Chapter 33: Lord Xingde

Liu Xiaolou left the east annex and walked to the main hall. With a quick leap, he landed on the roof eaves, searched a few spots among the beams and columns underneath, and sure enough, found the key to the main hall. As soon as he opened the door, he was met by a statue over ten feet tall. The figure wore a tall crown and looked down from above, its gaze bearing down on Liu Xiaolou, sending him into another spell of deep and hazy thought. On either side of the statue were vertical couplets that read: "Retribution strikes as surely as an echo; heaven brings no misfortune without cause. Fear teaches self-restraint; those who live with care may lengthen their lives." Above hung a horizontal plaque inscribed: Illumination Pierces the Hidden and Subtle. Liu Xiaolou seemed to understand, but after thinking it over for a moment, he was left just as confused as before. He couldn’t make sense of it. He circled around the statue. The hall was bare and simple. Aside from the statue, an offering table, and a few straw mats, there was nothing else. He rummaged around behind the statue and under the table but didn’t find anything useful. So he closed the door and left, then opened the west wing using the same method. Inside the west wing were just two rooms. One was large, taking up about two-thirds of the space. It had a stove, a food cabinet, firewood, a rice jar, and a wooden bucket. A string of smoked cured meat hung on the wall, and in the corners were some brooms, buckets, and other odds and ends. The smaller room was a bedroom with a small bed. The cabinet against the wall was completely empty. Liu Xiaolou guessed it had probably belonged to a servant. A thick layer of dust covered the room, a clear sign it hadn’t been used in a long time. Judging from all this, the badly injured man with the fine beard must be the master of the temple, Lord Xingde. Liu Xiaolou returned to the east annex. The bearded man was still asleep, though he coughed now and then. Liu Xiaolou stepped into the room on the right. Along the walls were shelves stacked in tiers, holding all kinds of furnaces large and small, an assortment of blades, oddly shaped blocks of wood, and mineral stones in a variety of colors. In the center stood a furnace stand. At its base was a round copper lid, flush with the floor. When Liu Xiaolou pried it open, a blast of heat surged out from the fire pit below, nearly singing his eyebrows and hair. The copper lid was an inch thick, designed to block the heat. On its underside were four engraved characters: Nine-Star Earth Fire. So this was the legendary subterranean flame, said to be powerful enough to forge weapons and refine pills? Driven by curiosity, Liu Xiaolou leaned closer to examine it. He tried to imagine how the earth fire rose from deep within the mountain, all the way to the summit. But no matter how long he pondered, he couldn’t make sense of it. Eventually, he put the lid back in place, sealing off the pit. The furnaces, the blades, the wooden blocks.... everything was ordinary. There was no hint of spiritual energy. Even the colored stones meant nothing to him; he didn’t recognize a single one, and none of them gave off any kind of strange aura. He couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. So this weaponsmith was broke too. All his worldly possessions were just the odds and ends scattered by his bedside—less than what Liu Xiaolou himself owned. Clearly, the man wasn’t doing all that well. His skills must be pretty limited. Still, since Wei Hongqing had personally recommended him, Liu Xiaolou figured he was probably capable of crafting a basic formation plate. That should be within his reach. So Liu Xiaolou made up his mind to lend this Lord Xingde a hand, take care of him for a few days while he recovered. Once he was back on his feet, it’d be a bit awkward for him to ask for payment, wouldn’t it? Having made up his mind, Liu Xiaolou stopped wandering around and walked over to the bearded man’s bedside. “Lord Xingde? Senior Xingde?” he called softly. The man stirred in a daze at the sound of his voice. He gave a faint grunt and closed his eyes again, mumbling, “Water... water...” Liu Xiaolou had woken him just to confirm his identity. Once he got a response and was sure the man was indeed Lord Xingde, he began administering aid. He fetched a bowl of water and helped him drink it. Then he checked the pulse at his wrist. Compared to earlier, when he found him out in the snow, it had stabilized slightly. But when Liu Xiaolou tried to probe deeper into his heart and lung meridians, he suddenly felt a strong backlash of true qi, so