Chapter 135

As that cold grew stronger, the chill spread from my hand, and the flickering flame on the wick was already covered with a layer of white frost.

Inside the formation, the cracks in the gloomy pillars were gradually spreading, extending from the length of a single finger to the length of an arm.

Pangzi was almost frozen into frost, and my hands were nearly stiff; I wanted to increase my strength, but the frost had already frozen my arms stiff.

Finally, in the blink of an eye, the wick went out.

My heart jolted; the wick going out meant the formation had failed, and Pangzi…?

"Pangzi..." my spirit trembled, tears streaming, I anxiously lifted my head.

Suddenly, a tremor shook heaven and earth, knocking me to the ground; when I, tears flowing, staggered to my feet, I found the situation in the field had changed...

The so-called gloomy wood ceased its bursting; a white mist filled the field, and the twelve banners stood firm like an old monk in meditation, not cracking as expected.

And within the formation of the black wood twelve banners, a spherical ice sculpture suddenly appeared. The ice sculpture emitted cold air; through the transparent ice, Pangzi's blurry outline could be faintly seen.

And when I lifted my head to look at the sky, the Taiyin star, which had been emitting a strong white light, gradually shrank to the size of a bowl, once again hanging high in the sky, no different from the ordinary moon we see.

It turned out that the moment the wick went out was also the moment the Taiyin star shifted from waxing to waning. For any celestial body, rise and fall have their time; once time passes, the star returns to dimness.

Before setting up the formation, Pangzi repeatedly urged me to seize this moment when the Taiyin star was at its peak, never expecting that the star's shift from peak to decline would actually save our lives.

Indeed, worldly affairs are truly unpredictable and hard to foresee.

Just as I was racking my brains over how to break the ice sculpture to rescue Pangzi, the courtyard gate creaked open, and Fan Wuchang in black robes slowly walked in.

"How did you come?" I asked Fan Wuchang in surprise.

Fan Wuchang said, "I wasn't at ease, so I came to have a look." He then glanced around and asked me, "How's the situation? Is the formation set up? And what about this kid Weijiang?"

"The formation is set, Weijiang..." I paused, pointed at the ice sculpture and told Fan Wuchang, "He's inside."

"Uh... inside," Fan Wuchang stared at the ice sculpture in astonishment for a moment; when he saw Pangzi's blurry outline showing through the edges of the ice, he couldn't help but let out a "pfft" laugh.

"Haha, how did he get in there? Is he okay?" Fan Wuchang laughed doubled over, because through the corners of the ice sculpture Pangzi's funny fat face was visible, mouth and eyes wide open, one leg posed like a golden rooster standing on one leg, especially his hands crossed like a plus sign, his image vividly resembling the currently popular protruding-and-recessed man.

I shrugged and told Fan Wuchang, "It's not dangerous, but if we don't break this ice sculpture, we'll have to wait for the ice to melt naturally before he can come out. Yet if we chisel it open, I'm afraid I might hurt him."

Fan Wuchang held his stomach and laughed loudly, "No problem, let him stay frozen! Besides, he's so tall that if he stays frozen long enough, he might even freeze into the height of Zeng Zhiwei."

Obviously, Fan Wuchang still held a grudge over Pangzi's remark that "your face looks more like Zeng Zhiwei," and seized the chance to throw Pangzi under the bus.

"Brother Chang, what do you say we should do now?" I asked, shoulders hunched helplessly.

Fan Wuchang laughed, "Cold mixed," then waved a hand, put his arm around my shoulder, and said, "Come on, let's go get hot pot, and we'll pack a portion for Pangzi; maybe after we finish eating, the ice will melt on its own."

I… can hot pot be packed to go?

"Sure, you've never seen a hot pot that can be taken to go, have you? I'll take you to see it!" Fan Wuchang threw a big arm around my shoulder and dragged me out of the courtyard.

At the same moment, a loud roar suddenly came from the quiet courtyard.

"Chi..."

This roar consisted of just the single character "chi," and when the sound fell, ice fragments burst outward with a bang, startling me and Fan Wuchang to instinctively cover our heads and crouch down.

No need to ask; hearing that sound, we knew it was Pangye's latent power erupting, finally breaking free from the glass.

The next moment, Fan Wuchang turned around, repeatedly clasping his fists in congratulations: "Congratulations, Wang Pangzi! While Sun Wukong leapt from stone, you actually jumped out of the ice—before long, the divine land will produce another monster… no, a hero destined to be remembered through the ages."

Fan Wuchang teased Pangzi, his mouth twitching as he desperately held back laughter.

"Haqiu... you two heartless bastards, actually abandoning me... Haqiu, go eat hot pot... hot pot." Pangzi hugged his shoulders, his whole body trembling uncontrollably from the extreme cold, his speech slurred.

