Chapter 20

The second floor of Guanglin Studio looked extremely cluttered. Jade slips were scattered everywhere, scrolls stacked on scrolls. Only the area around the rocking chair was relatively clean, leaving enough space to stand.

Lu Yan glanced at the air-conditioning box hanging on the wall. It was tirelessly blowing out cold air.

Ying Sanliang was used to being rough with his hands and feet. By accident, he stepped on a jade slip. He hurriedly straightened, saw that Lu Yan and Daoist Yizhu walking ahead had not noticed, bent down, and pushed the jade slip aside. Scratching his head, he asked in confusion, “Why don’t you let the puppets help tidy up?”

Daoist Yizhu stopped and tilted his head slightly, then gave a snort of laughter whose meaning was hard to read. “Do you know why I don’t draw facial features on my puppets?”

Question marks practically popped up over Ying Sanliang’s head. “Why?”

Daoist Yizhu moved smoothly across the chaotic floor, clearly having walked this path many times. He went to the rocking chair and lay down as if no one else were there. “Because I made those puppets in the image of my former Dao companion.”

Ying Sanliang clearly did not react in time. “Huh?”

Daoist Yizhu closed his eyes. The rocking chair creaked back and forth. “How would I dare let my former Dao companion help me organize a bookshelf?”

Ying Sanliang seemed to imagine something on his own. After hesitating for a long time, he lowered his voice and said, “I’m sorry. Please accept my condolences.”

Daoist Yizhu waved a hand. “There’s nothing to accept condolences for. She’s the City Lord of Luoyan City and is living perfectly well in the City Lord’s manor. Forget it, a sword cultivator like you wouldn’t understand.”

Ying Sanliang: “…”

The clown was actually me.

Lu Yan picked up a jade slip from the floor, found an empty spot at random, and sat down. As he read the jade slip, he asked casually, “Since Martial Uncle still misses her, why not move somewhere near the City Lord’s manor? Instead, you’re one in the south and one in the north, with such a great distance between you.”

Daoist Yizhu had not lived these few hundred years for nothing. Naturally, he heard the probing in Lu Yan’s tone. He clicked his tongue twice. “I already said she’s my former Dao companion. How would youngsters like you understand? In her heart, I’m probably no different from a dead man.”

Before Lu Yan could speak, Daoist Yizhu curled his lip. “Flip through the jade slips on the second floor as you like. You can take them too. But don’t talk. You’ll disturb my sleep.”

Ying Sanliang gestured at Lu Yan. “What kind of weird temper does your martial uncle have?”

Lu Yan shrugged.

Daoist Yizhu did indeed have a great deal of material here on arrays and runes, especially puppet-making methods, and they gave Lu Yan quite a bit of inspiration for improving the Gundam.

Back then, the founder of the Divine Creation Sect had ascended by means of the puppet path. In Daoist Yichen’s generation, only Daoist Yizhu, whose seniority ranking was neither high nor low, was obsessed with this path.

Lu Yan was certain Daoist Yizhu was hiding something from him. For example, the puppet that had suddenly attacked him as soon as he reached the doorway. According to Daoist Yizhu, it bore the appearance of his former Dao companion. How could he possibly let such a puppet act in such a mindless, disordered manner just for the sake of a tiny test?

And what was even more interesting was that Daoist Yizhu knew Lu Yan had noticed something was off, yet deliberately played dumb.

Lu Yan considered it. If possible, he wanted to go take a look at the City Lord’s manor.

“Little Unbroken, since I’m here, I won’t let you go to the City Lord’s manor.” Daoist Yizhu did not open his eyes, yet he seemed to know what Lu Yan was thinking. “Where does a little kid get so many schemes? Read your books properly. When you’re done, leave early.”

Lu Yan, whose thoughts had been exposed in one sentence, was not embarrassed. Instead, he climbed straight up the pole Daoist Yizhu had handed him. “Isn’t it because Martial Uncle keeps not telling me things… Speaking of which, my master is hiding something from me too, isn’t he?”

Daoist Yizhu’s face drooped long, and he muttered, “What kind of disciple did Yichen raise?”

Before Lu Yan descended the mountain, Daoist Yizhu had exchanged letters with his little martial nephew several times. In the letters, Lu Yan’s wording had been polite and organized, and his views on arrays and runes had been quite distinctive. Daoist Yizhu had also studied the Detailed Explanation of Rune and Array Principles that Lu Yan had compiled, and it had given him no small amount of inspiration. So when his two junior brothers, Yichen and Yiwen, said that his little martial nephew would be coming here, Daoist Yizhu had still been somewhat expectant.

Who could have thought he would be this much trouble later? Not only had Daoist Yizhu lost several dozen puppets, but from the very first moment they met, he could see a few large words written plainly in the other party’s pitch-black eyes.

Make something up. Go on, keep making things up.

Tsk. Daoist Yizhu silently gritted his teeth. He was only sixteen. How was he this difficult to deal with?

Lu Yan did not refute him. He slowly rolled up the jade slip and set it aside, then picked up another jade slip from the floor.

