Chapter 6

The tail of the crimson dragon filling the entire temple coiled around the man's knees; the closer to the tail, the more transparent the dragon's body became, making the man appear to Li Guanyi like a god or a demon.

This crimson dragon, divine in appearance, was not real.

Only Li Guanyi, through the power of the bronze cauldron's imprint, could glimpse fragments of it.

Until he met this man a month ago, the bronze cauldron on Li Guanyi's body, dormant for ten years, began to reveal its peculiarities—the deadly poison that often flared up was suppressed, and he gained the special eye technique to see this dragon with his own eyes.

On one side, poison ravaged his body and death loomed; on the other, the bronze cauldron's strange phenomena suppressed the poison—Li Guanyi naturally seized this chance.

The shimmering light in Li Guanyi's eyes faded, the phantom dragon vanished from his vision, and he feigned seeing only an ordinary beggar, then knelt on the mat in the mountain shrine, placing the roasted chicken, steamed buns, and wine he had bought in order, before clasping his hands together before the shrine idol and praying devoutly.

For the past month, he pretended to come here often to worship the mountain god, leaving behind the wine and meat he brought—none of it taken away—each time consumed entirely by this extraordinary man, who appeared every two or three days, staying only the length of one incense stick.

He maintained a balance: allowing the jade liquid within the bronze cauldron to gradually accumulate, without making the man overly suspicious of him.

He acted like a devout boy from the city, never uttering a single word to the man.

He planned to slowly draw closer, grow naturally familiar, and then gain the chance to awaken the bronze cauldron from this giant.

But now, there was likely no time for such patience.

After finishing his usual prayer, Li Guanyi thought of the cloud patterns that appeared in his recurring nightmares, and of the turning point this man had brought him in the past month—he made up his mind. Still kneeling on the mat, he suddenly spoke: "Today, red-embroidered imperial guards arrived at the pharmacy with a young man whose sleeve bore cloud patterns."

"They claimed a prison-breaker had stolen the medicinal herbs the prisoner had requested."

"They also posted a notice offering five hundred taels of silver to anyone who provided information to the yamen."

"I hope this matter passes quickly, and the pharmacy returns to normal."

The giant seated there finally opened his eyes slowly.

Li Guanyi seemed to hear a low, grim dragon's roar, and unconsciously lifted his head.

Without any qi from the bronze cauldron flooding his senses, his vision split into two worlds: one real, the other illusory—on one side, the ruined mountain shrine with broken walls; on the other, brilliant crimson light swirling with clouds, where the immense, ancient dragon's head pressed against the youth's forehead, making his black hair tremble slightly.

The cloud qi suddenly dispersed, the crimson dragon's eyes flared with fire, then shattered under the impact of a towering figure.

The tall beggar stepped out from the cloud qi.

The dragon surged around him.

Within Li Guanyi's chest, the progress of the crimson jade liquid in the bronze cauldron surged forward abruptly.

These phenomena were invisible to the naked eye.

The jade liquid inside the bronze cauldron rose rapidly; the beggar stared at the young man before him.

Over these days, he had secretly observed Li Guanyi—when they first met, the boy was frail and gentle, yet brought him food and drink; the first time could have been kindness, but when he once complained of unbearable thirst, the next day came an entire pot of wine—he knew this boy was either so kind as to be foolish,

Or clever enough to recognize his strength and had some goal in mind.

Yet even so, he had not initiated a single word of conversation for a full month.

Only today did he speak up—yet he spoke to the shrine god, not directly to him, pretending he knew nothing of the fugitive, merely a boy who had encountered the imperial guards and was praying as usual—meticulous, strategic, calm and unhurried.

The beggar inwardly admired him, then let out a boisterous laugh, bowed deeply with clasped hands, and said: "For the past month, thank you, young brother, for bringing me wine and meat to satisfy my hunger."

"This time, you've gone out of your way to deliver word to me—but judging by the current situation, we probably can't stay here any longer."

The beggar sighed, sat down, tore off a chicken leg, crunched it in his mouth, then lifted a pot of wine and swallowed it in large gulps—the entire fat chicken and ten large white buns, enough to feed an ordinary family, vanished in a storm of devouring.

After finishing, he picked at his teeth with a chicken bone and said: "Full. Full."

