A Big "Uproar"

Early the next morning, the atmosphere at the Sea God Pavilion felt off.

Feng Wuyu had kicked his way in.

More precisely, he had first smashed through the gates of the Sea God Pavilion's Outer Court, then stormed through the front corridor, his boots pounding against the stone floor with booming thuds that made several Soul Guidance Lamps hanging beneath the eaves sway.

The two Inner Court disciples guarding the entrance saw the look on his face and did not dare stop him.

That old face was flushed crimson, his beard bristling upward, his eyes wide as brass bells. He looked like a volcano ready to erupt at any moment.

"Pavilion Master—!!!"

His voice arrived before he did.

That roar was so powerful that even the paper windows of the Sea God Pavilion buzzed.

Most of the people in the main hall had already arrived.

Long Yeyue sat in a grand armchair beside the seat of honor, holding a cup of tea. Hearing the commotion, she did not even raise her eyelids.

"He's here."

She spoke as calmly as if commenting on the pleasant weather.

Cai Yue'er sat below her. At those words, she sighed softly, closed the ancient book she had been reading, and placed it on her lap.

"I knew it," she said quietly. "Something was off about his expression when he came back last night."

Zhuo Shi sat opposite them with his arms folded, looking impatiently forward to the spectacle.

Ya Li sat by the window, sunlight falling over her as she lowered her head to tend to a medicinal herb. At the sound of Feng Wuyu's voice, she merely tilted her head slightly.

Lan Muzi stood near the doorway, one hand resting on the doorframe. He glanced outside, then silently stepped aside.

Tang Yinmeng sat in the corner with a book on soul guidance theory spread before her, but she had not read a single word.

She had been summoned here today—more precisely, summoned by Long Yeyue. The reason was unclear.

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

Before his words had even faded, Feng Wuyu had already charged into the main hall.

He stood in the center of the hall, his chest heaving violently. His mouth opened and closed, but he was so furious that he could not speak for a moment.

Everyone watched him.

Long Yeyue took a sip of tea and said leisurely, "What is it? Didn't sleep well last night?"

"Didn't sleep well?!"

Feng Wuyu's voice shot up several octaves. "I did more than not sleep well! I didn't sleep at all!!"

He turned toward Yun Ming and extended a trembling finger.

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

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

He glanced at Feng Wuyu and said blandly, "What did Jing Heng do?"

"What did he do?!"

Feng Wuyu's beard rose another inch. "He—he—"

He took a deep breath, held it for a long while, and finally forced out the words:

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

The main hall fell silent for a moment.

Zhuo Shi was the first to lose his composure, letting out a snort of laughter.

"Stole things?"

Zhuo Shi crossed one leg over the other, his face full of gloating. "What did he steal from you?"

Feng Wuyu's mouth twitched, as though someone had carved a knife through his heart.

"Black God Iron." His voice suddenly dropped, filled with grief as though he had lost a son. "Black God Iron that I spent tens of millions buying from Zhen Hua... seven pieces... not one left..."

Zhuo Shi's smile froze.

Black God Iron? Tens of millions?

His mouth opened, but before he could say anything, Feng Wuyu continued listing the losses.

"Titanium Crystal! Titanium Crystal I saved up for two years! A piece this big—"

He gestured with his hands.

"Gone!"

"Sinking Silver, Magic Silver, Star Silver, Crystal Silver, mysterious iron, Crimson Mother, Star Steel, Tungsten Steel... He swept through my Finished Products Room! Every piece of the finest quality is gone, like a plague of locusts passed through!"

"And—" His voice suddenly caught.

Everyone noticed that his eyes had turned red.

Not from anger, but from heartbreak.

Long Yeyue set down her teacup and frowned slightly.

Cai Yue'er raised her head as well.

Feng Wuyu stood there, a burly old man with trembling lips, like a child whose candy had been stolen.

"And my Lunar Divine Metal..."

His voice was nearly squeezed through clenched teeth. "Heavenly Forged Metal... I begged for so long before I managed to get one piece... I hid it in a secret compartment... and he dug it out!"

He abruptly swung his hand and pointed at Yun Ming.

"Do you know how your son found it?! He took down the painting! He knocked on the walls! He felt along the cracks! He—"

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

It was not anger or embarrassment, but a rather subtle look—as though he were holding back laughter.

"What are you laughing at?!"

