember what Moira said. She hinted that even Star Wars could be real in some hypothetical unreality. Then of farking course a Xianxia could too. And what do all stories have in common? They have a protagonist!

“Oh Moira. Oh Gaia help me!”

Yung sat down. Then stood up again. He drank down water and went back to pacing.

Or protagonists. There’s definitely something up with Floofy and Nyanya. No, wait. Is Su Nanya the love interest of this story? If Youjin Chao was meant to regain his cultivation with her missing foxball, then that’s entirely possible. There’s also Chun and Ling. A harem? Really?

“Where’s the internet when I need it! Dammit, I should’ve read more Eastern fantasy. Well too late now! That reviewer guy I flamed in the comment section of a harem xianxia was right. Web novels do come handy eventually.”

Yung stopped. Silky bumped into his back.

Wait a minute! Then what about me? I am also important people. I was chosen by a literal goddess of the fates and helped kill a Lovecraftian bone god! And I transmigrated! In portal fantasy books, when has there ever been a time when the transmigrator wasn’t the central hero?

Yung paced around again. Silky started following him.

“Kii~.”

Plenty of times, actually. Like stories from a villainess’s or a mob character’s POV. No, no. Don’t despair yet, or be overly enthusiastic for that matter. Every life in every world is a story to another. My previous life could have been a fiction written in some obscure book in a library on the Death Star. Relax. Imagining the people I’ve met as nothing but NPCs would do everything I have ever learnt a disservice.

Yung sat down. He didn’t stand up this time. He took Silky in his hand and caressed the cute critter.

“Kyu?~”

The folks here have their own free will. The suffering I saw in the madlander slums was real. Su Nanya’s sensual aura, Youjin Chun’s regret, and Ziyou Maque’s ambition. To call them off as fiction would be nothing but the purest evil. No, I live in a real, tangible world. Where all mortals are equal before the follies of the fates. Because… Because everyone is the main character in their own life stories, and I…

“But what about Moira.”

Moira was real. So were the fates. And every person had a large, golden pillar shooting straight to the sky, as though connected to some higher being, like puppets attached to strings. Not to mention how tropey some things seemed to be in this world.

“I guess, some people are more equal than others.”

Or perhaps it was the universe itself which controlled everything. The Laplace’s demon gained consciousness. The grand dao? With enough eloquent words and logical jujitsu, everything could be construed as either inevitable or absurd.

As absurd as nothing ever mattering in front of the infinite and uncaring universe.

As inevitable as a “One True God” controlling all actions, emotions, and consequences of every man to walk the earth and every verb ever written down.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

It was causal determinism, it was nihilism, and it was depressing as fuck.

Moira brought the dead back. She showed a giant middle finger to fate, being the goddess of the fates. Yung would take that as an ideal.

It’s futile to worry about where fate ends, and choice begins. That would be making excuses, not taking responsibility for my own freedom of thought!

“We all have a choice. Always.” Yung remembered one of his favourite quotes from his previous life. Even when he was a fossil strapped to a machine. Unable to move, unable to talk. Thrown into despair by random factors far outside his control.

He had a choice. A choice to choose his attitude about how he should face his situation.

“Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. It is up to you to give life a meaning.”

“Kii?”

“Indeed, Silky, indeed.”

Jean-Paul Sartre would have made a great cultivator. After all, cultivators cultivated the grand dao. Every choice they made and every action they took would determine what dao insights they would gain. From dao insights to dao aspect shards, to a full-fledged dao aspect to ascend to the Unfolding Heaven major realm. It would determine their abilities, their potential, and their very existence itself.

And they would be responsible for their actions, reap the rewards, and suffer the consequences. Oh, these selfish, narrow-minded cultivators.

Before committing to learning a sword art, a movement technique, or even calligraphy or the pipa, mentors always reminded their disciples of one thing. One cannot just walk the path of the spear for a decade and then decide to switch to the bow.

Dao insights were tangible things reflected upon the soul boundary in one’s sea of consciousness. They were the purest essence of the grand dao that one comprehended after blood, grit, and sweat. To change them, was to change the soul. To change one’s very existence.

“Choose wisely.”

Cultivation was basically magical existentialism with flying swords.

“We are our choices. I am a free creature with the freedom of choice. I will do what I must, with what is done to us.”

Mind made up, Yung decided on his next plan of action.

***

“What my dao shards look like?” Ziyou Maque tilted his head. He sharpened his rotary of blades on a whetstone with powerful grunts. “That’s an awfully personal question, Young Yung.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Yung said.

“Well I will.” The larger man grunted and stretched, “You know what dao insights are, right? Most madlanders your age don’t, since it’s not taught in the dojos systematically. Too advanced for’em.”

Yung thought briefly, “It is the insights we get on dao principles, reflected on the soul boundary of our sea of consciousness. There’s a limited quantity of insights one can gain. Hence, cultivators constantly need to be aware of their intention and choose wisely.”

Ziyou Maque grinned, “And what be these dao principles?”

“We’re starting from there?”

