A Grand "Disturbance"

The next morning, the atmosphere in the Sea God Pavilion was decidedly off.

Feng Wuyu kicked the door open.

To be precise, he first slammed open the outer gate of the Sea God Pavilion, then stormed through the front corridor, his boots clattering on the flagstones, making the soul guide lamps hanging in the corridor sway.

Seeing his expression, the two inner court disciples guarding the door didn't dare to stop him.

His old face was flushed crimson, his beard bristled, his eyes bulged like copper bells, and he looked like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

"Pavilion Master—!!!"

His voice arrived before he did.

The shout was full of energy, making the paper on the Sea God Pavilion's windows hum.

In the main hall, most people had already arrived.

Long Yeyue sat in a grand armchair next to the main seat, holding a cup of tea. Hearing the commotion, she didn't even lift an eyelid.

"He's here."

She said, her tone as flat as if she were commenting on the pleasant weather.

Cai Yue'er sat below her. Hearing this, she sighed softly, closed the ancient book she was reading, and placed it on her lap.

"I knew it," she murmured, "His expression was already wrong when he came back last night."

Zhuo Shi sat opposite, arms crossed, looking impatient and eager to watch the show.

Ya Li sat by the window, sunlight falling on her. She was looking down, fiddling with a medicinal herb. Hearing Feng Wuyu's voice, she merely tilted her head slightly.

Lan Muzi stood by the doorway, one hand on the doorframe. He glanced outside, then silently moved aside.

Tang Yinmeng sat in a corner, a book on soul guide theory spread out before her, but she hadn't absorbed a single word.

She had been summoned today, or rather, summoned by Long Yeyue, for reasons unknown.

"He's here, he's here," Lan Muzi turned back, his tone as gentle as if announcing good news, "Old Feng is here."

Before he finished speaking, Feng Wuyu had already burst into the main hall.

He stood in the center of the hall, his chest heaving, his mouth opening and closing. For a moment, he was too angry to speak.

Everyone watched him.

Long Yeyue took a sip of tea and said slowly, "What's wrong? Didn't sleep well last night?"

"Didn't sleep well?!"

Feng Wuyu's voice rose by eight octaves, "I did more than not sleep well! I didn't sleep at all all night!!"

He turned towards Yun Ming, extending a trembling finger.

"Pavilion Master! Your good son! Do you know what he did last night?!"

Yun Ming sat in the main seat, his expression calm and unruffled.

He glanced at Feng Wuyu and said in a faint tone, "What about Jing Heng?"

"What about him?!"

Feng Wuyu's beard bristled another inch, "He—he—"

He took a deep breath, held it for a long time, and finally blurted out:

"He came into my forging room and stole things!"

The main hall fell silent for a moment.

Zhuo Shi was the first to break, letting out a snort of laughter.

"Stole things?"

Zhuo Shi crossed his legs, a look of schadenfreude on his face, "Stole what from you?"

Feng Wuyu's mouth twitched, as if a knife had been plunged into his heart.

"Black God Iron," his voice suddenly dropped, filled with a grief akin to losing a child, "The Black God Iron I spent tens of millions to buy from Zhen Hua... seven pieces... not a single one left..."

Zhuo Shi's smile froze.

Black God Iron? Tens of millions?

He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Feng Wuyu continued his list.

"Titanium Crystal! The Titanium Crystal I saved for two years! Such a large piece—"

He gestured with his hand, "Gone!"

"Sinking Silver, Magic Silver, Star Silver, Crystal Silver, Dark Iron, Crimson Mother, Star Steel, Tungsten Steel... He swept through my finished product room! All the best quality items are gone, like a swarm of locusts!"

"And—" his voice suddenly choked.

Everyone noticed that his eyes had turned red.

Not from anger, but from heartache.

Long Yeyue put down her teacup, frowning slightly.

Cai Yue'er also raised her head.

Feng Wuyu stood there, a burly old man, his lips trembling like a child who had his candy stolen.

"And my Lunar Divine Metal..."

His voice was squeezed out from between his teeth, "Heavenly Forged metal... I begged for so long to get a piece... hidden in a secret compartment... and he found it for me!"

He suddenly waved his hand, pointing at Yun Ming.

"Do you know how your son found it?! He took down the painting! He tapped the wall! He felt the seams! He—"

Feng Wuyu suddenly stopped, because he noticed Yun Ming's expression had changed.

It wasn't anger, nor embarrassment, but a very subtle expression—as if he were holding back a laugh.

"What are you laughing at?!"

Feng Wuyu exploded, "Do you think it's funny?! My Heavenly Forged metal!"

"It's Heavenly Forged! I kept it to comprehend the profound mysteries of Heavenly Forging! And he just pocketed it! Pocketed it!! Pocketed it with such righteous indignation!!!"

