Chapter 498: Jinghuo Peak

“Brother Wen, as my senior uncle, don’t you have anything to offer?” Yan Tu glanced at the old Daoist and smiled.

“Hmph, I have so many Golden Core cultivators—if I had to give a greeting gift to every new disciple, I’d be bankrupt long ago.”

“Fine, since we’ve been friends for so long, and since you’ve asked, I’ll give the gift even if I didn’t want to—I just acquired a Ruyi Hook artifact, though it’s only second-rank, it specializes in breaking all kinds of sword and blade artifacts; I originally planned to give it to my own disciple, but now I’ll let this boy have it.” The old Daoist snorted, then swiftly pulled a long, glittering silver artifact from his sleeve and tossed it straight at Wang Yu.

“Thank you, Senior Uncle, for this gift.”

Wang Yu raised his hand to catch the silver artifact, naturally overjoyed, and bowed deeply again in thanks before carefully examining the object in his grasp.

The Ruyi Hook had a rear section resembling a silver blade, while the front curved into a hook; when he shook it slightly, over thirty glowing rune shadows appeared shimmering in silver light—clearly a second-rank middle-grade artifact.

“Brother, you really know how to make a grand gesture,” Yan Tu said, beaming, and bowed repeatedly to the old Daoist.

“Enough, you two have finished your begging—now leave and don’t disturb my cultivation.” The old Daoist rolled his eyes and dismissed them bluntly.

“Hah! Then I won’t keep you any longer, Senior Brother Wen—do come visit my Jinghuo Peak for tea sometime.” Yan Tu laughed, flicked his sleeve, and a crimson aura surged around him and Wang Yu, wrapping them into a blazing crimson streak that shot through the sky.

Almost simultaneously, the old Daoist heard Yan Tu’s clear voice directly in his ear:

“Senior Brother Wen, you oversee intelligence from other major regions—could you contact my disciple in the Wu Kingdom of the Southern Continent and inquire about the origins of my new disciple’s sect, the Four Symbols Sect, and his past there? If you get concrete information, the ‘Immortal Crane Grass’ in my spirit herb garden is yours.”

Upon hearing this, the old Daoist’s face twitched, but he said nothing; he merely formed a hand seal, and a small, misty white light array instantly surged from the ground, his figure vanishing within it.

…

On the other side, Wang Yu had no idea his new master had already arranged to dig into his past; he only felt the crimson aura enveloping him as they flew out of the Wenxin Hall, hurtling at breakneck speed toward a certain direction.

After swiftly passing numerous peaks and flatlands, they finally arrived at a crimson mountain range.

The rocks of this range were mostly black-red, and even the trees covering the mountains were predominantly red.

As soon as Fang Yi entered this range, the air temperature rose sharply, filling the surroundings with an oppressive, scorching heat.

But Wang Yu cultivated the Crimson Sun Great Art; upon entering this range, he felt unusually comfortable, even his internal Qi stirring restlessly.

In an instant, the crimson streak arrived at the tallest peak at the heart of the range.

This peak was entirely black-red, barren, devoid of even a single blade of grass; instead, thin wisps of heat constantly spewed from cracks in the rocks, as if the entire mountain were a colossal furnace.

Around the black-red peak, clusters of buildings were faintly visible; higher up, pavilions and halls could often be glimpsed.

After the crimson light curled around them, the streak landed inside a circular volcanic crater atop the peak.

Here, the ground was blackened and cracked with vast fissures; peering into them, one could faintly see countless rivers of magma slowly flowing within.

At the center of the blackened ground stood a towering crimson crystal pillar, like a giant tower, seemingly forged entirely from fire-crystal stone.

Around the towering pillar rose a cluster of golden and splendid pavilions and halls.

As the crimson mist curled away, Wang Yu found himself standing inside one of these halls.

“Lord of the Peak, you’ve returned.”

Two people had already been waiting inside the hall.

One was an elderly man in a Confucian robe, his hair gray-white, his face as withered and yellow as wood; upon seeing Yan Tu appear, he stepped forward immediately and bowed respectfully.

“Hah! Brother Wang, I knew you’d join Jinghuo Peak.”

The other, a young man dressed in the blue robes of the Bi Shui Palace, also stepped forward with a grin, calling Yan Tu “Second Uncle”—it was Yan Wuxiang. “Second Uncle, how will you reward me? If I hadn’t tipped you off, how could you have gained such a talented disciple?”

“Hmph, you’ve finally done something right—I’ll send you the bottle of ‘Hua Ling Dan’ you’ve been nagging me about.” Yan Tu snorted, walked to the main seat—a crimson chair—and sat down.

“Thank you, Second Uncle!” Yan Wuxiang beamed, then winked mischievously at Wang Yu.

Second Uncle!

At this, Wang Yu’s face finally showed a flicker of realization.

No wonder his new master had been able to intercept him right at the Jade Hall—he’d been tipped off by Yan Wuxiang.

But the Yan family’s ancestral elder mentioned by the Jianjian Sect swordsman wasn’t named Yan Tu—he was called Yan Yuchai.

The Yan family had more than one Golden Core cultivator—no wonder even a Golden Core sword cultivator had to show them some respect.

Wang Yu couldn’t help but be quietly astonished by the sheer power of the Yan family.

“Wang Yu, this is Elder Mu—he’s been my loyal attendant for many years and now manages Jinghuo Peak. I spend most of my time in seclusion; if you need anything in the future, go straight to him.”

“Elder Mu, Wang Yu is my newly accepted direct disciple. Though he’s only at Foundation Establishment, his magical talent is exceptionally high—I hold him in great regard.” Yan Tu said to both the old man and Wang Yu.

“Greetings, Elder Mu,” Wang Yu said at once, bowing respectfully.

Through his spiritual sense, Wang Yu sensed that Elder Mu’s spiritual energy, though weaker than Yan Tu’s, was still beyond his ability to penetrate—clearly at least mid-Foundation Establishment, so he naturally dared not be careless.

“No, no, I’m merely an old servant by Lord Yan’s side. Young Master Wang, if you need anything on Jinghuo Peak, just come find me.” The Confucian-robed elder returned the bow with a full smile.

“Elder Mu, since Wang Yu is now my disciple, take him first to pick a temporary cave dwelling. Only when he secures a true transmission status will he earn a proper independent cave.”

“Yes, I’ll take Young Master Wang to choose a suitable cave right away,” Elder Mu replied, bowing his head.

“Thank you, Master.”

Wang Yu’s heart leapt with joy; he bowed again deeply to Yan Tu.

He had always felt the spiritual veins near Hanlan River were too weak to properly support his daily cultivation.

“Wang Yu, you’ve traveled far to reach my Bi Shui Palace and just finished your meditation—you must be exhausted. Rest well tonight; tomorrow, come back here—I have more matters to discuss with you.” Yan Tu considered for a moment, then added.

“Yes, disciple obeys Master’s orders,” Wang Yu replied without hesitation.

“Second Uncle, though I’m not a Jinghuo Peak disciple, I visit often and know which caves are best—I’ll accompany Young Master Wang to pick one.” Yan Wuxiang grinned.

“Hmm, since Wang Yu just arrived at my Bi Shui Palace, your company won’t hurt.” Yan Tu nodded without objection.

Yan Wuxiang beamed, grabbed Wang Yu’s arm, and hurriedly left the hall; Elder Mu followed behind with a smile.