Then he sighed: "I am indeed wounded, and I don't want to fight these brats head-on. Best if no one knows I'm here—I probably can't stay long. Young brother, you delivered the message to me—I can't ignore your kindness. Here, for all the wine and meat you've brought me these days, take this."

The beggar reached into his robe and pulled out a night pearl the size of a thumb, offering it to Li Guanyi with a bold gesture:

"Didn't bring any gold or silver—this pearl's still worth something. Take it!"

Li Guanyi looked at the pearl—round, bright, unmistakably worth a fortune—but shook his head. The beggar froze, then burst into laughter: "My mistake. If you were greedy, you'd have turned me in to the authorities long ago for the five hundred taels—those would be safer than my pearl, no risk of being investigated."

Li Guanyi shook his head again.

"I want it."

"But I can't protect it."

"Taking it would only bring trouble."

The beggar, intrigued, said: "Can't protect it? Oh? So you mean you want something else from me?"

"Hahahaha, tell me—what do you want?"

Li Guanyi nodded, weighing countless thoughts in his mind—the crimson dragon's form was tied to the bronze cauldron, he couldn't reveal it; the origin of the poison involved the escape and slaughter ten years ago, he couldn't expose it—finally, he raised his head and spoke, leaving only a few concise words:

"I want to learn martial arts from you!"

In his eyes, he glimpsed the crimson dragon, and a deep longing rose within him.

That rainy night ten years ago still rained inside his heart—the cloud patterns on the iron cavalry's armor haunted him like a shadow—he longed for the strength to protect himself and his aunt, yet he was poisoned, and his only hope lay in the bronze cauldron, and in this man who could awaken its change.

The beggar giant studied Li Guanyi's eyes, then grinned widely.

In a flash, he appeared behind Li Guanyi.

He reached out, pressed his hand on Li Guanyi's shoulder, pinched his arm and spine, raised an eyebrow, and said: "Your root quality is surprisingly good—but you've been poisoned?"

"The toxin has corroded your sinews and bones—likely dropped your root quality by more than one tier."

"Hmph, your back's badly injured—done by the imperial guards under Chen State's Night Riders?"

"A bunch of bullying, worthless brutes."

He tapped Li Guanyi's back lightly—a gentle qi surged into his body, and the bruising vanished instantly. The beggar sat cross-legged before Li Guanyi, arms folded, fingers gently stroking his beard, frowning slightly as he studied the youth.

His root quality was only slightly above average, yet his temperament was unusually sharp, subtle, and measured.

At this age, it was astonishing.

But taking a disciple and passing on one's art was no ordinary matter.

His knowledge was vast and all reached the highest realms; he could easily toss out one technique—but his nature was bold and honorable, and he could never do something so careless. Yet teaching true martial arts and divine arts was certainly not a simple thing.

Moreover, this child…

He glanced at the stains on Li Guanyi's clothes and knew the boy had offered no resistance at all—not the point. The key was the stains on his collar: they showed that after being grabbed by the imperial guards and thrown onto the table, he had immediately flipped over onto his stomach, hiding his face.

Everyone fears death.

This is only human nature.

The more clever and quick-witted one is, the more one cherishes one's life.

But a martial artist is different; a man of martial valor must possess a measure of fierce spirit! A child this cautious and quick-thinking has talent, yet lacks that measure of viciousness and fierce spirit, and is not suited for his Sa Lu Zi. But encountering such a young man at a time like this stirred in him a measure of appreciation for talent. One cannot be reckless in taking a disciple, so he resolved to test the boy, and said:

"The Night Raid Cavalry's hounds have already spotted me; I can't stay here too long."

"I'll be leaving tomorrow. For now, let me go look around the area. If you truly have the heart to learn martial arts, tonight happens to be the Ghost Festival. Come find me here at midnight, at the Zi hour!"

This place was remote. Although Yicheng, a pass of the State of Chen, did not enforce a curfew, for a child to run alone to a mountain god temple at midnight on the Ghost Festival to meet a fugitive was absolutely not something a timid child could do. If this boy could manage it, then he could be considered to have some courage; so before leaving, why not pass on a martial art to him?

The big man made up his mind:

"I'll pass on to you a wondrous technique!"

(End of this chapter)