Some things could not be hidden forever. In any case, Lu Yan himself was in no hurry.

Lu Yan and Ying Sanliang did not stay in Luoyan City for long.

After all, there was less than a month until Medical Valley’s master succession ceremony. The two of them needed to make a trip to Houtu City to find Daoist Yiyue and have Ying Sanliang’s bonded sword reforged once.

When they left, Daoist Yizhu stood lazily at the entrance of Guanglin Studio to see them off.

His entire person gave off a joyful aura of “finally gone, please never come back.”

Lu Yan looked back at Guanglin Studio’s signboard.

Under the scorching sun, there was not much wind to feel. Only the cloth hanging from the two tall poles by the door swirled faintly.

The poles were too tall. The thin strips of cloth cast vague, shifting light and shadow across the old signboard, linking the words Guang and Lin together.

In that instant, all kinds of clues arranged and combined themselves in Lu Yan’s mind. Without showing anything, he said meaningfully, “Martial Uncle, you couldn’t be suppressing something, could you…”

Daoist Yizhu’s heart skipped. His eyelids lifted. “Tch. A child is still a child. What third-rate storybooks have you been reading?”

Lu Yan pursed his lips. “The name Guanglin in Guanglin Studio was well chosen. As for whether what Martial Uncle is suppressing is Guanglin or the City Lord, only Martial Uncle knows. Or perhaps it’s both?”

Remove the ghost from the word demon, and what remained was Guanglin.

On the Wenchen Sword, Ying Sanliang carried Lu Yan steadily through the air. With his pure sword-cultivator brain circuit, he had not understood the implications between martial uncle and nephew at all. He was simply extremely happy that they were about to go to Houtu City and reforge his bonded sword.

Lu Yan asked him, “Do you know anything about the City Lord of Luoyan City?”

“Not much,” Ying Sanliang said. “I only know that every generation of Luoyan City Lord has had the surname Yu. Rumor says they are peerlessly elegant and make people fall in love at first sight. So at some point, Luoyan City was renamed Luoyan City, taking the meaning of beauty that makes fish sink and geese fall. But the current City Lord really does rarely show her face. Still, because Luoyan City’s rules have been passed down generation after generation, and it’s also a rare city where cultivators and mortals live mixed together, the City Lord is more of a symbol. Whether she appears or not doesn’t make much difference.”

Ying Sanliang’s tone shifted. “Before I went into seclusion, someone spread rumors that because the City Lord of Luoyan City never appeared, she had fallen into the demonic path. But not long after that, the City Lord of Luoyan lit fireworks on the city wall to celebrate her birthday, no different from before.”

Lu Yan was thinking that Martial Uncle Yizhu was extremely skilled in the puppet path, yet not a single puppet inside Guanglin Studio had facial features drawn on it.

Was it because he was afraid the puppets would profane his former Dao companion, or was it because there was already one puppet sitting upright in the City Lord’s manor, as perfect as a real person?

Lu Yan could not help looking back.

In his field of vision, Luoyan City gradually turned into a small black dot, hidden among layers of clouds.

In front of Guanglin Studio, Daoist Yizhu watched the flying sword depart until not even the slightest trace of it could be seen. His fingers moved, and the broken threads hesitated for a moment. Then, as if confirming something, they wound themselves around Daoist Yizhu’s fingertips again. The puppets piled messily on the first floor moved their stiff limbs a couple of times. Then, one by one, they climbed up and lined up, standing there neatly.

“Yu Niang…” Daoist Yizhu turned around. With a heavy bang, Guanglin Studio’s main doors slammed shut. He grabbed a tall stool, directed the puppets to line up, took a comb out of his robes, and began combing their hair, muttering endlessly. “Their clothes are torn, their hair is messy, and a few are missing arms and legs. Yu Niang, oh, Yu Niang, what exactly is better about that miserable godforsaken place, the Demon Realm, than me?”

“Does someone comb your hair there? Does someone make clothes for you? Does someone make dolls for you? Does someone have a martial nephew for you to play with?”

The lighting on the first floor was not very bright. Daoist Yizhu had his back to the light, and the faceless puppets could not speak. Daoist Yizhu’s muttering disappeared emptily into the air.

The way this grand Spirit Transformation cultivator combed someone’s hair looked, unexpectedly, a little stooped.

Outside Guanglin Studio, the two tall pillars still stood quietly before the door. The shadows of the cloth strips fell across the signboard, linking the words Guang and Lin together.

In a daze, it looked like a distorted word for demon.

Houtu City.

Ying Sanliang was so excited he looked like a groundhog. The moment he saw even a tiny bit of Houtu City’s wall, he stretched out his neck and sped up with all his might.

Awoo, awoo, awoo, Houtu City!

Awoo, awoo, awoo, a sword-forging master!

Awoo, awoo, awoo, reforging his bonded sword!

Lu Yan looked down.

He suddenly narrowed his eyes. Invisible golden lines shifted, forming a complete grand array.

This was Lu Yan’s first time seeing this grand array. It was just that he had written teaching materials before, so he could instantly deconstruct arrays and vaguely guess the grand array’s function.

