Next, Jack Yang and Ouyezi went back into teaching mode. Jack still had lots of questions, but he was getting more and more interested in the Way of Weapon Forging. It's not like he wanted to switch careers and become a blacksmith, or make money hammering iron. But in martial arts, weapons and fists are two sides of the same coin—a lot of fist techniques actually come from weapon techniques. To forge a weapon is to forge your own fists.
Before he knew it, the whole night had slipped by, and dawn was breaking in the east.
"Mr. Yang, I have a rather shameless request," said Qin Han.
"Go ahead, I'm listening."
"I've been working on forging a weapon lately, and now I'm at the crucial stage of forging its core. That's why I've been carrying the Hundred Refinement Furnace with me at all times. I'm not a martial artist, so at best I can forge a scholarly heart and mind into it, but I'd like to borrow your hands to forge in a martial heart and mind, and finally create a weapon with both scholarly and martial essence. It could take as little as three days, or as long as seven. Would you be willing?"
"Sure, no problem!" Jack replied. Honestly, helping out was a great chance to observe up close. Getting involved in the forging of a Xuan Divine Weapon—any blacksmith would kill for that opportunity, so of course Jack wasn't going to say no. "Do I need to stay here the whole time?"
"No need, just come by every night." Ouyezi seemed pretty pleased, even smiling. Then he glanced at the Hundred Arms Pool, raised his hand, and said, "Mr. Yang, if I may say, that short spear you put in the pool doesn't even count as a weapon. It's got no forging advantages, it's stiff and lifeless, but the material itself is outstanding, which is why it floats on the Buddha Pool. For a thousand years, every kind of rare material has been recorded, but metal that's almost at the level of Xuan Divine Weapons just based on its material alone—I've never seen anything like it. Add in some other rare treasures, and you've got the perfect stuff for forging a Xuan Divine Weapon."
"So that's how it is." Jack hadn't expected those six short spears to not even count as weapons in Ouyezi's eyes—they were just fancy metal rods. But it made sense: the alien civilization he took them from was basically a high-tech version of human industrial society. Mass-produced stuff from an industrial civilization is bound to be stiff and lifeless. From Ouyezi's point of view, maybe they really don't count as weapons.
Well then, let's forge them into real weapons. The best weapon maker is always a weapon user. Someday, I'll personally turn them into Xuan Divine Weapons that suit my own style.
By the time Jack left Ouyezi's little courtyard, the sun had already jumped over the eastern horizon.
Spirit fire... I wonder if the flames in the Flame Tide count as spirit fire. Probably not bad. As for rare materials... Stardust Crystal Stone is definitely prime weapon-forging material, right? Looks like I've almost got everything I need. But it's probably still not enough—better hunt down some more rare stuff." While Jack was busy plotting out his own Mystic Divine Weapon, he looked up and saw someone.
It's summer, so the sun rises early—technically, it's still morning and the streets are pretty empty. But standing smack in the middle of the long street was a man, maybe thirty-six or thirty-seven, tall and skinny, with cheeks so sunken it looked like his face might collapse. But his eyes were sharp and bright. He had a long blade strapped to his back, stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, hands relaxed at his sides, right in the middle of the street. The passersby kept a careful distance, like nobody dared get close.
Seeing this guy, Jack couldn't help but laugh at himself: "Guess I'm starting to feel like a famous martial arts hero—haven't made a name for myself yet, but people keep coming to find me, and none of them are easy customers." Before spotting him, Jack hadn't noticed a thing. But the moment he saw the guy, he knew he'd been waiting there a long time, and was definitely waiting for him.
"Master Yang, my boss would like to invite you over for a chat. Hope you'll do us the honor." The man's tone was stiff and cold, clearly not used to inviting anyone anywhere. But Jack got it—he was an innate expert. This martial arts world is wild: either nobody shows up, or they all pop out at once. This blade-carrying guy felt about the same as Yun Tianlan from yesterday, just a notch below the Silver Sword King. But innate experts are rare enough, let alone someone powerful enough to be his boss.
Who the boss was was pretty obvious.
But Jack just calmly shook his head. "I need a break. Give me the address, and I'll drop by in a bit."
The man couldn't help showing a hint of surprise. An innate expert inviting someone—especially to meet that particular person—would have 100% of folks rushing over, no matter how tired they were. Heck, even if you hadn't slept for ten days, you'd force yourself to go. But the guy didn't mind, just nodded: "Alright, Master Yang, rest as you please. Just make sure to get to Linglong Temple before noon."
Not a bad attitude, not too arrogant either. Jack felt chatty: "Mind if I ask your name?"
"I'm the Blade Attendant. No name, no family, nothing worth mentioning." With that, the man turned and left. He walked away slow and steady—so slow that even a regular person could see every move clearly, nothing fancy at all. But somehow, he vanished into the golden sunlight in no time. Just that footwork alone would put Sam Lee to shame—no contest. The guy's martial arts skills were off the charts.
