Chapter 10: Crafting the Bronze Cannon

Xu Yuan had already run more than ten li when he was mysteriously dragged back.

The Holy Maiden beamed triumphantly: “You killed one of ours and think you can run? Not so easy!”

The cannon’s muzzle swung around, locking onto Xu Yuan.

“I ask, you answer. Lie even once, and I’ll reduce you to dust.”

Xu Yuan still said nothing; the Holy Maiden had already begun her interrogation—the boy was already meat on the chopping block.

“Where is the Six-Month Worm?”

Xu Yuan scanned his surroundings: Accountant Liu was bound in iron chains, head hung low, clearly beyond help.

Around him, every soul was the enemy’s.

This altar—thankfully, it was only an altar, with no other restrictions to trap him.

Seeing the boy still feigning deafness and dumbness, the Holy Maiden laughed in fury: “You think I’m afraid to kill you?”

The bronze cannon atop the sedan chair blazed with crimson light! Kill this boy, and the maid’s soul could be bound and forged into a yin soldier—then she’d answer any question.

Zhao Yong and the others turned pale, scrambling back several zhang away.

This type of artisan-crafted bronze cannon could fire multiple kinds of shells: explosive and solid.

Normally, a solid shell would be used against a single target—but if an explosive shell had been loaded, they’d be caught in the blast if they got too close.

Xu Yuan spun around and dashed into Old Qiao’s study.

But the moment he moved, the artisan-crafted cannon rotated its barrel, automatically tracking its target.

Xu Yuan ignored it entirely, slipped into the study, twisted through corridors, and slipped out through a small gate in the side courtyard.

Only the inn’s staff knew about this gate.

The crimson glow of the bronze cannon grew brighter, yet the shell never fired.

The cannon’s body swelled outward—someone suddenly shouted: “No! It’s going to burst!”

The Holy Maiden sensed something was wrong; with a crash, she leapt from the shattered rear of the sedan chair and flew toward the courtyard gate.

Zhao Yong and the others were terrified—some leapt over walls, others dashed through gates, all fleeing the courtyard at top speed.

Accountant Liu, bound in chains, stared wide-eyed and struggled to jump…

BOOM!

The artisan-crafted bronze cannon exploded.

The side courtyard was ravaged as if by a storm—bamboo, plum blossoms, and flowers shattered instantly!

Rock formations were blasted into the air; seven or eight pieces flew over ten zhang, crashing onto the street beyond.

The courtyard wall collapsed in neat sections; the study’s front doors and windows shattered, the walls riddled with holes.

The sedan chair split apart; a half-man-deep crater appeared on the ground!

Accountant Liu was hurled through the air—a large shard of cannon barrel, shaped like a tile, pinned him to an intact wall, his eyes bulging, lifeless.

Outside the courtyard, the Holy Maiden’s hair was speckled with wood splinters—how could she ever have looked so ragged?

Her rage boiled over: “Chase him! I want him dead!”

Zhao Yong and the others surged forward like wild beasts.

“When did this brat tamper with it?!” the Holy Maiden snarled.

The maid bowed her head behind her, guessing it had been last night.

But how could this boy possibly tamper with an artisan-crafted object?

Even if he truly ate the Six-Month Worm, he’s still a life cultivator—different paths are like different mountains. He shouldn’t even understand how artisan-crafted objects work, let alone tamper with them.

Xu Yuan had only been hiding inside the sedan chair, never intending to interfere.

But seeing the yin soldier’s master in the front courtyard, he’d acted on caution and made a few “modifications” to the sedan.

As he worked, Xu Yuan realized the artisan who built this sedan was far inferior to his stepmother.

His stepmother had drilled him daily; though not an artisan himself, Xu Yuan understood their craft intimately.

“Looks flashy, but it’s nothing special—just a silk pillow.”

So tampering was easy.

Xu Yuan hadn’t heard the Holy Maiden threaten Accountant Liu.

Could anything bought by the Northern Capital Divine Mechanism Camp really be shoddy?

Zhao Yong and his men knew the town well; Xu Yuan hadn’t run far before they caught up.

Xu Yuan weaved through alleys, but couldn’t shake them off.

Zhao Yong was anxious too—if he didn’t capture Xu Yuan quickly after the Holy Maiden’s humiliation, he’d surely be blamed.

He studied Xu Yuan’s path, leapt onto a wall, then onto the roof beside him.

Wu Xiu were exceptionally agile.

He sprinted across the rooftops, leapt over two courtyards, then soared like a great roc, landing precisely before Xu Yuan.

This was a narrow alley; two others chased from behind.

Zhao Yong stood, radiating authority: “You won’t escape.”

Xu Yuan saw Zhao Yong blocking his path—but didn’t slow. Zhao Yong sneered, shook his sleeves, which shattered with a snap; both arms had swollen thicker than Xu Yuan’s thighs!

Xu Yuan suddenly opened his mouth: PUFF!

A pill glowed silver and gold, hurtling toward Zhao Yong.

Zhao Yong was startled: “A pill cultivator?” Then he sneered: “Pathetic skill.”

He stepped forward, reached out his palm to intercept the pill, and exhaled sharply: “Hah—”

The pill, capable of snapping a tree as thick as a bowl, was caught in his hand!

The pill spun rapidly in his grip; Zhao Yong clenched hard, producing a screeching friction, white smoke rising from his palm.

Then Zhao Yong opened his hand—the pill now rested motionless in his palm.

Clear palm prints marked its surface!

“Accept your fate,” Zhao Yong said coldly.

But he saw Xu Yuan’s lips curl into a strange smile.

Xu Yuan had already rushed to his front; Zhao Yong reached out—certain of success. He’d already decided: once caught, he’d crush the boy’s collarbones first, teach him a lesson.

But halfway through the grab, his arm went limp—he suddenly felt his life force draining rapidly!

Xu Yuan dashed past Zhao Yong, brushing against his arm; Zhao Yong collapsed with a crash.

“Shang Fa… the price of a life…” Zhao Yong gasped his last breath, understanding at last.

The two men chasing behind Xu Yuan were stunned; they rushed to Zhao Yong’s corpse, shaking him, calling out.

Why chase anymore? Their master was dead—catching Xu Yuan now meant certain death.

Thus, a scene of loyal servant grief unfolded in the alley.

Xu Yuan moved like a swift, agile leopard, weaving through streets and alleys, bursting out of town, and dashing into Ghost Witch Mountain.

By the time the Holy Maiden’s group arrived, Xu Yuan was long gone.

The Holy Maiden’s face turned ashen; the maid, steeling herself, examined Zhao Yong’s corpse, retrieved the pill, and presented it: “Price of a Life.”

“Probably taken from Huang Wanliang, refined using his pill cultivator methods.”

“Zhao Yong was careless—he fell for the trick.”

The Holy Maiden pinched the pill—it flattened like dough: “Pathetic skill!”

The men from Zhao’s Fur Shop stared in shock—if the boy was only this level, they should’ve chased him down, died for the Holy Maiden, avenged their master!

The Holy Maiden cursed inwardly: A fool, and a pack of cowards!

Her cold gaze swept over them; she’d already marked them as “bait.”

“Wu Haishan!” the Holy Maiden called out: “You’re a pill cultivator too—can you catch him?”

(End of Chapter)