"Wrong, Pangzi, we're not going to eat hot pot, but to eat the vegetables in the hot pot!" Fan Wuchang said sternly: "We're not like you; we can't do something like eating hot pot."

Pangzi said nothing, just gave him a look of contempt.

One minute,

Two minutes

Five minutes.

Under this continuous contemptuous gaze, even Fan Wuchang's composure felt a bit strained; so he quickly coughed twice to hide his embarrassment: "Actually… we're trying to draw out your latent power, yes, we're helping you bring it out—talking about hot pot is just a reverse psychology tactic."

Pangzi: "……"

I: "……"

The Jin dynasty scholar Fu Xuan once said, "Those who stay near vermilion become red; those who stay near ink become black."

Look at Fan Wuchang, this cold-hearted man—after being influenced by Pangzi these days, he's become utterly shameless, showing just how insightful that old master Fu Xuan's saying is.

While eating hot pot at the restaurant, Pangzi kept glaring at Fan Wuchang with a murderous stare. However, Fan Wuchang, having weathered great storms, remained unmoved under that gaze, calmly picking up meatballs and sending them to his mouth.

Such a state can be summed up in one line: "Let him be strong; the clear wind sweeps the hill. Let him be reckless; the bright moon shines on the great river."

"By the way, when are you planning to head back to Guangdong?" While eating, Fan Wuchang changed the subject, then slipped a striped shrimp into Pangzi's bowl.

At first, Pangzi kept his cheeks puffed, glaring at Fan Wuchang without speaking. But the moment Fan Wuchang gave him that shrimp, Pangzi's tense expression finally relaxed.

Especially when Fan Wuchang chewed that shrimp with relish, making smacking sounds, Pangzi could no longer hold back; he snatched his chopsticks and in a swoop shoved the shrimp into his mouth, then grabbed Fan Wuchang's bowl, and under our stunned gazes, he devoured everything in one sweep, swallowing it all.

"What are you looking at? Here's a bit left, give it back to you..." Pangzi picked his teeth and tossed the bowl back to Fan Wuchang.

Fan Wuchang didn't mind at all, casually picking up another bowl and scooping food from the hot pot.

"I still haven't told you—when are you planning to return to Guangdong?" Fan Wuchang sipped his soup and asked softly.

I pondered for a moment and told Fan Wuchang, "It might still take about one and a half months; the exact time is uncertain."

Fan Wuchang, while ladling vegetables into the pot, frowned and said, "That's too long; if you have nothing else to do, you'd better leave Aomen early tomorrow morning?"

I suddenly felt odd; logically, after all we've been through, even if Fan Wuchang didn't try to detain us, he shouldn't be driving us away—why does his tone sound so off, as if he's directly issuing us an expulsion order?

So I nudged Fan Wuchang and half-joked, "What's up? Are you trying to give us an expulsion order?"

Fan Wuchang gave a light smile, his voice weary: "Of course not; it's just that the situation in Aomen is quite turbulent—though it looks calm, dangers lurk everywhere. Some forces may not want Dongling to fall, but others with impure motives are eyeing us covetously. You saved Zhengge in the Tiger Gang assassination, and already some powers have taken notice of you. I and Zhengge hope you can leave Aomen quickly, leave this place of right and wrong, lest you innocently lose your lives because of Dongling."

At that moment, Pangzi, mouth full of meatballs, mumbled: "No way—first off, I still have some matters to settle with Hai Sheng; besides, the Nine Yin Formation set up at Zhengge's place also needs to be dismantled in three days, or else the residence will be corroded by yin energy and become a dead land, giving rise to a calamity no less than yang sha."

Upon hearing that, Fan Wuchang suddenly let out a low sigh, rubbing his forehead and remaining silent for a long while.

I and Pangzi thought he was worrying for us both, so Pangzi patted his shoulder and smiled: "Don't worry, we've known each other for so long that we've developed some feelings; if anything comes up… I, King Pangzi, will protect you." As he spoke, Pangzi thumped his chest hard.

Fan Wuchang glanced at him and sneered: "Come on, with your little stature you're still going to protect me."

Immediately, Fan Wuchang seemed to recall a scene from the banquet hall again, and he couldn't help but give a self‑mocking smile, patting Pangzi on the shoulder: "No matter what, I thank you for your kind heart."

Pangzi picked up a meatball, stuffed it into his mouth, waved his hand, and said nonchalantly: "It's fine; who made you still owe me forty‑seven thousand eight hundred eighty‑eight? If you die, who would I go to for the money? You say, if I don't protect you, who will I protect?"

I: '……'

Fan Wuchang: '……'