The Master

“Old bones! You just wait—one day you’ll be the one who can’t move.” Lu Xiucai was bent over gathering firewood, his face twisted as he muttered under his breath.

Gouwa sidled up and elbowed him. “Hey, you’ve got some nerve, stealing Senior Brother Li’s sword.”

Lu Xiucai shot him a contemptuous glance. “Ridiculous. I just held a sword, so what? What’s the matter? Scared?”

“No way, no way. That sword’s reeks of blood so bad, just getting near it makes my whole body ache.”

Hearing this, Lu Xiucai’s face grew even more smug. “Afraid of that? Let me tell you, the reason I pulled it out in the first place was because it reeked of blood. If I wanted to, I’d do it again right now!”

“Ohh, impressive, impressive.”

As they chatted, the two dropped their armloads of firewood beside the iron pot and turned to go fetch water.

“Xiucai, come here a moment.” Li Huowang, sitting on a stump alongside Lu Zhuangyuan, looked over at the thin, distant youth.

Amid Gouwa’s gleeful expression, Lu Xiucai hung his head and trudged over.

He glanced up at the one-eyed young man before him, panicked, and immediately dropped his gaze to the straw sandals on his feet.

“Don’t look down. Look up at me.”

Hearing this, Lu Xiucai finally lifted his head again.

“How have you been feeling lately? Still the same temper?” Li Huowang asked in a calm tone.

Lu Xiucai shook his head. “Much better. It’s almost back to how it was before I held the sword.”

At that moment, the grinning Gouwa walked up to Li Huowang and repeated their entire conversation verbatim.

Hearing what his own son had said, Lu Zhuangyuan sighed deeply, a weary, heart-sick exhale, lifting his lit pipe from his mouth only to lower it again without taking a puff.

“You motherf—” Lu Xiucai started to curse Gouwa, but a slap landed across his face.

It was Li Huowang. When he saw Lu Xiucai’s gaze, full of murderous intent, fixed on him, he turned to Lu Zhuangyuan and said, “Troupe Leader Lu, it’s been days now, and there’s no change. It looks like this influence is going to follow him for life.”

“Daoist Master, is there really no way?” Lu Zhuangyuan asked, unwilling to accept it. He had always complained about his youngest son being stupid and timid, but compared to the person he was now, that earlier version was infinitely better.

“If you’re afraid Lu Xiucai’s violent temper will cause big trouble in the future, you could always eliminate the source of the problem right now.”

These words shocked not only Lu Xiucai but Lu Zhuangyuan as well. Fear appeared in both their eyes.

“That-that’s not necessary. Really, it’s not necessary.” Lu Zhuangyuan forced a strained smile and grabbed his youngest son, pulling him away from Li Huowang.

Though Lu Xiucai showed a flicker of disgust at his father’s touch, seeing the pipe in the old man’s other hand, he didn’t dare shake him off.

Just as they were about to leave, a voice from behind called them back.

“Wait. I just thought of a way that might bring Lu Xiucai back to normal. It depends on whether you two are willing to take the risk.”

When Lu Xiucai and Lu Zhuangyuan turned around, they saw Li Huowang holding several sheets of sheepskin parchment filled with writing.

What Li Huowang held was none other than the technique he had forced out of Han Fu’s Nascent Soul for controlling the Bronze Coin Sword: the Xiandu Cishe Seal.

If Li Huowang’s guess was correct, any sect’s technique was essentially a method of applying something.

Since Lu Xiucai was now fully invaded by killing intent, he could borrow the Luo Sect’s cultivation technique to flush it out. Never mind what the Luo Sect cultivated, or what it absorbed afterward—as long as it could replace the killing intent currently inside him, it would do.

Besides, Lu Xiucai would also serve as a test subject to see if the technique had any hidden traps. Killing two birds with one stone.

While Lu Zhuangyuan was still hesitating, an excited Lu Xiucai dropped to his knees in front of Li Huowang, pressed his forehead into the dirt, and thumped his head heavily three times.

When Lu Xiucai lifted his head, his brow stamped with red mud, his eyes were full of thirst for power.

“Master! Accept your disciple’s bow! I want to learn the divine art!”

Li Huowang looked up at Lu Zhuangyuan, waiting for his answer.

Lu Zhuangyuan stared at his son on the ground, struggling with the decision for a long moment, then finally nodded.

With the hope of turning his son back to normal, Lu Zhuangyuan decided to gamble. The Daoist Master had said the risk was low. And if it worked, his utterly useless youngest son might actually rise in the world.

“Alright. Let’s give it a try. Maybe it’ll work.”

Under Lu Xiucai’s burning gaze, Li Huowang handed him the sheepskin parchment.

The moment Lu Xiucai got his hands on it, he began devouring the contents as if starved.

Seeing him like this, Li Huowang let out a defeated sigh. He rubbed his aching temples and said wearily, “Xiucai, did you notice you’re holding it upside down?”

“Master… I can’t read.” Lu Xiucai stared blankly at Li Huowang, clutching the stack of sheepskin.

“Ah… you really live up to your name.”

Li Huowang reached out and took the sheepskin back, translating it for him line by line.

It was exhausting work, especially with someone who couldn’t even write his own name.

Fortunately, Li Huowang had nothing pressing to do for the moment, and Lu Xiucai was obsessively determined. No matter how tiring or painful it was, he pushed through.

By the day they reached the county town, Lu Xiucai had just learned the first part.

Though Li Huowang’s group was large, there were also plenty of tenant farmers from the villages heading into town to sell their goods. The flat dirt road grew lively.

Watching Lu Xiucai, who had been memorizing the incantation obsessively, Li Huowang asked him, “You don’t want to kill me?”

“Master, what are you saying? Why would I want to kill you?”

Lu Xiucai’s tone was completely frank. Li Huowang could tell he wasn’t lying—if the kid had that kind of cunning, he would have slipped up long ago.

“I hit you before. I even suggested your father kill you. With your temper now, I’m genuinely surprised you don’t hold a grudge.”

“I just got a shorter fuse. I didn’t become a madman. Besides, you’re teaching me a divine art—that already cancels it out.” Lu Xiucai’s words sounded perfectly reasonable.

Li Huowang gave a knowing nod and slapped the rump of the ox pulling the cart.

“Moo–” The ox tossed its head lowed and pulled the cart toward the city gate.

Entering the city was a hassle. The guards insisted on inspecting the oxcart carrying the Black Tai Sui. It took some effort, but the experienced Lu Zhuangyuan managed to get them through safely with a few silver coins.

Stepping back onto the blue stone road, seeing the bustling market stalls, everyone felt as if they had come back to life.

Following their usual routine, they found an inn, ate a hearty meal, and after settling in, everyone began moving.

Bai Lingmiao, being a local, took Chun Xiaoman to find a map and ask about the location of Ox-Heart Mountain.

Gouwa, Zhao Wu, and Gao Zhijian went to sell the sheep and buy enough grain to last them.

As for Li Huowang, he went to search the lively county town for any trace of the Supervisory Heavenly Office.