Chapter Eighteen: Gong Ye Sun

Before long, a luxurious and exquisite carriage arrived at the entrance, from which a man and a woman descended. The man had jet-black hair bound with a white silk ribbon and wore robes of pure white satin. Around his waist hung a long white silk sash adorned with a piece of mutton-fat jade. His brows extended to his temples, his eyes were long and gentle, his nose straight, and his skin fair and smooth—a figure untouched by the dust of the world, ethereal in bearing.

Dugu Ling hurried out to greet them, saying, “So it is Ouyang Chi, the Young Lord of the city, come in person. Forgive me for not welcoming you sooner.” He then turned to Yuan Shanshan, who had come along with Ouyang Chi after notifying him that morning. “I asked you to inform the Young Lord to fetch his sword—why not simply send someone to collect it? How could you trouble the Young Lord himself?” Yuan Shanshan was about to reply, but Ouyang Chi interjected with a smile, “Do not blame her; it was my own insistence. For the past month, Brother Dugu has labored tirelessly over my sword. It is only proper that I come to see him myself.”

This year at the forge had taught Dugu Ling much about the ways of the world. No longer the naive and innocent youth he once was, he had grown calm and steady, mature beyond his years. “Since you are here, Young Lord Ouyang, please come inside. The smithy’s hall is far too noisy with the clamor of hammers. Let us find a quiet place to talk.” At his words, he asked Yuan Shanshan to have the Young Lord’s sword packed and delivered later, then led Ouyang Chi to the reception hall in the rear courtyard.

“Are Elder Yuan and Brother Tianci out today?” Ouyang Chi asked as he fanned himself. Ouyang Chi, it should be said, was the cherished only son born late in life to Ouyang Jing, the Lord of the city. Yet he had not become arrogant or petty because of this favor; though shrewd, he was gentle and refined, and well loved by the citizens of Cold Moon City. Dugu Ling had interacted with him before, and the two got along quite well.

“My master and senior brother have gone out and I don’t know when they’ll return.” The two sat down, sipping tea as they conversed.

“Young Lord Ouyang, surely your visit today is about more than simply thanking me?” Dugu Ling took a sip of tea and spoke. “As expected, you saw through me, Brother Dugu. Of course, I came first to thank you, but more importantly, I wanted to discuss something with you. I know you also plan to participate in the upcoming Divine Hidden Pavilion’s entrance ceremony in a month.”

“The Divine Hidden Pavilion is the greatest cultivation sect in our Hundred Beasts Mountains, its strength unfathomable. If I am fortunate enough to be accepted as a disciple, it would greatly strengthen my ability to govern Cold Moon City in the future. To be frank, though the city seems peaceful and prosperous, beneath the surface, there are turbulent undercurrents.”

“The Gongye family, in charge of the military, leads the other clans in restless ambition. Even neighboring Sunset City and Morning Star City are preparing to seize any opportunity.” At this, Ouyang Chi’s brow furrowed with deep unease.

“Is that so? I know of Sunset City and Morning Star City—friction with them is nothing new. But why would the Gongye family act so?” Dugu Ling asked.

“I’ll tell you something, Brother Dugu; it’s no secret. Ordinary people live just over a hundred years, Immortals around two hundred, High Immortals perhaps three hundred, but Supreme Immortals can live a millennium. My father is a Supreme Immortal, but an old battle left him with a lingering ailment, so he’ll live only about five hundred years. Now, he has but five years left—a mere blink to cultivators like us.”

“So at this Divine Hidden Pavilion’s entrance ceremony, I hope we can look out for each other, advance and retreat together. Would you agree?” Ouyang Chi looked at Dugu Ling, his voice earnest.

“With such a sincere request, how could I refuse? Since you trust me and have told me so much, I will accompany you to the Divine Hidden Pavilion’s entrance ceremony in a month,” Dugu Ling replied.

“Thank you, Brother Dugu! If you ever encounter trouble, I, Ouyang Chi, will do all I can to help you.” Ouyang Chi was visibly moved.

“In that case, I’ll take my leave today. In a month, I’ll come again.” Ouyang Chi cupped his hands in farewell and handed Dugu Ling a book.

Dugu Ling opened it and saw three bold characters on the first page: “Cold Moon Technique.” He hastily returned it to Ouyang Chi, saying, “I cannot accept such a precious thing.”

The “Cold Moon Technique” was a rare earth-grade cultivation manual, priceless, and the very foundation upon which Ouyang Jing had established Cold Moon City years ago.

“Please accept it, Brother Dugu. I know you haven’t started cultivating on your own yet because you lack a suitable manual, and once a cultivation method is chosen, it’s nearly impossible to change. Though this ‘Cold Moon Technique’ is only a high earth-grade manual, not as lofty as the Divine Hidden Pavilion’s heaven-grade ‘Divine Hidden Scripture,’ it is still an extraordinary treasure. I am already indebted to you for risking so much to accompany me—if you refuse, I’ll feel truly ashamed.” After much persuasion, Dugu Ling finally accepted the manual.

In fact, he did need a cultivation method. To explain: there are cultivation manuals and technique manuals. The higher the level of a cultivation manual, the faster it channels energy; the stronger the technique, the greater its power. Think of cultivation manuals as inner strength, and techniques as external skills—both are essential.