forceful that it shook his own true qi. At least Qi Refinement level eight or higher, Liu Xiaolou thought, and couldn’t help feeling a sense of respect. The presence of a true qi backlash meant that, while the injuries were serious, they weren’t fatal. With careful recovery, he should be fine in time. Liu Xiaolou headed to the west wing. He scooped some rice from the jar, rinsed it, started a fire, added water, and cooked a thick pot of porridge. From the top, he skimmed off a bowl of rice water, brought it back, propped Lord Xingde up, and carefully fed it to him. Then he returned to the kitchen, sliced half a piece of the cured meat hanging on the wall, set the slices in a wooden bowl, and steamed them. When he lifted the lid, the savory smell of the meat filled the room, instantly whetting his appetite. It was, by far, the best meal he’d had since arriving on the mountain. After eating, Liu Xiaolou resumed his cultivation, but this time, instead of training beneath the eaves outside, he boldly moved straight into the artifact-refining room. Snow had fallen through the night, but by the hour of the dragon the next morning, it finally stopped. Liu Xiaolou pushed open the door and walked to the edge of the cliff, gazing out across the mountains. Countless peaks were blanketed in pure white snow, glowing with golden light under the morning sun. The view was breathtaking. Over the next few days, Liu Xiaolou continued taking care of Lord Xingde. The rice water he fed him gradually got richer, with a bit of oil added, then he started mixing in rice porridge, wild greens, and finely minced bits of cured meat. The only real hassle was helping Lord Xingde relieve himself. Between fetching the chamber pot, lifting him up, and softly coaxing him along, Liu Xiaolou stayed busier than he’d expected. By the third evening, he even had to help Lord Xingde with a major bowel movement. He hurried to the artifact-refining room, tore two sheets of yellow talisman paper off a rack, and personally cleaned up the mess. After helping him lie back down, Liu Xiaolou couldn’t help muttering, “Senior Xingde, back when I was tending to my teacher, even that didn’t go this far. You owe me one, really. Once you’re up and about, you better show some proper gratitude.” But Lord Xingde had already begun snoring softly, sound asleep, clearly not hearing a word. Shaking his head, Liu Xiaolou returned to the room and resumed his cultivation. Around midnight, he felt a subtle loosening at the Quchi acupoint. Containing his excitement, he was just about to gather more true qi and push harder when something felt off. He opened his eyes and, in the dim lamplight, saw a man leaning against the doorway. It was Lord Xingde. Liu Xiaolou blinked in surprise, then broke into a smile. “Senior, you’re awake?” Lord Xingde stared at him for a moment, then asked, “Kid, who are you?” “You don’t remember? You were hurt and collapsed on the mountain path. I brought you back here.” “I know that... I’m asking who you are.” “I came looking for you, senior," Liu Xiaolou answered. "I admire your reputation as a weaponsmith. I was hoping you’d craft a formation plate for me.” Lord Xingde waved a hand. “Leave.” Liu Xiaolou was speechless. “....” Lord Xingde urged him again, “Go!” Liu Xiaolou blinked. “That's not.... senior, you’re injured. I stayed to take care of you!” “I don’t need you to,” Lord Xingde replied coldly. That ticked Liu Xiaolou off. “You’d be dead without me! I saved your life, and this is how you thank me? Seriously?” Lord Xingde tossed a small pouch at him. “There’s gold, jade, and spirit stones in there. Take it. Now go.” Liu Xiaolou exploded. “Who do you think I am? You think I’m here for that pocket change? Is your life worth a few lousy spirit stones and a few taels of gold?” Lord Xingde looked irritated, about to snap back, but suddenly broke into a fit of coughing. The kind he couldn’t stop. He doubled over, struggling for breath. Liu Xiaolou sneered. “Good, choke on it. You ungrateful old bastard. Even on Wulong Mountain we know how to repay kindness. Someone gives you a drop of water, you repay them with a spring. But you? You don’t know the first thing about gratitude, rude old...” He was still ranting when he noticed Lord Xingde had collapsed to the floor, coughing so hard he couldn’t hold himself up, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth again. Liu Xiaolou cut himself off, let out a frustrated grunt, then went over and hoisted him up, tossing him back onto the bed. Lord Xingde finally stopped coughing and, between heavy breaths, rasped, “Heart-nourishing pill... buy a Heart-nourishing pill...”