Chapter 1021: Cao Family Blacksmith Shop

Dongyu, Zangjianzong.

The Dongshan mountain, revered by thousands of sword wielders, was like a colossal sword without a blade, its scabbard forming its base as it thrust upward, still reaching into the clouds.

Within Dongshan, sword intent surged everywhere.

The singing voice rose and fell with dramatic flair, as if someone were performing an opera with great enthusiasm.

Not until the golden scroll of light high above the nine heavens retracted and that domineering, lingering Dao sound faded away did the opera singing inside Dongshan cease.

"A hundred generations exchange for me, Ba Zun An..."

"Tsk tsk, after being so downcast for so long, you've finally recaptured that carefree spirit from decades ago..."

"How nostalgic."

Wen Ting, dressed in opera attire and barefoot, walked through the dim interior of the mountain, his tone full of reminiscence.

Before long, a low sobbing sound from the Xijian Chi in the distance caught his attention. Wen Ting tilted his ear to listen, a smirk curling at his lips as he hurried over.

Splash.

He stepped into the Xijian Chi, sending water spraying everywhere.

He found the source of the sobbing: a broken sword.

By rights, Zangjianzong only housed ownerless swords, their masters either fallen or missing. It was rare for a damaged blade like this to retain such vibrant life force after being discarded.

Yet this broken sword was crying, with water droplets on its surface.

It was unclear whether the drops came from the water in Xijian Chi or if the iron sword was truly shedding tears—an occurrence rare in a thousand years.

Wen Ting crouched down with a smile, gazing at the trembling, aggrieved broken sword, and reached out to flick it gently.

Buzz buzz buzz!

The broken sword struggled violently, as if deeply insulted.

Wen Ting smirked mockingly and said,

"Qing Ju, oh Qing Ju, why are you so stubborn?

"I told you to find a new master, but you wouldn't listen. Now look, your old master has returned, and you're the one left abandoned. You might spend the rest of your days with me in this dark, sunless Dongshan...

"Ha ha ha, how amusing, how amusing!"

"Woo woo woo!"

The broken sword cried even harder.

It desperately wanted to pull itself free and fly up to slash at the human before it.

But alas, swords in Xijian Chi, once ownerless, could never leave and were doomed to remain hidden from the world.

"Tsk tsk tsk..."

Wen Ting clicked his tongue, wearing a devilish smile.

Seeing the broken sword cry more fiercely, he pulled out a jade bottle and began collecting the droplets from its blade one by one.

"Cry more, cry more...

"Sword tears—these are a rarity in a thousand years! I haven't collected many, so you'd better put some effort into it."

Clang clang clang—

The broken sword, feeling utterly humiliated, erupted with intense sword intent. Even some of the rusted ancient swords in Xijian Chi couldn't withstand it and shattered.

"This can hurt me?"

Wen Ting remained unfazed, letting the sharp sword intent rage around him like a gentle breeze that only stirred his hair and clothes slightly.

He reached out, bent his finger, and flicked the broken sword hard again.

Instantly, Qing Ju let out a "woo woo woo" and shed more sword tears in pain.

Wen Ting burst into laughter, continuing to gather them in the jade bottle while mocking,

"Good, cry more!

"I wonder how long you'll hold out here with me... Won't submit to a new master? Then 'crying' is all you're good for in this life!

"Still waiting for Ba Zun An?

"Why don't you just go to heaven while you're at it!"

In Zhongyu, at an ordinary blacksmith shop.

Beneath the iron signboard reading "Cao Shi Blacksmith Shop," a burly man with a bare upper body and a kirin-like arm paced anxiously, not daring to make a fuss.

Clearly, he had been waiting a long time. Finally, he couldn't hold back and shouted into the shop,

"Is it ready yet?

"My pig farm still has over thirty pigs waiting! You set a time for me to pick up the knife, but now you're keeping me hanging— are we slaughtering them or not?!"

A moment later.

The half-closed wooden door creaked open, and a wave of heat rushed out, making the burly man step back, his face feeling scorched.

Soon, heavy footsteps thudded—thudded, and a figure like a small giant emerged.

The burly man was already tall.

At eight feet, his upper body was massive from years of slaughtering pigs, built like a bull.

But after the wooden door shook, the burly man felt a shadow loom over him as the small giant squeezed out, hunched over to fit.

The small giant held a diminutive knife in his hand, pinched effortlessly between two fingers.

Once outside, he straightened up, towering three heads taller than the pig slaughterer, his frame as thick as pillars—twice the width of the burly man!

"Big brother, big brother..."

The pig slaughterer shrank his neck, rubbing his hands, his voice weakening: "Is the knife ready? I'll take it. You've worked hard, ha."

"Here." The small giant grunted in a deep, muffled voice, showing no impatience as he handed over the knife, then turned and squeezed back into the cramped blacksmith shop without another word.

"Weirdo."

The pig slaughterer muttered, hefted the knife, marveled at its quality, tossed down the payment, and scurried away.