Feng Wuyu exploded. "You think this is funny?! My Heavenly Forged Metal!"

"It was heavenly forged! I was saving it to study the mysteries of heavenly forging! He just stuffed it into his pocket and took it away! Took it away!! Like he had every right to do it!!!"

"And he even said, 'Forging really is amazing, to think it can create something so miraculous'—then he stuffed it into his pocket and left! Just took it away!!!"

The more he spoke, the more mournful his voice became, until it even carried a faint sob.

"I've lived this long... I've never seen anything like this... He took my things... praised me once... then stuffed them into his pocket and left..."

Zhuo Shi finally could not hold back any longer. He burst into loud laughter, rocking back and forth as he slapped the armrest of his chair.

"Shut up!" Feng Wuyu whirled on him.

"So what?"

Zhuo Shi spread his hands matter-of-factly. "He didn't steal from me. Besides—"

He sized Feng Wuyu up and down, a punchable grin spreading across his face. "Haven't you always wanted to take him as your disciple? A disciple taking a few things from his master is only natural, isn't it?"

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

"Then take him in."

Zhuo Shi said airily, "Once you do, it won't count as stealing."

Feng Wuyu choked, unable to speak. He pointed at Zhuo Shi, his finger trembling again and again.

Ya Li finally set down the medicinal herb in her hands and spoke softly. "Old Feng, how much were the things Jing Heng took... worth?"

Feng Wuyu's mouth twitched again.

"They're things money can't buy. What do you think..."

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

"Then he left!"

Feng Wuyu was both grief-stricken and furious. "He took them and left! He didn't even close the door!"

In the corner, Tang Yinmeng had already put down her book.

She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly.

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

But in truth, Tang Yinmeng was desperately holding back laughter.

She understood Yun Jingheng fairly well.

That little fellow never acted without reason. If he had taken those things, he must have had a use for them.

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

Long Yeyue set down her teacup with a crisp clink of porcelain.

"Feng Wuyu," she said. Her voice was not loud, yet everyone fell silent. "Were you at the Blacksmith Association last night?"

"I was," Feng Wuyu replied sullenly.

"You saw him?"

"I did."

"Why didn't you stop him?"

The main hall fell silent again.

Feng Wuyu opened his mouth, and his expression instantly became wonderfully complicated.

"...At first, I thought he was there to look around," he said quietly.

"Later, I thought he was there to experience forging... Then... then when I wanted to stop him, he had already torn open the secret compartment."

Long Yeyue looked at him calmly.

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

Feng Wuyu: "..."

He realized he had no way to refute that.

Zhuo Shi started laughing again, so hard that tears nearly came to his eyes.

"Old Feng, Old Feng, that's truly humiliating."

"A dignified Saint Craftsman, robbed blind by a ten-year-old brat while you stood there watching."

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

"Observing what? Observing how he swiped your things?"

"I—"

"Enough."

Long Yeyue's voice rang out again. It was not forceful, yet it carried an unquestionable authority.

Everyone fell quiet.

She looked toward Yun Ming, her gaze carrying a hint of deeper meaning.

"Yun Ming, what do you think?"

Yun Ming was silent for a while.

His expression had not changed much since earlier. He remained as calm and composed as ever.

But those familiar with him knew that this was the expression he wore whenever he was thinking.

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

"...What kind of logic is that?" Feng Wuyu asked blankly.

"What he means is," Ya Li added softly, "Jing Heng recovered very well. If he can steal things, that means his body is fine."

Feng Wuyu: "..."

"Besides," Ya Li said with a faint smile, "everything he stole was metal material, not food or toys."

"...That means he was thinking about something important."

"Something important?! Stealing is something important?!"

"He must have had a use for those materials."

Ya Li's tone was gentle but firm. "Jing Heng is not a child who acts recklessly."

"He's not a child who acts recklessly?!"

Feng Wuyu pointed at his own nose. "Then what are all the things I lost supposed to be? Gifts from me to him?!"

Zhuo Shi cut in again. "You can think of it that way. Since they're in his hands now, you probably won't get them back anyway."

Feng Wuyu took a deep breath, feeling his blood pressure surge to the highest point of his entire life.

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

"Pavilion Master, I'm being serious."

"Go on."

"Your son—"

Feng Wuyu enunciated every word. "Must learn forging from me."