"He even said, 'Forging is truly magical, to be able to create such a divine object'—and then he pocketed it! Pocketed it!!!"

As he spoke, his voice grew increasingly mournful, finally tinged with a hint of crying.

"I've lived this long... I've never seen anything like it... he took my things... and then praised me... and then pocketed them..."

Zhuo Shi finally couldn't hold back, bursting into laughter, doubled over, slapping the armrest of his chair.

"Shut up!" Feng Wuyu suddenly turned to him.

"So what?"

Zhuo Shi spread his hands righteously, "He didn't steal from me. Besides—"

He sized up Feng Wuyu from head to toe, a provoking curve forming on his lips, "Aren't you always wanting to take him as a disciple? If a disciple takes something from their master, isn't that only natural?"

"He hasn't even become my disciple yet!!!"

"Then take him."

Zhuo Shi said lightly, "Once you take him, it won't count as stealing."

Feng Wuyu was so choked he couldn't speak, pointing at Zhuo Shi, his finger trembling.

Ya Li finally put down the herbs she was holding and spoke softly, "Old Feng, how much were those things Jingheng took... worth?"

Feng Wuyu's mouth twitched again.

"Things that are priceless, what do you think..."

Lan Muzi coughed lightly and finally spoke, "So... Jingheng went to the Blacksmith Association last night, took these things, and then..."

"And then left!"

Feng Wuyu said, a mix of grief and indignation, "He took them and left! Didn't even close the door!"

Tang Yinmeng, in the corner, had put down her book.

She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Feng Wuyu thought she was feeling guilty—after all, Yun Jingheng was like her younger brother.

But in reality, Tang Yinmeng was desperately trying to suppress a laugh.

She understood Yun Jingheng quite well.

That little fellow never did anything without a reason; he must have a use for these things.

And... finding the secret compartment was indeed very much like Yun Jingheng.

Long Yeyue set down her teacup with a crisp ceramic clink.

"Feng Wuyu," she said, her voice not loud, but everyone fell silent, "You were at the Blacksmith Association last night?"

"Yes," Feng Wuyu replied sullenly.

"You saw him?"

"I saw him."

"Why didn't you stop him?"

The main hall fell silent again.

Feng Wuyu opened his mouth, his expression becoming incredibly complex for a moment.

"...At first, I thought he was just visiting," his voice lowered.

"Then I thought he was here to experience forging... and then... by the time I wanted to stop him, he had already uncovered the secret compartment."

Long Yeyue looked at him, her gaze calm.

"So you just watched him take your Lunar Divine Metal, and then came back to cry all night?"

Feng Wuyu: "..."

He found he had no grounds to refute her.

Zhuo Shi laughed again, tears almost streaming from his eyes.

"Old Feng, Old Feng, you're too embarrassing."

"A dignified Saint Craftsman, robbed by a ten-year-old kid, and you just stood there watching."

"I wasn't watching! I was observing! Observing, do you understand?!"

"Observing what? Observing him stealing your stuff?"

"I—"

"Enough."

Long Yeyue's voice rang out again, not heavy, but with an undeniable authority.

Everyone fell silent.

She looked at Yun Ming, her gaze carrying a hint of deep meaning.

"Yun Ming, what do you think?"

Yun Ming was silent for a moment.

His expression hadn't changed much since earlier, always maintaining that calm, unruffled demeanor.

But those who knew him well understood that this was his expression when he was deep in thought.

"Jing Heng was injured," Yun Ming said slowly, "He'll be able to get out of bed in three days, move around in five, and go stealing on the seventh night."

"...What kind of logic is that?" Feng Wuyu was bewildered.

"What he means is," Ya Li continued softly, "Jing Heng recovered very well. Being able to steal means his body is fine."

Feng Wuyu: "..."

"And," Ya Li curved her lips slightly, "He only stole metal materials, not food or toys."

"...It shows he's thinking about important matters."

"Important matters?! Stealing is important matters?!"

"He must have a use for those materials."

Ya Li's tone was gentle but firm, "Jing Heng isn't a child who acts recklessly."

"He isn't a child who acts recklessly?!"

Feng Wuyu pointed to his own nose, "Then what about the things I lost? Should I consider them gifts to him?!"

Zhuo Shi chimed in again: "You can think of it that way. You're unlikely to get them back once they're in his hands anyway."

Feng Wuyu took a deep breath, feeling his blood pressure had reached its lifetime peak.

He turned to Yun Ming, his expression suddenly becoming extremely serious.

"Sect Master, I'm talking to you seriously."

"Go on."

"Your son—"

Feng Wuyu said word by word, "Must learn forging from me."