"Forgot clothes?"

Having just absorbed a new insight from the "Monkey Seeks the Dao" painting, Li Mo nearly forgot everything else.

Wait, that can't be right.

Back in Yunzhou, she had cleared out an entire clothing store and stored everything in the icy girl's dimensional storage.

Plus, she possessed a rather miraculous martial technique that allowed her to change outfits in the blink of an eye, as easily as child's play.

How could she possibly have nothing to wear?

Hmm...

Hold on.

At times like these, tacit understanding truly shone through. The upright and honorable Li Mo realized, with a hint of self-reproach, that he understood all too well.

Underwear...

After all, that shop in Yunzhou sold outer garments, not undergarments.

As for martial techniques...

What kind of proper martial art could possibly include the function of changing undergarments? That seemed highly unlikely upon reflection.

"Is it... undergarments?"

"......"

On the other side of the screen, the frosty immortal remained silent for a long while before giving a slight nod, her voice as soft as a mosquito's hum:

"Mn."

"Wait a moment."

Li Mo nodded. He had been in the midst of comprehending the Somersault Cloud technique from the "Monkey Seeks the Dao" painting.

Never in his wildest dreams did he expect...

It would come in handy so soon!

Gazing at the painting, the upright and honorable Li Mo focused his mind, earnestly seeking to grasp the profound mysteries within.

"The Somersault Cloud—the most arcane movement and flight technique between heaven and earth, containing the profound principle of 'a single step spanning endless miles.' Thus, when mastered, one can traverse 108,000 li in a single somersault..."

"Back then, the Monkey King mastered it overnight. For me to grasp the basics shouldn’t be a problem."

"I heard from the locals at the tavern that there’s a shop selling women’s garments on West Street? Seems they have a wide variety of styles too. The Southern Border’s customs are quite liberal—you can tell just from the clothing."

"Wonder what their undergarments are like... Forgive me, Brother Monkey."

Li Mo pinched himself and refocused on comprehending the Somersault Cloud.

Pressed for time, he even tapped into his martial insights.

[Ten years of martial insights successfully infused.]

[Year One: You begin practicing somersaults as guided by the divine technique. Damn it—success on the first try! But since your movements differ vastly from the intended form, you only summoned a wisp of cloud.]

[Year Six: Your movements grow more precise. With a single flip, you summon a thick mist, riding the vapor to soar through the air—though the speed isn’t as miraculous as you’d hoped.]

[Year Nine: You no longer need to somersault. A mere thought summons the clouds beneath your feet, and your speed is now incomparable to before. Yet, the true power of 'spanning endless miles' remains elusive.]

[Year Ten: A realization dawns—you’re not 'light' enough.]

A flood of insights surged through him.

Li Mo pondered deeply.

Unlike martial arts, which required years of grinding to achieve mastery or perfection, the Somersault Cloud couldn’t be forced through sheer effort.

Much like the Indestructible Vajra Body, the efficacy of this divine technique depended solely on the 'person' wielding it.

"I’m not light enough..."

Frowning, Li Mo knew further martial insights wouldn’t help. What he needed was that elusive spark of enlightenment.

Without it, no amount of meditation or practice would make a difference.

His comprehension hadn’t taken long—just a few minutes.

The room remained filled with steam and a faint, lingering fragrance.

Setting aside his concerns about 'lightness,' Li Mo turned his attention back to the screen, where the silhouette of the young maiden resembled 'a jade moon sinking into tranquil waters.'

Right...

The icy girl was still waiting for clothes.

Technically, she could’ve wrapped herself in mist like last time. Why hadn’t she remembered now?

"Icy Girl, I’ll go buy you some undergarments. Be right back."

Whoosh—

Clouds swirled beneath his feet, weightless yet lifting him effortlessly. With a gust, he soared out the window.

Ying Bing raised her eyes, watching the young man’s figure vanish outside.

She picked up the big-headed doll and silently asked it:

"When did he learn this new trick?"

Inner Realm experts could only fly by manipulating their domains, and even then, the commotion was far from subtle.

Other methods, like her Azure Phoenix Wings, could also enable flight for Observation Spirit martial artists—but all of them involved noticeable energy fluctuations.

Yet Li Mo’s departure had been utterly silent.

As if a passing cloud had simply carried him away.

He always seemed to pull out some new, inexplicable ability she’d never seen before.

"Will he even pick the right ones...?"

The big-headed doll didn’t answer.

With a soft humph, Ying Bing flicked its forehead, sending it spinning in the water.

......

"Huh?"

"Feels like flying—kinda thrilling, huh?"

Riding the Somersault Cloud, Li Mo couldn’t resist showing off—twirling 360 degrees, weaving through the air with acrobatic flair.

The cloud responded to his every thought, agile beyond belief.

And most importantly—blazing fast!

Though it couldn’t span 108,000 li in a single flip yet, it was roughly 2.8 times faster than Huang Donglai at full speed.

"Qingmu City is bigger than I thought."

"Wonder if the Somersault Cloud can carry passengers? Well... probably unnecessary. Icy Girl can fly on her own."

Soaring above the city’s sea of lanterns, Li Mo felt the giddy excitement of a new car owner—eager to drive even for the shortest errand.

Soon enough, he located the shop specializing in women’s undergarments and dispersed the cloud at a street corner.

Inside, the shopkeeper—a middle-aged Southern Border woman—greeted him amidst a bustling crowd of customers.

The moment he stepped in, all eyes turned his way.

"Young man, we don’t sell men’s clothing here," the shopkeeper said, assuming he’d wandered in by mistake.

"It’s for someone else," the upright and honorable Li Mo replied with utmost seriousness.

"Ha!"

"You’re not from around here, are you?"

"A lad your age, buying clothes for his wife?"

Giggles and whispers filled the shop.

Of course, Li Mo’s boyish charm and awkward earnestness made him more endearing than off-putting.

Had he been some lecherous old man, they’d have thrown him out long ago.

"What’s your wife’s figure like?" the shopkeeper asked.

"Uh... about..."

The upright and honorable Li Mo pondered, then had a stroke of inspiration.

He pointed across the street at one of those Southern Border-style meat buns—modeled after Central Plains fare but heartier, the kind that could fill a grown man’s belly.

"My, what a fortunate young man," the shopkeeper mused, then grinned.

"We’ve got plenty of styles. Since she’s not here, why not pick what you like?"

At this, the shop erupted in playful gasps and muffled laughter.

After all, such garments were meant for either oneself or one’s husband.

"What I like? Ahem, just... normal styles. The kind an upright gentleman would choose."

Clearing his throat, Li Mo scanned the shelves—only to feel as though a new world had opened before him.

Some designs were Central Plains classics, nothing unusual.

Others, however, were distinctly Southern Border—far more revealing, with fabrics and cuts that pushed the boundaries of 'summer attire' into... uncharted territories.

"Oh, come now, a true gentleman wouldn't even step through that door."

The proprietress followed Li Mo's gaze and said with a playful smile:

"Young man, this is called a 'Lover's Embrace.'"

"It’s a local Southern Border style, and this one’s made of pearl-white lotus silk—quite the luxury."

Why call it a Lover’s Embrace, you ask?

Well, certain ladies, left alone in empty chambers or facing troubles in love, would buy this very design...

"I'll take them all."

Young Master Li Mo didn’t dwell on such details.

Buying local Southern Border styles while in the Southern Border? That’s just embracing local customs.

A true gentleman understands this principle—one ought to wholeheartedly dive into local traditions.

...

The esteemed audience must be weary, for even the slightest spark of encouragement for this struggling scribe has dwindled...