Wang Da Fu

The carriage wheels rolled over the bluestone road with a dull rumble, while the clamor of Flying Sword City filtered faintly through the not-so-thick carriage walls.

Inside the carriage, a greasy-faced, middle-aged fat man covered in flesh was spraying spittle as he droned on beside a similarly round sixteen- or seventeen-year-old youth dressed in a bright yellow brocade robe.

"Da Fu, let your father nag you a few more times.

"Once you enter the Hundred Refinements Sect, spend spirit stones when you need to. Never be stingy! And don't skimp when it comes to greasing the right palms!"

Wang Youcai—the head of a small family that ran a spirit rice business in Flying Sword City, a cultivator at the peak of the Qi Refining Stage—gave his son Wang Da Fu's thick shoulder a hard pat, making the folds of fat on his face tremble.

"Our Wang Family may be a small household with shallow foundations, but you're your father's only heir!

"As for spirit stones, even if I have to tighten my belt, I'll provide for you!

"What matters is that you master the art of refining artifacts, learn it inside and out. That is the foundation for making a living and bringing honor to our ancestors! As for fighting, killing, competing, and struggling with others, stay as far away from it as you can. Don't touch it at all! Artifacts have no eyes, spells are merciless, and if anything were to happen..."

Wang Da Fu had thick brows and large eyes, but now his eyelids drooped, his face filled with helpless despair.

His father had been repeating the same things ever since they started packing yesterday. Wang Da Fu's ears were practically callused from hearing it. He could only stay silent, unconsciously picking at the Cloud Patterns embroidered in