A powerful technique without a strong foundation cannot last in battle; with a formidable cultivation method, even mediocre techniques can make one nearly invincible. Technique manuals are rare, and cultivation manuals even more so. Dugu Ling had not begun cultivation early not for lack of a teacher, but because he had no suitable manual, and changing later would require a near-impossible cleansing of body and spirit. Thus, a good manual determines one’s future.

Of course, there are exceptions—history records many who, with great talent, improved low-grade manuals through insight to create their own higher-level methods, but such cases are rare indeed.

After accepting the “Cold Moon Technique,” Dugu Ling escorted Ouyang Chi to the door. At that moment, another carriage stopped before the Iron Ox Forge.

A leering, sharp-featured young man with narrow eyes, long hair, dressed in black and white robes, and holding a fan, descended arrogantly from a carriage even grander than Ouyang Chi’s. On its roof was a fist-sized night-luminescent pearl, the body plated with shining gold, even the wheels bespoke extraordinary craftsmanship.

“Well, if it isn’t the Young Lord Ouyang! To what do we owe the honor?” the sinister-looking youth sneered.

“Gongye Sun, do I need your permission to go where I please? I’m here for my sword. What brings you here? I recall Brother Dugu already forged a sword for you,” Ouyang Chi retorted, his tone sharp.

This was Gongye Sun, the eldest son of the Gongye family, commanders of the city’s troops.

“Why trouble yourself, Young Lord? I see you’re leaving—I wish you a safe journey,” Gongye Sun replied haughtily.

Ouyang Chi suppressed his anger, knowing this was not the time to quarrel. With a cold snort, he boarded his carriage and left.

Watching him go, Gongye Sun seethed inwardly. “Let you live a little longer—when your father dies, we’ll see how arrogant you remain. Or maybe you won’t even have to wait that long; this Divine Hidden Pavilion entrance ceremony will be your end.”

He strode toward the forge. “Young Master Gongye, forgive me for not greeting you sooner. Please, come in,” Dugu Ling said respectfully, though inwardly he had cursed this scoundrel thousands of times. His smile, however, never faltered.

Since settling in Cold Moon City, Dugu Ling had heard plenty of stories about Gongye Sun—bullying women, drinking, gambling, every vice imaginable. Even one of the Iron Ox Forge’s own smiths had been whipped twenty times for blocking Gongye Sun’s carriage, but with Gongye Tu’s power, they had no choice but to endure.

Gongye Sun sneered, “At least you know your place. Let me be frank—I know you’re attending the Divine Hidden Pavilion’s entrance ceremony. You must know the rules: the wilderness treasure hunt can’t be passed alone. Since we’re from the same city, you can tag along with me. If I’m admitted, I’ll bring you in too. How about it?”

Dugu Ling laughed coldly to himself—he only wanted Dugu Ling for his immense strength. Outwardly, he replied, “I fear I must disappoint Young Master Gongye. I’m only going for the experience—I may not even join that trial, since one’s life could easily be lost.” He feigned a timid expression.

Seeing Dugu Ling act so cowardly, Gongye Sun sneered to himself. “So much for all that strength—you’re just a spineless wretch.” Without another word, he left the forge. Dugu Ling escorted him to the door, watching his departing figure with a cold smile.

After sending the two away, Dugu Ling felt a great weight lift from his shoulders. Yuan Shanshan ran up to him. “Uncle Dugu, what are you thinking about? Shall I peel an apple for you?”

Dugu Ling smiled, gazing at the distant mountains, inwardly steeling his resolve, utterly unaware of the love shining in Shanshan’s eyes as she looked at him.

That night, Master Yuan and Senior Brother Yuan returned. Dugu Ling went to their room. “Have you made up your mind?” the old man asked.

“I have decided,” Dugu Ling replied with resolve.

“Very well. When you go to Cold Moon Mountain, be extremely careful. If you don’t find thousand-year Blacksteel within half a month, return at once. The century-old Blacksteel in our Iron Ox Forge will suffice to make a fine mortal artifact,” the old man said.

“Yes, Master, I understand.” Bowing to Yuan Longba and Yuan Tianci, he said, “Then I’ll depart now, lest Shanshan make a fuss when she sees me leave tomorrow.”

The two nodded. Yuan Tianci added, “Take that black-iron warhammer with you. Don’t underestimate it—though it has no special powers, it is still a peerless magical weapon. Off you go.”

Dugu Ling’s plan was to forge a mighty weapon for himself in this last month, mainly to help in the entrance ceremony’s trials. A fine weapon would greatly increase his chances, and others came to him with the same intent. But for his own weapon, he would use only the finest materials.

His master had told him that, in the Cold Moon Mountains near the city, someone had once found thousand-year Blacksteel, but, not knowing its value, had discarded it as a common stone. Old Master Yuan had later heard and searched for it, but found only century-old Blacksteel.

Nonetheless, this convinced him that thousand-year Blacksteel did exist in the mountains. Blacksteel was not true steel, but a jet-black stone that darkened with age, becoming deep as charcoal after a thousand years.

What was its use? Blacksteel had a “metal memory” property: when added to weapons, they became incredibly resilient, almost impossible to break, and swords made with it would never chip. The older the Blacksteel, the better the effect.

After preparing everything, Dugu Ling set out for Cold Moon Mountain, unaware that a shadow followed closely behind.

P.S.: This chapter is over 4,000 words—consider it a double update. If you enjoyed it, please show some kindness and add it to your collection. Many thanks!