Unlike Luoyan City’s bustle, Houtu City, starting from its city walls, exuded an ancient, heavy aura.

They were still some distance from the city gate when Ying Sanliang controlled the flying sword to descend and explained, “Houtu City has guards. You have to show your identity before entering the city.”

Houtu City’s walls were built from yellow earth, towering and majestic. The walls bore traces left behind by all kinds of weapons and natural weather. Just looking at them made a sense of pressure rush straight toward one’s face.

But as they walked along the road, there were no pedestrians or cultivators around, making it feel a little desolate.

The guards at the city gate wore simple armor. Their skin was dark, a broad-bladed saber was strapped to each of their backs, and wine pouches hung at their waists. After seeing Lu Yan and Ying Sanliang, one stepped forward and spoke rather politely. “Are you two entering the city?”

Once they were close, Lu Yan realized that the guard was extremely tall, conservatively estimated at over two meters. His muscles were rock-hard, and the hilt of the saber behind him was blackened. It looked as though it had been stained with plenty of blood. He did speak politely, but for some reason, he made people think of a bandit saying, “I opened this road, I planted this tree.”

The guard also knew his appearance was not great, so he used all his strength to bare a mouthful of big white teeth, expressing that he truly was very friendly.

Even a sword cultivator like Ying Sanliang felt the other party’s expression had become even more terrifying.

Lu Yan coughed twice, rummaged through his storage pouch, and took out the direct disciple token he had not used in a long time. “I am Lu Bupo of the Divine Creation Sect. I’ve come to Houtu City to visit Master Yiyue.”

The guard’s expression changed. He vigorously wiped his large hands on his armor again and again, then carefully accepted the token. After exchanging a glance with his companion, he returned the disciple token to Lu Yan with both hands. His dark face grew increasingly “approachable,” and he said sheepishly, “So it’s Little Martial Uncle Lu of the Divine Creation Sect. Please enter the city. Go straight along the street, and Master Yiyue’s shop will be on the south side of the road.”

Lu Yan thanked the guard and entered Houtu City.

The guard watched Lu Yan’s back and said, “So that’s the little martial uncle of the Divine Creation Sect. As expected, his bearing is extraordinary.”

“Sure is,” his companion said, patting the wine pouch at his waist in agreement. “My wife’s eyes aren’t good, and she doesn’t have a spirit root, so she can’t cultivate. It’s all thanks to Little Martial Uncle’s desk lamp. Heh. My wife likes thermos cups and insulated food jars the most. She brings me hot meals, and this wine too. I heard it was brewed from spirit seeds. Strong stuff!”

“All right, all right, showing off again. We know sister-in-law is good.” The guard rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, yearning in his voice. “Not only that, our Young City Lord also owes it to the extreme elemental space Little Martial Uncle refined that he could wash away his other spirit root. Though he can’t control it very well yet.”

“Wait.” His companion suddenly reacted. “Isn’t our Young City Lord at Master Yiyue’s place?”

The guard slapped his thigh and hurriedly rushed into the city.

But Lu Yan and Ying Sanliang were one at the Golden Core stage and the other at the Nascent Soul stage. Their footspeed was astonishing. In only a short while, not even the corner of their robes could be found.

The guard murmured, “…Oh, my good heavens. This is bad.”

Daoist Yiyue’s sword-forging shop was very easy to find. A particularly eye-catching red flag fluttered at the entrance. For some unknown reason, though, there were scorch marks all around it.

Lu Yan was about to knock when a streak of silver light flashed before his eyes. Across the ground, the walls, and overhead, fine arcs of electricity spread toward him, converging beneath Lu Yan’s feet and forming a lightning serpent as thick as an arm.

Ying Sanliang’s pupils shrank. For once, he shouted Lu Yan’s full name. “Lu Bupo!”

The shout was so loud that even the people inside the shop heard it clearly.

“Damn it, which Lu Bupo?!”

“How did my little martial nephew get here so fast?!”

“Sink your qi to your dantian! Control yourself! I spent hundreds of years reading books at the Heavenly Evolution Sect, and I’ve never seen an idiot who can’t even control his own spirit root!”

“Martial nephew, don’t panic! Martial Uncle is coming!!”

Lu Yan looked at the crackling electricity right in front of him. A transparent film silently covered his palm. He struck, grabbing the lightning barehanded, and as if he were swinging a long whip, he lifted his arm high, dragged the lightning out, and flung it to the side.

The lightning serpent was slammed hard onto the ground. Without any room to struggle, it scattered and vanished like fireworks.

Daoist Yiyue, the first to walk out and see this scene, froze dumbly. “Martial Uncle came… what did Martial Uncle come here to do?”

Elder Pojun, the second to walk out and see this scene, was baffled. “Holy crap, who are you?”

The unknown young lord, the third to walk out, covered in crackling electricity, said, “Lightning Dharma King!”

The corners of Lu Yan’s lips curved up. He opened the hand that had just flung the lightning apart and held it before his eyes. Casually, he said, “That last one. I’ll give you another chance to speak properly.”

Next Chapter >