Chapter 65: Disciple and Wife
Artifact crafting was best done without delay. The process was complex, involving multiple intricate steps. As dawn broke, Jin Jiamu, having prepared the refining room, sent a message via crane, summoning Tao Ning.
A refiner’s workshop was a sacred space, more private than a bedchamber. Allowing someone inside signified a level of trust that went beyond mere words. Each refiner’s workshop was said to reflect their unique personality.
Jin Jiamu, despite her boisterous nature and unpredictable behavior, had a surprisingly… disorganized workshop.
Tao Ning almost couldn’t find a place to stand.
Jin Jiamu kicked something aside with a clang. “It’s a bit… messy. Make yourself comfortable.”
Tao Ning stood on the small cleared space, watching as Jin Jiamu, like a diligent ant, began organizing the chaos around her.
The floor was littered with half-finished projects, abandoned due to creative blocks, and various refining materials, some processed, some raw, some simply… ruined.
This was normal. Every successful artifact refiner had a graveyard of failed attempts.
The Miro Sea, the deepest sea in the Radiant Realm, was said to be bottomless, even Mahayana cultivators unable to reach its depths, its domain ruled by powerful demons.
Alchemy was expensive and prone to explosions. Artifact refining was no different.
Tao Ning looked at the pile of Fire Spirit Stones beside the roaring furnace. Jin Jiamu, despite her outward carelessness, had prepared ample fuel.
Seeing Tao Ning’s gaze, she puffed up her chest. “Don’t worry. I have plenty.”
Having cleared a space, Jin Jiamu surveyed the room, then sighed. “I heard Demon Lord Qingji’s Refining Fire Palace was a spatial artifact, shrinking to the size of a walnut, light as a feather. It had nine hundred and ninety-nine chambers. Only the main hall was used for refining. The rest were filled with materials and finished artifacts.”
Tao Ning: “You want to emulate Demon Lord Qingji?”
Jin Jiamu, lowering her voice, since they were alone, replied, “Which artifact refiner doesn’t aspire to be like her?”
Such sentiments weren’t expressed publicly.
Tao Ning picked up a half-finished project, a small bronze horse, like a child’s toy, but its weight and intricate joints suggested a more complex purpose.
Abandoned by Jin Jiamu, it remained unfinished.
“I heard from Master that the Refining Fire Palace was also a miniature city, its defenses impenetrable, even by Mahayana cultivators.”
Sighing, Jin Jiamu’s face fell. “It’s a shame. After she disappeared, no one could control the palace. It was looted, abandoned, its treasures lost.”
Tao Ning: “Perhaps it wasn’t a great loss to her.”
Jin Jiamu considered this. “Maybe she just saw it as a giant, flying, indestructible storage shed.”
Tao Ning: “…”
Jin Jiamu: “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Tao Ning, turning her attention back to the bronze horse, said, “This design is viable. Why did you abandon it? You were close to creating a puppet horse.”
Jin Jiamu’s interest piqued. “Close? What was I missing?”
Tao Ning: “Add some Xuanhan Iron, reforge it with Three Gold Crystals, and add a small piece of Ironclad Beast’s inner core. Once it’s complete, carve Swiftness runes on its legs, create a storage space within its body for weapons…”
“If you want to be… devious, you can use Snowsilk Iron needles for its mane and tail. Snowsilk Iron becomes incredibly flexible when finely spun. Imagine a thousand needles flying towards your enemy. Unescapable.”
“Its appearance should resemble a spirit horse, making it difficult to distinguish from the real thing. Perfect for both defense and travel.”
Jin Jiamu, catching the tossed horse, said, “That’s… complicated. Hardly ‘one step away.’”
“Once you’ve mastered this, everything else will be easy.” Tao Ning, turning away, summoned the Flame Dragon Furnace, its heat intensifying the already sweltering workshop.
“Snowsilk Iron needles as fine as horsehair…”
Jin Jiamu initially found the idea absurd, but the more she considered it, the more feasible it seemed. A sudden realization struck her.
“Wait a minute. You know how to refine artifacts?”
The muttering behind Tao Ning ceased, her attention now focused on the roaring flames.
