"Alright, you should leave now. If you don't, the experts from the Duke of Qi Residence will be here soon."
The Pavilion Mistress gently reminded him.
"Thank you for the reminder, Sister."
Ian Song nodded, then looked at Cece. "Take care, Cece. I'll go ahead for now. If I get the chance, I'll come visit you."
Ian Song felt no romantic attachment to Cece; he simply saw her as a soulmate in music.
"Be careful, young master," Cece said softly, her veiled face showing a hint of concern.
"I will," he replied.
As soon as he finished speaking, Ian Song's figure flickered and vanished from the spot. When he next appeared, he was already at the city gate.
Watching Ian Song suddenly disappear, both the Pavilion Mistress and Old Zhou were stunned.
"Mistress, was that teleportation?"
"No, it should be a legendary divine art."
The Pavilion Mistress, tall and noble in her palace dress, shook her head and let a meaningful smile curl her lips. "It seems this kid is even more extraordinary than I thought."
Outer city, inside a low courtyard.
Yuna Zhou was carefully carving a Spirit-Refining Array under her master's watchful gaze.
Thanks to her master's decades of teaching and her own exceptional talent, Yuna's achievements in artifact forging were already no less than her master's. However, her cultivation was still low, and the true fire she condensed was not pure enough. It was fine for forging treasures, but not for refining spirit artifacts, so she needed to carve a Spirit-Refining Array to purify her true fire.
Half an hour later, after finishing the Spirit-Refining Array, a faint smile appeared on Yuna's face.
The gaunt old man's voice sounded at just the right moment: "Seeing your technique in carving the Spirit-Refining Array, I'm relieved. If it weren't for your true fire not being pure enough, your artifact forging skills would already rival mine."
"It's all thanks to your teaching, Master," Yuna quickly replied.
"Alright, enough flattery. Hurry up and start forging!" The gaunt old man laughed, then turned and left the forge room.
Watching her master's hunched back, Yuna silently swore that no matter what, she would heal his injuries.
In another room, Wendy Lin had once again entered cultivation.
She didn't want to be a burden to Big Brother Song; the only way was to grow stronger as quickly as possible.
The gaunt old man walked into the courtyard, poured himself a cup of plain tea, and drank quietly. His weathered eyes showed deep thought: "Yuna has completely inherited my mantle. As long as her cultivation reaches Nascent Soul, she can become a true master-forger. If I keep staying here, I'll only hold her back. Once she finishes this forging session, I'll leave."
Suddenly, the old man's brows furrowed. He sharply looked toward the courtyard wall and barked, "Who's sneaking around out there? Show yourself!"
A figure flickered, and a young man in white appeared out of thin air in the courtyard.
Seeing the newcomer, the gaunt old man's expression changed dramatically, then he gave a bitter smile. "I didn't expect you'd still find me."
"It's been a long time, Senior Brother. Over thirty years without seeing you, and you've ended up like this. It's honestly heartbreaking. If the world knew that the once-famous master-forger Owen Carter had turned into a dying old man, how disappointed they'd be!" The young man in white sneered, his tone mocking.
The gaunt old man remained calm. "Junior Brother, I suppose you've gotten your wish and become the Order Master of the Divine Armory Order. Why keep holding onto an old cripple like me?"
The young man in white walked over, poured himself a cup of tea, took a sip, and spat it out, mocking, "So bitter and astringent—how can you swallow this cheap tea, Senior Brother?"
"I've gotten used to this bitter taste over the years," the gaunt old man said calmly, taking a sip himself.
"Heh!" The young man in white sneered. "Decades have passed and you're still as stubborn and foul-tempered as ever. Back then you were a master-forger, so people put up with your attitude. But now you're just a useless old man—no one's going to indulge you anymore. Listen to your junior brother's advice: hand over the Mystic Armory Canon and tell me where the Spiritfire is. I'll give you a chance to live out your final years in peace."
"Sorry, I can't disobey my master's orders!" the gaunt old man shook his head.
Crack!
The young man in white crushed the teacup to powder. "Senior Brother, don't be ungrateful. I'm only giving you this chance because of our years together. Otherwise, don't blame me for using harsher methods to make you talk!"
As soon as he finished speaking, several figures flashed by—over ten people now crowded the small courtyard.
But the gaunt old man remained unmoved.
The young man in white stared into his eyes and continued, "You really think I just found you now? Actually, I learned ten years ago that you were hiding in the capital and had taken a disciple. I stayed hidden, hoping you'd pass the Mystic Armory Canon to her. But after waiting so long, you still haven't done it, so I'm out of patience!" He grinned maliciously. "I know how much you care for that talented disciple. If you don't hand over the Canon, I'll kill her. You have ten breaths to decide: take the Canon to your grave, or let your disciple live!"
Hearing this, real anger finally showed on the gaunt old man's face. "No matter what, Yuna is still your martial niece. How can you even consider harming her?"
"For the sake of the Mystic Armory Canon, what's one martial niece?" The young man in white sneered.
The gaunt old man fell silent, his face twisting with hesitation, conflict, and pain.
"Three breaths left, Senior Brother. Don't test my patience!" the young man in white urged.
"Three!"
"Two!"
"One! Do it—go grab that girl!" the young man in white snapped, his eyes flashing with anger.
"Yes, Order Master!"
A young man in black received the order and headed toward the house.
Whoosh!
In a flash, the gaunt old man blocked the young man in black's path. The latter's eyes glinted with murderous intent.
The young man in white spoke again: "Senior Brother, do you really think you can fight my men in your crippled state? I promise you this: if you hand over the Mystic Armory Canon and tell me where the Spiritfire is, I'll take my niece back to the sect and personally cultivate her. Isn't it a waste for such a genius to stay by your side?"
"Junior Brother, it's not that I don't want to give you the Canon—it's that I promised our master!" the gaunt old man sighed.
Hearing this, the young man in white slammed the table and sneered, "Cut the noble excuses! You never swore on Heavenly Tribulation, so why can't you give me the Canon? I think you just never intended to pass it to me—our master's words are just your excuse!"
"Junior Brother, I'm begging you—please don't hurt Yuna!" the gaunt old man pleaded.
Seeing this, the young man in white replied coldly, "Obstinate fool. Take him! Abolish his cultivation—I want to see how long you can keep up this attitude!"