This "Cao Shi Blacksmith Shop" was famous in the neighborhood!

The father-and-son duo there made top-notch ironware—excellent quality and cheap prices.

The only oddity was...

The pair were not chatty and looked like giants, not like ordinary folk.

Rumor had it that not long ago, someone saw Cao Erzhu—that small giant—just carrying a cow in one hand and a tiger in the other down from Qingyuan Mountain.

And apparently, someone witnessed the fight...

It was brutally violent, like punching them one by one, smashing skulls—sounded bloody and thrilling.

People like that probably didn't need a knife to slaughter pigs; they could tear them apart by hand.

Inside the blacksmith shop.

Cao Erzhu thudded back to the bellows, hefted his custom massive iron hammer, and hammered away while still mulling over the heavenly phenomenon that had delayed him earlier.

"A hundred generations exchange for me, Ba Zun An, I summon the divine light with my command...

"Man, that sounded so cultured. Not like me—I just mumble and babble like a kid.

"Hmm... That person must be the Eighth Uncle that Dad mentioned, right?"

Amid the rolls of flesh on the small giant's face, his eyes sparkled with sheer admiration.

At twenty-six, in the prime of his vigor.

Who wouldn't feel their blood stir at such a miraculous sight and yearn for it?

Cao Erzhu reflected on his own life.

His mother had died in childbirth, his sister had run away fed up with their father's temper, and he had been hammering iron in this rundown shop for over twenty years.

Sometimes, he was sick of this mundane life.

He was strong too, but couldn't use any of his abilities, feeling like a useless fool.

He wanted to leave the shop, enter that mysterious realm, and fight those immortals and spirit refiners, but his father only let him practice with beasts and forbade him from stepping into the Lianling Jie.

"A hundred generations exchange for me, Ba Zun An..."

As Cao Erzhu hammered the iron blank, he muttered the phrase, his blood surging, heat pouring from his orifices, as if some unknown power stirred, igniting a spirit of rebellion.

"Dad!"

He glanced back, hammer still swinging, toward the sealed-off, lightless backyard.

In the dim backyard, blue lightning occasionally flashed, outlining the silhouette of an even more imposing giant.

The giant was bare-chested, draped in a large cloak even in the furnace-like blacksmith shop.

He held a massive wine barrel, which alone filled the entire backyard space.

As lightning flickered, illuminating briefly, his bulging arm muscles were visible—huge enough to tower three heads over the pig slaughterer from earlier.

Burp—

A heavy belch, thick with alcohol, accompanied by a nasal "hmm," responded to Cao Erzhu's call, indicating his father was still somewhat sober.

Cao Erzhu took a deep breath and said loudly,

"Dad!

"I've mastered the Divine Punishment Tribulation, grasped the six forms of Thorough Divine Thought, and learned your 'Gentleman Violent Hammer Technique' up to the twelfth level. The Wangzuo Body can't advance further, and I've reached the Wangzuo Dao Realm in spirit refining..."

Burp! A belch interrupted Cao Erzhu's recitation, followed by a slurry, thunderous voice like mumbling in a dream: "Get... to the point, burp!"

Cao Erzhu shivered and said weakly, "Dad, I, I want to go out."

"Where to?"

"Out... out for a bit."

"How far?"

"Pretty... pretty far."

"When will you be back?"

"Don't... don't know..."

There was a boom.

It was like muffled thunder exploding in the blacksmith shop, followed by two streaks of lightning crisscrossing toward him: "Erzhu, what are you saying?"

Cao Erzhu didn't dare meet his father's gaze, turned his head, and kept hammering, drawing on the boldness of "a hundred generations exchange for me, Ba Zun An," and said firmly, "I actually want to see the outside world... take a look around."

With a thunderous voice from the darkness, "If you go, who's going to take care of me?"

Cao Erzhu paused his hammering, scratched his head with the red-hot iron hammer, and said with confusion, "Yeah, I guess you're right..."

Burp!

Another heavy belch. The backyard giant gulped down the wine barrel, tossed it aside, wiped his mouth, and sobered up a bit as he said,

"The outside world is too dangerous. Did your Eighth Uncle trick you? That line of his was just baiting kids like you to go and die."

"How old are you? Even with what you've mastered, do you know how perilous the Lianling Jie is?"

Cao Erzhu shrank his neck, eyes full of curiosity: "How dangerous?"

The backyard giant sighed deeply. This time, instead of yelling, he spoke earnestly,

"Your Eighth Uncle could fight a Zongshi innate and take on a Shengdi in Taixu, but he still got knocked down for decades. What does that tell you about the dangers out there?

"The Lianling world is full of geniuses like him! And back in the day, he couldn't even beat me!

"Can you beat me? If not, you'd just be delivering yourself as easy prey."

Cao Erzhu mumbled in agreement.

He couldn't even handle one of his father's hands—how could he take on those geniuses outside?