Jin Jiamu rushed over, pointing at the half-person-tall furnace. “What is this?”
Tao Ning stumbled slightly. “The Flame Dragon Furnace.”
Jin Jiamu shook her head. “No, I mean… what’s on its head?”
Tao Ning, removing the cooking pot from the furnace’s lid, muttered, “I used it to cook last night. Forgot to take it off.”
The Flame Dragon Furnace, unaccustomed to the absence of the pot, flickered its flames uncertainly, as if asking, No cooking today?
Jin Jiamu shrieked. “A cooking pot?! You used an Earth-grade, first-tier furnace to cook?!”
Such disrespect towards a legendary furnace! Her own furnace was meticulously cared for, polished and pampered daily.
The sight was appalling. She almost reached for a cloth to wipe the imaginary soot from the Flame Dragon Furnace.
Before she could touch it, the furnace flinched, its flames flaring defensively.
Jin Jiamu realized the furnace had developed a spirit, and it recognized Tao Ning as its master.
After a moment of stunned silence, she turned to Tao Ning, who was sorting through materials. “Are you… looking for a furnace tender?”
Three months later, the rhythmic clang of hammer against metal continued, the furnace fires burning brightly.
Jin Jiamu, cradling a zither, her fingers gently plucking the strings, looked at Tao Ning, who stood before the furnace. “I can’t tell anymore… which one of us is from an artifact refining family.”
Refining, like alchemy, was a secretive process, its techniques closely guarded.
Even her master wouldn’t share her methods so openly. She couldn’t tell if Tao Ning was simply confident, or… naive.
“You’re teaching me everything. I’m practically stealing your knowledge.”
Tao Ning, examining the blade in her hand, said, “The tip is slightly crooked. I need the hammer.”
Jin Jiamu, her initial reservations forgotten, resigned herself to her role as furnace tender, retrieving the hammer.
Since her offer three months ago, she had become Tao Ning’s assistant, the girl’s refining skills far surpassing her own. While unable to assist with the complex tasks, she was kept busy with the smaller, more mundane ones.
But she felt… fulfilled. Her stagnant mid-Foundation Establishment cultivation was showing signs of progress.
Like a scholar’s journey, practical experience was more valuable than books.
The sword, nearing completion, glowed faintly, the sound of the hammer against its surface shifting from a dull thud to a clear ring, then back to a deeper resonance.
Not the sound of ordinary metal, but something ancient and powerful, like the sword itself.
Placing the blade back into the furnace for the final tempering, Tao Ning retrieved the zither, her fingers moving swiftly as she carved formations onto its surface.
Jin Jiamu watched, not daring to interrupt.
In her mind, her master came first, then Tao Ning. Demon Lord Qingji, a figure beyond comparison, was in a category of her own.
As the last stroke was completed, the zither shimmered, and Jin Jiamu heard a faint, ethereal melody, like a whisper from the heavens.
“Is it… done?” It felt… incomplete.
Tao Ning: “Not yet. But the sword is.”
Just as she spoke, the Flame Dragon Furnace trembled violently, like a caged beast about to break free.
“Whose furnace is about to explode?!”
“Is Qianqi Peak experiencing an earthquake?!”
“Someone’s lost control of their furnace!”
The alarmed cries echoed through Qianqi Peak, especially near the refining workshops, where disciples emerged, looking around for the source of the commotion.
Even the Qianqi Peak’s Senior Sister emerged, her face etched with concern. The only closed door… bore Jin Jiamu’s token.
“It’s Junior Sister Jiamu! She’s still inside!”
The tremors intensified, shaking the entire peak. Elder Qianlian, jolted from her meditation, emerged from her cave dwelling.
“What’s happening? Who’s refining?”
A nearby disciple, equally confused, replied, “…It seems to be coming from the Research Hall.”
Elder Qianlian, her brow furrowed, looked towards the Research Hall, seeing dark clouds gathering overhead. “Evacuate the Research Hall! A divine artifact is about to be born!”
The disciple, scratching his head, muttered, “So it’s not an explosion?”
Elder Qianlian, activating the peak’s protective formation, glared at him. “What are you waiting for? Go!”
“Yes, Peak Master!” The disciple rushed towards the Research Hall, relaying the message.
