Chapter 34

Liu Xiaolou left the eastern side hall and came before the main hall, leaping onto the eaves and searching among the beams and pillars—sure enough, he found the main hall’s key.

Opening the main hall, he faced the statue over a zhang tall; it wore a tall crown and looked down upon Liu Xiaolou, causing him to sink once more into deep reverie.

On either side, couplets read: Retribution echoes swiftly; heaven never sends calamity without cause. Fear arises from self-cultivation; man may extend his lifespan.

Above, the horizontal plaque bore four characters: Illuminating the Hidden, Penetrating the Subtle.

Liu Xiaolou seemed to understand, pondered briefly, yet found himself utterly baffled, unable to articulate why.

Circling behind the statue, he saw the hall was crude—nothing but the statue, the offering table, and a few bamboo mats.

Liu Xiaolou searched behind the statue and beneath the table, found nothing of value, then closed the door and left, using the same method to open the western annex.

The western annex held two rooms; the larger occupied two-thirds of the space, with a stove, a food cabinet, firewood, a rice barrel, wooden buckets, and a string of smoked pork hanging on the wall, plus brooms, buckets, and other clutter piled nearby.

The smaller room was a bedroom, holding a narrow bed; the wall cabinet was empty. Liu Xiaolou guessed it had been the servant’s quarters—thick dust coated the floor, clear evidence it had long gone unoccupied.

Thus, the bearded man with grave injuries must be the temple’s master—Star Virtue Lord.

Returning to the eastern side hall, the bearded man still lay unconscious, occasionally coughing once.

Liu Xiaolou entered the right room, where shelves lined the walls, holding furnaces of all sizes, various knives, oddly shaped wooden blocks, and mineral stones of differing hues.

In the center stood a furnace stand, its base covered by a circular copper lid flush with the ground. Pry it up, and beneath appeared a fire pit—heat blasted forth, nearly scorching Liu Xiaolou’s eyebrows and hair.

The copper lid was an inch thick, capable of containing fire; its underside bore four engraved characters: Nine Stars Earth Fire.

Is this the legendary subterranean fire said to refine elixirs and forge magic treasures?

Curious, Liu Xiaolou approached the pit, trying to fathom the Nine Stars Earth Fire—imagining how it rose from the mountain’s depths to its peak—but after long thought, gained no insight, and replaced the copper lid, sealing the firehole.

Whether furnaces, knives, or timber—all were ordinary, devoid of any spiritual energy. The mineral stones, varied in hue, he did not recognize, sensing no spiritual anomaly, and felt deeply disappointed.

This alchemist was a pauper indeed; all his wealth lay in the scattered trinkets beside his pillow—less than what Liu Xiaolou carried. Clearly, his forging skills were limited.

Since Wei Hongqing had recommended him, surely crafting a simple array plate was within his ability. Liu Xiaolou resolved to help Star Virtue Lord—spend a few days tending to him, and when he recovered and forged the array plate, he’d dare not charge him.

Having decided, Liu Xiaolou ceased aimless wandering, went to the bearded man’s bedside, and called: “Star Virtue Lord? Star Virtue Lord, Elder?”

The bearded man stirred drowsily, murmured “hmm,” closed his eyes, and whispered: “Water... water...”

Liu Xiaolou had woken him merely to confirm his identity; now that he’d received a response, he began treatment.

He fetched a bowl of water and poured it down the man’s throat, then felt his pulse—slightly steadier than when he’d found him in the snow, yet when he probed deeper into the heart and lung meridians, strong true qi recoiled, jolting his own.

At least Qi Refining eighth level? Liu Xiaolou bowed his head in solemn respect.

The recoil of true qi meant his injuries, though severe, were not fatal—only careful cultivation and recovery were required.

He returned to the western annex, took rice from the barrel, washed it, lit the fire, added water, and boiled a thick porridge. Scooping a bowl of the rice broth, he lifted Star Virtue Lord and fed it to him.

Back in the kitchen, he cut half a strip of smoked pork, placed it in a wooden bowl, and steamed it. When he lifted the lid, the meat’s aroma filled the air, making his mouth water.

After eating the most delicious meal since ascending the mountain, Liu Xiaolou resumed cultivation—but now, not beneath the eaves, but openly within the forging chamber.

The snow fell all night, ceasing by the morning’s Chen hour. Liu Xiaolou opened the door and gazed from the cliff’s edge at the mountain range.

Countless peaks lay blanketed in white snow, glinting gold in the dawn light—truly breathtaking.

Over the next few days, Liu Xiaolou continued tending to Star Virtue Lord, adding oil to the rice broth, then gradually increasing the porridge, wild greens, and minced smoked pork.

His only annoyance was helping Star Virtue Lord defecate—carrying the chamber pot, assisting him to rise, whispering “shhh”—he was thoroughly occupied.

On the third evening, he even helped him with a major bowel movement, hastily tore two pages of yellow paper from the forging rack, and personally cleaned him up.

After laying him back down, Liu Xiaolou muttered: “Star Virtue Lord, Elder, when I served my master, I never went this far. You owe me gratitude—hurry and recover, or you’ll owe me big!”

Star Virtue Lord began snoring, sleeping soundly—clearly hadn’t heard.

Shaking his head, Liu Xiaolou returned to his room to cultivate. At midnight, he felt a slight loosening at the Quchi point. Suppressing his joy, he prepared to gather true qi and intensify the impact—when suddenly he sensed something odd. Opening his eyes, he saw a shadow leaning against the doorframe in the dim lantern light: Star Virtue Lord.

Blinking, Liu Xiaolou exclaimed: “Elder, you’re awake?”

Star Virtue Lord stared at Liu Xiaolou for a moment, then asked: “Boy, who are you?”

Liu Xiaolou replied: “Don’t you remember? You were injured, fell on the mountain path—I carried you back.”

Star Virtue Lord said: “I know... I’m asking—what are you?”

Liu Xiaolou said: “I’ve heard of your forging reputation and came seeking you, only to request an array plate.”

Star Virtue Lord waved him off: “Leave!”

Liu Xiaolou was speechless: “...”

Star Virtue Lord urged: “Go!”

Liu Xiaolou blinked: “Wait—you’re injured! I stayed to care for you!”

Star Virtue Lord coldly replied: “Not needed.”

Liu Xiaolou grew angry: “Without me, you’d be dead! I saved your life, and this is how you repay me? Huh?”

Star Virtue Lord tossed a small satchel at him: “Take these gold, jade, and spirit stones—go!”

Liu Xiaolou exploded: “Who are you looking down on? Do you think I came for this trash? Is your life worth only a few spirit stones and ounces of gold?”

Star Virtue Lord grew impatient, about to speak—when a violent cough seized him, one he couldn’t stop, bending over.

Liu Xiaolou sneered: “Cough yourself to death! Rude old fool—I, from Wulong Mountain, know the virtue of repaying even a drop of kindness with a spring of gratitude. But you? So disrespectful...”

As he cursed, he saw Star Virtue Lord collapse, coughing blood from his lips again—so he fell silent, walked over, lifted him, and threw him back onto the bed.

Star Virtue Lord finally stopped coughing, gasping: “Yangxin Dan... buy Yangxin Dan...”