Chapter Six: Give It My All!

Not good!

Suddenly finding himself targeted by so many with ill intent, even though Tu Lu was now a cultivator, he felt his scalp tingle with dread.

Because here… there was more than one cultivator present!

“What’s with the hostility? I was just kindly reminding him,” Tu Lu muttered under his breath. Yet under the oppressive stares of the crowd, he slowly backed away, edging toward the outer rim of the gathering.

Not until he had fully withdrawn did he notice that not a single gaze held the slightest goodwill; in fact, they were positively icy. He had no doubt that, were it not for their fear of disturbing Zhao Yuyang’s inscription process, these people might have flown into a rage and struck him down on the spot!

The injustice of it made Tu Lu seethe with frustration.

“Hmph! If not for your own safety, I wouldn’t have bothered warning you!” he thought bitterly.

Still, he noticed that Zhao Yuyang’s method of inscribing the twelfth rune had already changed from what he remembered. This comforted him somewhat, making him feel his warning hadn’t been totally in vain.

Just as he was about to leave, having completely exited the crowd, a ring of emerald energy suddenly radiated out from within, enveloping the entire Celestial Dragon Workshop!

His steps halted abruptly.

He then noticed the square-faced middle-aged man’s expression suddenly relax.

Had he succeeded?

The thought had barely formed in Tu Lu’s mind when the square-faced man turned and looked directly at him!

That one glance seemed to pierce him through, making Tu Lu’s scalp prickle once more. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, a wave of intense cheers erupted from the crowd, surging forward and blocking his view.

“No wonder you’re called Master Zhao! Success on the first try, and the artifact remains unscathed—your reputation is truly well deserved!”

“Master, your brilliance astonishes us all. Today, our horizons have been vastly broadened!”

“My admiration knows no bounds!”

Compliments poured forth from the throng. Tu Lu, just regaining his senses, heard their words and felt a profound sense of injustice.

It was simply unfair. If not for his warning, that so-called Master Zhao would have failed long ago! Yet these people only cared to congratulate Zhao, glaring and grumbling at Tu Lu instead, making his dissatisfaction grow ever deeper.

“Not a disappointment!” Zhao Yuyang at last took a deep breath, stood up, a faint smile appearing on his face as he clasped his hands in thanks to those around him. Then, his demeanor turning solemn, he approached the square-faced man, bowed his head, and respectfully offered him the bamboo staff.

A hush fell over the crowd as all eyes turned to the square-faced man, some filled with doubt and curiosity.

They all knew the square-faced man was the owner of the emerald bamboo staff, but had paid it little mind. Yet now, seeing Zhao Yuyang’s deferential gesture, they could no longer ignore him.

Zhao Yuyang, as the chief inscriber of Divine Wind City, held a position of great prestige and was himself a major cultivator in the late Mountain-Moving stage. Why, then, was he showing such respect to this man? Who exactly was this middle-aged man?

“Master Zhao, your etiquette is as admirable as your skill,” someone finally said awkwardly, breaking the silence. Yet most remained silent, especially the cultivators who’d dealt with Zhao Yuyang before; they knew this was more than a matter of courtesy.

Their uncertain gazes shifted to the square-faced man, and the flattery directed at Zhao Yuyang grew quieter as attention drifted to the true center of power.

The square-faced man, however, said nothing, merely accepting the bamboo staff with a calm gesture.

All eyes watched his every move.

Zhao Yuyang watched anxiously, barely daring to breathe.

The crowd’s praise had faded, but he felt no resentment. He knew well the identity of the man before him—so exalted that even the Lord of Divine Wind City would bow his head. Zhao Yuyang would pay any price for a chance at his favor—face was a small thing by comparison.

“Not bad,” the square-faced man finally remarked after inspecting the staff, a small smile breaking his reserve.

Delighted, Zhao Yuyang looked up just as the man casually tossed him a golden Thunder Stone and turned to leave.

Zhao Yuyang froze.

“A mid-grade Thunder Stone!” someone in the crowd shouted, and all drew sharp breaths.

Thunder Stones were divided into nine grades: blue for the lowest three, gold for the middle three, purple for the highest. This gold-glimmering stone was fourth grade, equivalent to a thousand first-grade stones—a hefty sum indeed!

But Zhao Yuyang’s expression changed dramatically. Cradling the Thunder Stone, he hurried after the man.

“Sir, please wait! It was my honor to inscribe the runes for you—no reward is necessary!”

The square-faced man paused, looked back, and replied calmly, “No need to refuse. Just accept it.”

With a wave, he strode out of the crowd.

Zhao Yuyang hesitated, frozen in place, unsure what to do next.

By now, everyone realized this was a man of great importance. No matter their private doubts, all made way for him.

But none expected that, once clear of the throng, the square-faced man would head straight for Tu Lu!

Everyone was stunned.

“What’s going on? Why would this great man seek out that weakling?”

“No idea. Could it be that Master Zhao was nearly disturbed by that man, and now he’s going to punish him for it?”

They exchanged bewildered glances. After all, it had seemed that Tu Lu was babbling nonsense, trying to disrupt Zhao Yuyang’s concentration—even Zhao’s own face had gone dark at the time.

“That can’t be it—the artifact wasn’t damaged. A man of such stature wouldn’t stoop so low!”

“Exactly! There’s always some luck involved in inscription. For him to casually gift a mid-grade Thunder Stone, he’s clearly wealthy beyond measure. Even if the artifact had been damaged, he wouldn’t vent his anger on a nobody!”

Some shook their heads, but as the crowd whispered among themselves, no one noticed Zhao Yuyang’s pupils contract in sudden alarm.

“It’s him!”

The mistake Tu Lu had pointed out—others might have missed it, but Zhao Yuyang knew it well. It was a grave error, one that could have caused conflict between runes, leading not merely to inscription failure but likely to the destruction of the artifact itself—a consequence too dire to contemplate.

He had only performed the inscription publicly to show off before the square-faced man, his preparations pushing his chances of success to over eighty percent. The remainder depended on luck and his state of mind, yet he had still nearly failed.

Fortunately, no one else had noticed, so he’d hoped the square-faced man hadn’t either.

But clearly, the man had seen everything, just choosing not to hold it against him.

The thought made Zhao Yuyang break out in a cold sweat.

Amid all eyes, the square-faced man strolled toward Tu Lu, drawing ever closer—until even Tu Lu himself began to panic.

No one else remained by his side; it was obvious the man was coming straight for him!

“Young man, I want you to inscribe runes on this Spirit-Marked Staff for me once more. If you fail, there is no blame. If you succeed, you shall stay by my side,” the square-faced man said, smiling as he handed the emerald bamboo staff to Tu Lu. With a light flick of his finger, a crisp note rang out, and the air shimmered with rippling emerald waves.

Cries of alarm broke out as, within the wave’s reach, everyone’s appearance began to change!

For most, it was unremarkable, but the greatest shock came at Tu Lu’s side: in an instant, the destitute-looking middle-aged man transformed into a youth of barely more than ten years!

Even more astonishing, his vitality surged powerfully, as if some hidden chain had been broken, unleashing an immense force that reverberated outward. Even the ordinary martial artists felt the terrifying energy, their hair whipped by the gale that rushed past…