“Humour us,” The larger man motioned at the thirty or so madlander children curiously congregating around them in a wide ring. They were gossiping like crickets in the bustling dojo yard, their day of training and play coming to an end as they finished their final football game. Every one of them was studying both of these men with inquisitive eyes. When Yung’s eyes crossed theirs, they would look away with shyness or stare back defiantly like kids were prone to do.

“Oh all righty then.” Yung liked preaching, “dao principles are, in simple terms, the building blocks of the grand dao. They are the basic elements, the laws that govern all things. They are ubiquitous and all-pervading.”

“Dun understand,” A snot-nosed madlander kid said, bored.

“How about this: why do you think fire qi, Origin qi, and sword qi are called such, not just qi?”

“Uh, wait!” Another kid said, “Because it’s qi that has the, the, huh, dao principle thingy?”

“Exactly.” Yung and Ziyou Maque were both satisfied by their quick wit. “The dao principles of fire, origin, and sword. In their most common form, dao principles are the basic flavours of qi. They are what gives qi, a renyao, a fiend, an action, a tool and the world itself their most elementary affinity. There can be singular dao principles like the dao principle of earth, also known as the law of earth. Or mixed, such as the law of the sword. Imagine them being a seasoning on top of rice. Salt gives it a salty flavour, while pepper makes it spicy.”

“Ooooohh.” A loud chorus of understanding waved out. The first snot-nosed kid raised his hand again, “Then in the martial arts that the instructors teach us, it says that it’s gotta do with this law of earth you just said. And force, and fist. Do we gain them dao principles with it?”

“Good question.” Yung said, “What’s the name of this martial art?”

““The earth cracking fist.””

“Have you ever wondered why this simple fist art can crack the hard earth? Or, in your case, crack fiends like cracking earth?”

“Because qi?” Said the replier with a cute duh.

“That’s well and dandy. But there’s more to that, brat.” Ziyou Maque said. “If I randomly went around with my Origin qi splashing all over my veins, I can’t even break more than a few boulders before my own bones break. But by using martial arts, I can blast apart a small hill. Cause it’s the very nature of this art to crack the earth. It’s the same way a sword cuts, fire burns, and the wind feels windy.”

Many heads were scratched in confusion. Ziyou Maque was stumped.

“Let’s do this. Have any of you awakened?” Yung asked the eager children.

A single hand rose. It was the kid who scored the last goal to bring his team the victory. Huh, maybe it isn’t fair to pair cultivators with mortals in a game of skill…

“So you can see your soul boundary?”

The kid nodded, “It’s that large barrier that separates mine sea of conscious from the grand dao; teach said so.”

“Sea of consciousness. And on that barrier, do you see anything?”

“Foggy squiggles, lotsa them.” The kid raised his head, “Some of them stays same. Some of’em change every time I practice the earth cracking fist or other technique—I gets it!”

“Exactly. As you practice that art repeatedly, you slowly gain comprehension into why a simple fist with some qi can crack the earth and break the rocks so effortlessly. With repetition and reflection, your mastery will rise, and you may even get something called an earth cracking fist intent. A dao aspect shard!

“By comprehending the very nature of why a martial art works, you gain insight into the dao principles. dao insights are precisely those foggy, squiggly lines on the soul boundary. They are the reflective shadow of the grand dao cast upon your soul.”

“Wait, then what about walkin’ and breathin’?” A question rang out from the left in a girly voice, “I do that every day, more time than punchin’. And I eat, run, swim, and lotsa other stuff too!”

“Every action you do, as you comprehend their true nature, you will gain dao insights into their principles. Even simple ones. Most dao insights you’ll gain will be out of your control. But the soul boundary has limited space on the surface, and that’s a huge limiting factor.”

“Izzat why teach always yells at us to ‘Choose Wisely?’” The questioner mimicked her teacher’s voice with a funny drawl, raising giggles from her friends.

“Yes. Once a dao insight is gained, you can’t easily erase it from the soul boundary.”

“Oh, then what about us?” Another new voice. “We don’t gotta see our sea of consciousness. Will we gain dao insights?”

With each interaction, these shy-at-first children slowly gained confidence. It brought a smile to Yung and Ziyou Maque’s faces.

“Do you have a hobby?” Yung asked.

The kid nodded enthusiastically, “I help mother weave baskets after dojo! She sells them at the fiend butchery. I like to help her.”

“Is your mother a cultivator?”

The questioner shook his head.

“Is she good at weaving baskets?”

“She’s the best!” That got loud protests from his friends.

“Na-ah! My sister is the bestest.”

“Then my granny is bestest times ten!”

Many of the children’s family members had similar professions.

“The fiendhunter uncle said he’s not gonna buy another basket other than what my mommy makes. He even visits our house at night.” A little girl no older than six exclaimed happily.

Whoa! Wrong topic.

“Is he gonna be your new daddy?” Her friend asked.

“Mommy said so. She said my first daddy is a poopeehead who ran away with all her basket money.” The girl replied with a cute frown.