As the bewildered disciples poured out of the Research Hall, someone asked, “Is everyone out?”
“Second Senior Sister is in seclusion. Sixth Senior Brother is collecting materials… It’s Jiamu! Junior Sister Jiamu is still inside!”
At the epicenter of the tremors, Jin Jiamu, losing her footing, sat down abruptly, sneezing violently.
“Who’s calling me?” Rubbing her nose, she looked at the glowing sword hovering above the furnace, her jaw dropping.
Beside her, Tao Ning also watched, mesmerized, a sense of déjà vu washing over her. She had seen this before, but from a lower perspective.
Like a child, looking up at a sword wreathed in red and blue flames, the furnace’s wide mouth spewing fire, two characters faintly visible near the hilt.
The image flickered, then faded. She couldn’t quite grasp it.
A tug on her skirt. Jin Jiamu’s voice, filled with excitement, broke through her reverie. “What are you going to name it?”
“Poheng,” Tao Ning replied.
As the name was spoken, the sword’s glow intensified, the characters “Poheng” appearing on the hilt.
A deafening crack echoed through the sky as the long-awaited lightning struck, the force of the impact making the onlookers cover their ears.
But even covering their ears couldn’t block the sheer power of the tribulation lightning, a sight few had witnessed.
They stared at the Research Hall in awe.
Elder Qianlian, watching from afar, murmured, “A divine artifact, born with a spirit… It must have been named. Heaven has sent down its tribulation… Three months… This isn’t something my disciple could achieve.”
Turning, she saw Lizhu approaching. “Sect Leader, I thought you were…”
Lizhu, her gaze fixed on the distant storm clouds, said, “I returned after seeing her off. What’s happening here?”
Elder Qianlian: “A divine artifact is being born…”
Lizhu: “A divine artifact? Who crafted it?”
Elder Qianlian shook her head uncertainly. “I’m not sure. I’ll ask when they emerge.”
As the tribulation clouds began to disperse, a faint, ethereal melody echoed through the air, drawing them back together.
Elder Qianlian’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Not one, but two divine artifacts?! Even our Grand Ancestor couldn’t achieve that!”
A zither, hovering in mid-air, descended gracefully, settling into its owner’s arms.
A flash of lightning illuminated the side of the zither, and Jin Jiamu saw the characters appear, then fade.
The zither’s owner had whispered a single word: “Jianshu – Mountain Stream.”
The zither pulsed with spiritual energy, flying through the hole Poheng had created in the roof, startling Jin Jiamu, who thought it was rejecting the name.
The tribulation lightning intensified, striking down again and again, making her fear for the zither’s safety.
But like the sword, it endured, its power seemingly amplified by the lightning.
Jin Jiamu, staring at Tao Ning, could only utter a single word, “Monster.” Then, “Are you even human?”
“I’m a human cultivator. There’s no doubt about that,” Tao Ning replied, then added, “You’re about to reach Golden Core. You should enter seclusion. It seems artifact refining suits you.”
With that, she grabbed the zither, slung Poheng over her shoulder, and left.
The Flame Dragon Furnace, shrinking to a fraction of its size, followed her through the hole in the roof, as if fearing abandonment.
Jin Jiamu, blinking in the sunlight, staring at the empty doorway, muttered, “But I’m only at mid-Foundation Establishment…”
As Tao Ning disappeared, two figures landed on the ruined roof: Sect Leader Lizhu and Elder Qianlian.
Having rushed over to witness the birth of a divine artifact, they found Jin Jiamu, on the verge of a Golden Core breakthrough, sitting amidst the debris, a dazed expression on her face.
Elder Qianlian grabbed her by the arm. “You’re about to reach Golden Core.”
Jin Jiamu, feeling the pressure building in her dantian, still reeling from witnessing the creation of two divine artifacts, repeated, “But I’m only at mid-Foundation Establishment…”
Elder Qianlian: “Don’t you realize you’ve skipped two realms? Come with me. You need to enter seclusion immediately.”
Jin Jiamu: “Me?”
Elder Qianlian, not bothering to explain, dragged her away.
The ruined refining room was now empty.