But from what he'd heard around town, geniuses like Eighth Uncle weren't that common, right?

The cloaked giant in the backyard seemed to read his son's thoughts and snorted like thunder, shaking dust from the ceiling:

"What's the point of listening to neighborhood gossip?

"I'm from the same era as your Eighth Uncle—believe me, not the legends."

Cao Erzhu felt ashamed; his father made a lot of sense and was so eloquent.

The backyard giant, determined to quash any thoughts of his son leaving, pressed on: "Have you mastered the Thunder Element Mysteries?"

"Not... not quite yet." Cao Erzhu blushed with humble shame.

"Hmph! Without mastering the mysteries, you think you can go out and make it?"

His father's mockery hit hard, as always:

"The outside world is crawling with mysteries! I could rattle off examples like Ba Zun An and Yumo off the top of my head—think about how terrifying they are!

"Geniuses everywhere— what would you do out there? Not even a basic mystery under your belt, and you have the nerve to say you want to go? You don't even know the meaning of 'death'!"

Cao Erzhu listened, tears welling up, finally abandoning his foolish idea. The Lianling Jie was truly terrifying.

"I get it..."

"No going out—I'm out of wine. Go to the cellar and get some."

"Oh, okay."

Watching his son head to the basement, Cao Yihan fell into thought.

"A hundred generations exchange for me, Ba Zun An...

"Heh, how arrogant! Is that his way of announcing his return?"

He shifted, trying to stand, but as his body moved, the sacred energy in his sea of qi exploded like thunder, on the verge of awakening.

A surge of power coursed through his limbs, as if breaking free from layers of shackles...

"Dammit!"

Cao Yihan cursed and slumped back down.

The more he thought, the angrier he got, ripping off the iron ring around his neck, which held nine tokens each inscribed with the character "Jin" for prohibition.

He clenched his fist, about to crush it in frustration.

But in the end, Cao Yihan held back.

"What a load of crap these prohibition orders are—nine aren't enough to suppress a Semi-Saints realm. Dao Qiong Cang, you're useless!"

The backyard giant pointed at the ceiling and raged,

"You showy old Daoist, if you want me to stay put, send more wine!"

At the same time.

Because of that Shengdi Jinzhao scroll and the line "a hundred generations exchange for me, Ba Zun An."

Almost everyone from the previous era heard this declaration:

"I'm back!"

This time, it wasn't just directed at the Shengshen Hall or lurking as a shadowy figure behind the saints' battles.

No, Ba Zun An, the Holy Slave, was boldly proclaiming to the entire continent's five domains:

"I'm back!"

If the lingering echoes from the Yunlun Mountains' sacred treasure eruption had given people illusory, bubble-like images—making many wonder but not fully dare to confirm if Ba Zun An had truly revived—

Then this Shengdi Jinzhao left no room for doubt!

The sword cultivators of Dongyu were celebrating, while the Semi-Saints of the five domains trembled...

And the instigator, Ba Zun An himself, after issuing the decree high above Ginyin Cliff, lost the protection of the Shengdi power and plummeted like a falling star, crashing straight down.

"What bad luck."

One moment, Shuigui was still immersed in the aura and atmosphere Ba Zun An had created; the next, seeing the "Old Eighth Sword Immortal" hurtling down without any grace, he was so annoyed his mouth twisted.

How pathetic!

With a wave of his hand, a water flow caught the powerless Ba Zun An, preventing him from smashing into a pulp. Shuigui let out a long sigh.

"Water... water..."

Ba Zun An was completely drained, barely able to speak after getting up, his voice weak.

Cen Qiaofu covered his face and handed over the wine flask, not uttering a word, as if too embarrassed to face the current state of this decree issuer.

Gulp gulp.

Ba Zun An chugged several mouthfuls of the medicinal wine before feeling his weakened body regain some strength, no longer like a limp shrimp.

Rumble rumble...

The air exploded with sounds.

Ba Zun An looked up to see the Sky City descending from the heavens, hurtling toward them.

The ancient city was falling fast—likely less than half an incense stick's time before it crushed everyone below.

"Time to reel in the net."

Ba Zun An turned to Shuigui.

"You you you..."

Before Shuigui could move, an untimely voice chimed in from the side.

Ba Zun An paused and glanced over.

There stood a one-armed, lame old man, reverted to his original form by the Shengdi aura, now flushed and excited.

He had shoved his fingers into his mouth, legs clamped together, hopping up and down like a giddy girl.

Seeing his idol look his way, the old man's eyes widened like glowing bulbs, fizzing with fervent light, even steaming from his scalp.

"You you you..." Xiuyuan Ke was too excited to form complete sentences.

"?" Ba Zun An raised an eyebrow.

"I I I..." Xiuyuan Ke nearly fainted on the spot.

Ba Zun An took a deep breath, gave this stranger a long look, then turned to Cen Qiaofu and Shuigui.

"Who's the stutterer?"