Innate and acquired—two totally different worlds.
Blade Attendant? An innate expert, but he gave up fame and fortune, ditched his name, and chose to be a bodyguard instead." Jack squinted at the distant octagonal pagoda, knowing Linglong Temple sat beneath it. "Phantom Sword Saint, just what kind of person are you?"
Back at the Grand Brothel, Jack got a good sleep. He wasn't really tired, but meeting someone like the Phantom Sword Saint meant he had to be at the top of his game. Even Ouyezi could play chess, so a sword master like Phantom Sword Saint was almost guaranteed to do more talking with his sword than with his mouth. Jack didn't think he'd get bullied just because the other guy was stronger, but when you're dealing with a legend, you gotta be ready for anything.
Maybe, just maybe, Phantom Sword Saint would turn out to be the strongest martial artist Jack had ever met.
After sitting and resting for about an hour, Jack opened his eyes, a sharp glint flashing in them—he was back to full power. He popped a sub-grade Meat Pill, and a rush of energy filled his whole body, wiping out every trace of fatigue.
This chapter isn't finished yet~.~ Click 'Next Page' to keep reading the good stuff!
It's time.
"Master! Master!" Fiona Fang came running over like a happy little bird. Ever since she'd gotten close with Madam Dai and the others these past two days, she'd been much more relaxed. She grabbed Jack's sleeve, all excited: "There's an arena match today! Let's go watch together?"
"Not today, I've got something to do. Simon West, I'm counting on you to handle things again." Jack nodded to Simon West, then headed for the door. "I've got an appointment to keep."
"An appointment?" Lots of people were curious—Jack hadn't been in town long, and most of the folks he knew were either jokers or grumpy enemies. Who'd want to meet up with him?
Jack walked straight out the door, and as soon as he stepped outside the Grand Brothel, he saw the Blade Attendant again. It wasn't weird for him to show up here, but if he'd really been waiting the whole time, that was some serious patience. Jack nodded to him, and the two of them headed off together, one after the other.
Inside the doorway, Fang Lingji rubbed her eyes and asked in confusion, "That guy with the blade—when did he show up at the door? I feel like I've never seen him before, but also like he's always been there. Did you see him clearly?"
"Me neither..." Simon West stared blankly at the two figures walking away, especially the Blade Attendant. After a few glances, he suddenly snapped back to reality, face twitching as if something hit him: "Wait, could that be the legendary Hidden Blade? If that's true, then the one who invited him must be..." He didn't finish, just howled at the sky, "Aaaah, comparing yourself to others will only drive you crazy!"
Linglong Temple sat in the Qian position of Eight Directions Square—a rare oasis of calm in the middle of the city. The Blade Attendant led Jack through the temple gates, and just stepping inside, the noisy square outside felt like it belonged to another dimension. The ancient temple was filled with the sound of cicadas and a quiet, peaceful air. In all his travels, this was the first time Jack had seen anything Buddhist in this world.
No matter the size of the sect or how many wandering martial artists he'd seen, Jack had never spotted a single monk or nun. It was like Buddhism just never caught on here. But inside Linglong Temple, the architecture was classic Zen—full of deep, tranquil vibes that made you forget all your worldly worries.
Jack strolled along behind the Blade Attendant, weaving through the temple buildings. Linglong Temple was pretty big, but there weren't many people around. The few he did see weren't dressed like monks—no shaved heads, no robes—which gave the place a weirdly modern tourist spot vibe. Still, there was a solemn, Buddhist air about them that felt just right.
"Master Yang, my boss is inside this hall." The Blade Attendant gestured for Jack to enter, then turned and left.
Jack stared at the temple hall, all his senses on high alert. He couldn't sense anything specific inside, but there was this mysterious, almost magical presence. He knew for sure—someone was in there, and they were a master.
He pushed open the vermilion doors and looked up. Noon sunlight streamed through the lattice windows, filling the room with beams of light. Instead of statues of Buddhas and Arhats like you'd see in a temple on Earth, there were rows of golden bells—though calling them bells wasn't quite right, since they had no clappers and looked more like giant prayer wheels from the Potala Palace. Only these were much bigger, five on each side, each with different patterns. At the front was the biggest bell of all, three meters tall, radiating an aura that seemed to hold down the whole universe.
But the bells weren't the most eye-catching thing—the real standout was a person. Dressed in red, back to Jack, hands clasped behind her, she stood staring at the biggest bell, somehow blending perfectly with the eleven bells around her. Her presence was extraordinary. But with her petite figure and delicate curves, no matter how you looked at her, she was definitely a woman.
Could she be the Phantom Sword Saint?