Lizhu, standing under the hole in the roof, her hands on her hips, sighed. “You’re both so impatient. I haven’t even had a chance to ask any questions.”
A small bird soared through the blue sky, landing on a branch.
A woman carrying a sword approached, passing beneath the tree, entering the bird’s field of vision.
Three months had passed since the creation of the two divine artifacts. Jin Jiamu, having advanced two realms, was in seclusion under Elder Qianlian’s strict supervision.
Returning to Wangshu Peak, Tao Ning had learned that Cen Dianshuang, unable to control her surging cultivation, had been sent to Thunder God Valley by the Sect Leader half a month earlier.
A brief message, left on a jade slip.
Tao Ning had considered contacting Cen Dianshuang, but decided against it. Disturbing someone during a crucial breakthrough was unwise.
She remained on Wangshu Peak, reaching Golden Core without any guidance.
After her breakthrough, she had left Wangshu Peak secretly, without informing anyone.
The Golden Core tribulation had, of course, attracted attention, but Lizhu, after observing from afar, confirming the girl’s success, had left her undisturbed, not wanting to interrupt her consolidation. When she returned, Wangshu Peak was empty.
Without Cen Dianshuang, Tao Ning was less… patient.
Passing beneath the tree, she stopped, looking up at the small, white bird perched among the leaves.
The bird blinked its beady black eyes, tilting its head as it met her gaze.
After a long moment, Tao Ning blinked, rubbing her eyes. “I lose the staring contest.”
The bird continued to stare, unblinking.
Tao Ning crossed her arms. “Aren’t you here for me? I crafted a sword and a zither. Care to listen to me play?”
The bird: “…”
Seeing its blank stare, Tao Ning frowned. “Are all Shangxi birds this good at pretending?”
The bird finally reacted, hopping on the branch, dislodging a leaf, its small beak opening. “Chirp, chirp!”
Tao Ning, surprised, echoed, “Chirp, chirp?”
The bird, hopping excitedly, repeated, “Chirp, chirp! Chirp, chirp!”
Its movements, like a small white ball bouncing on the branch, revealed its pure white plumage, devoid of any other color.
Tao Ning: “…”
Her face paled, refusing to acknowledge her mistake, she quickly walked away.
As if nothing had happened.
In Thunder God Valley, a massive, white-feathered bird let out a soft chuckle.
Her Soul Transformation tribulation was different from a human cultivator’s. Transforming from a chick to an adult Shangxi took years.
Lately, she had been struggling to control her surging power, her meridians aching, forcing her to revert to her true form for relief.
But it wasn’t as effective anymore. Her size fluctuated uncontrollably, her inexperience nearly crushing her precious plum blossom vase when she accidentally transformed from a hand-sized bird to a small mountain.
Fortunately, she had reacted quickly, shifting her weight to a nearby tree, which, though crushed under her weight, spared the vase and the delicate blossoms.
She was relieved.
Thankfully, the Grand Elder wasn’t in the vicinity. Destroying the carefully cultivated flora of her secluded valley would have been… awkward.
As Tao Ning walked away, the bird also took flight.
After a short distance, a single white feather detached itself, drifting down on the breeze.
A hand caught it, holding it up to the light. While invisible in daylight, under the moonlight, it would shimmer with a faint, ethereal glow.
The feather’s shaft was thicker than before, showing signs of maturity.
Tao Ning thought, The bird’s deception skills have improved.
Tucking the feather away, she continued her journey.
She planned to explore the world, awaiting Cen Dianshuang’s return. She had no specific destination. The original storyline glossed over this period.
With Cen Dianshuang in seclusion and the protagonist busy with his own adventures, Tao Ning could only wait, living each day as it came.
The next time the bird appeared, Tao Ning was fighting off a group of bandits.
It arrived at an inopportune moment, the battle nearly over, Tao Ning’s robes barely stained with blood, her opponents dead.
“You were asking for death,” she muttered, sheathing her sword, a single white feather, plucked from Cen Dianshuang’s bird form, adorning her hair.
A familiar feather.
Cen Dianshuang, meditating in the valley, her white robes flowing around her, a pair of snow-white wings folded behind her:
…Why is my feather in her hair?
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