Chapter Fourteen: A Silver Vase Suddenly Shatters, Water Bursts Forth; Armored Riders Charge, Blades and Spears Ring
Beneath the moonlight, Xiao Yan gazed at the Poop-Scooper in his hand, suddenly overcome with a sense of wistfulness.
“Damn you, Fahai! Honestly, since I already have you as my power bank, why am I putting myself through such hardship forging weapons? With your inner strength and my martial talents, we could obliterate the Eighteen Arhats Formation in an instant... If we joined forces, dominating the martial world would be within our grasp...”
“Exactly!” Fahai replied with certainty.
After some time together, Fahai had come to understand the concept of a power bank.
“…”
“But let me ask you something.”
“What is it?”
“What if the power bank runs out of charge? Then what?”
“...Well... Can I recharge you?”
“Take a guess.”
“…”
The next day.
Sunshine flooded the land, the sky clear and boundless—a perfect day.
Senior Brother Yuantong had failed to break through the Eighteen Copper Men Formation and, it was said, had retreated deep into the mountains for secluded cultivation.
Yet everyone still believed that only by finding the formation’s core could it be broken. Xiao Yan’s foolish theory of overwhelming force had gradually faded from memory.
Elder Huiqi arrived early at the forge. After all, Zhuge Yixiu was his disciple, and any mishap would be difficult to explain to the abbot.
The forge was deserted, almost desolate; Zhuge Yixiu was nowhere to be seen.
Had he given up?
“Young people all lack perseverance and persistence,” Elder Huiqi sighed, slowly strolling to the spot where Zhuge Yixiu had worked the day before.
A sheet of rice paper floated up, landing right before him.
“Who’s throwing trash around? If I find out, there’ll be harsh punishment!” Elder Huiqi grumbled, but soon his eyes caught the writing on the paper.
Strange shapes and dense annotations covered the page.
“Is this... a blueprint?” Elder Huiqi suddenly remembered—throughout Zhuge Yixiu’s forging process, Xiao Yan had been hunched over, sketching ceaselessly.
But this thing... Elder Huiqi’s eyes flashed with sudden realization. Perhaps this could actually be made...
If Xiao Yan had simply brought him the blueprint, Elder Huiqi would have been more than willing to try forging it.
Could Xiao Yan truly be a master smith?
But that was impossible... Otherwise, why would he have stood by and let Zhuge Yixiu do the forging?
He must have known Zhuge Yixiu wouldn’t succeed...
Hmm?
The next moment, Elder Huiqi was utterly absorbed by the contents of the blueprint.
Comparing the drawing to the molds on the workbench, he noticed they matched perfectly. Judging by the marks, the forging had been a success.
Oddly, there were traces here as if lightning had struck...
...
Every time the moon rose, the abbot would gaze at his monk’s staff and feel as though he’d fallen in love all over again...
Though he knew monks were forbidden to love.
Yet he still treated the staff in his hands as dearly as a lover.
After a night of grueling effort, the abbot summoned all his strength and finally scaled the cliff.
He kissed his staff, savoring the moment, and set off toward his quarters in high spirits.
But just as he reached the armory, a familiar figure caught his eye.
Xiao Yan?
“Hey... Good morning, Abbot...” Xiao Yan greeted him.
“You little rascal, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Where’s my Howling Celestial Dog?” the abbot demanded, vexed.
“It’s already become the Howling Celestial Dog...” Xiao Yan spread his hands in explanation.
“You brat! I ought to beat you senseless!” The abbot raised his staff, ready to teach Xiao Yan a lesson.
Xiao Yan frowned, motioning for the abbot to calm down. Inside him, Fahai spoke: The Nine-Ice Mysterium Iron has another characteristic—when a breeze passes over it, it makes a sound like a woman’s cry, the kind that makes your face flush and your heart race.
“...” Xiao Yan muttered under his breath, “Old man, are you pulling my leg? How could something like that exist in this world?”
“Er... it exists... but you’ll never find it... Even if you scoured the whole continent, you’d barely find a few pieces,” Fahai replied, somewhat guiltily.
At that moment, a gentle breeze whisked away the dust from the abbot’s bald head... and brushed against the staff in his hands...
“Ah... ***...”
A strange sound came from the staff.
This...
The abbot’s face turned red, his heart pounding...
Xiao Yan turned to look at the abbot, then at the staff in his hands, swallowing hard, his eyes fixed: “Nine-Ice Mysterium Iron?”
???
The abbot was stunned for a moment, then as if sensing imminent danger, he quickly hid the staff behind his back and hurried away without another word.
Xiao Yan: ???
Fahai, inwardly: Dammit... could such a thing really exist?
...
A dark and windy night, perfect for murder.
The abbot tossed and turned, sleepless, his mind plagued by images of Xiao Yan absconding with his staff.
Just like that Howling Celestial Dog, who became a martyred hero for world peace...
But the staff was his beloved—he could never let it go.
He must sleep with the staff in his arms.
Damn it... the more he thought, the angrier he got... until he fell asleep in a huff...
The summer breeze was cool and refreshing, the chirping of cicadas in the mountains forming a beautiful melody.
And the abbot dreamed a springtime dream, full of delight.
In his dream, the monk’s staff transformed into a valiant maiden, dazzling and heroic, named Sweetie.
The abbot, far from past his prime, rose to the challenge and faced her in a hundred battles, undefeated.
Another night of unending warfare...
At dawn, as the first light pierced the sky and the battle ceased, the world returned to peace...
The abbot opened his eyes, only to see an enormous bottom before him...
He was dumbfounded: ???
The owner of the bottom was a plump, stolid monk.
“Excuse me, who are you, fat one?”
The fat monk, bashful and hesitant, stammered, “I... I’m Zhuge Yixiu...”
With that, Zhuge Yixiu fell silent again, as if savoring the aftermath of last night’s battle.
“So you...”
“Last night, you called me Sweetie.”
!!!
???
Something felt wrong, eerily familiar, that same sensation as before...
The abbot was utterly bewildered.
Wait... let me think...
Where was his staff?
Three hours earlier, Xiao Yan had dragged Zhuge Yixiu to the abbot’s bedside.
Unfortunately, the abbot was clinging tightly to his staff, making it impossible to snatch away.
“Stick to the plan,” Xiao Yan whispered.
Zhuge Yixiu nodded gravely and bent down.
Then, he began blowing gently into the abbot’s ear...
After half an hour, the abbot loosened his grip, drooling in his sleep.
“Now’s our chance!” Xiao Yan seized the moment, snatching the staff.
But the abbot instinctively grabbed Zhuge Yixiu’s behind.
“...”
Xiao Yan fled, Yixiu perished.
...
“Damn you, Xiao Yan! This isn’t over!” came the abbot’s hysterical roar from within his quarters.