Yang Wudi's Arrival

Yang Wudi froze.

Zhang Mo pulled two things from his pocket: the Millennium Fleeceflower and the root the old man had given him earlier.

Yang Wudi's gaze fell on them, and his pupils contracted sharply.

He reached out to take them, then pulled his hand back.

"What are these...?"

"Medicinal herbs from this world," Zhang Mo said. "They've been growing for over a thousand years."

Yang Wudi stared at the two things, his eyes shining.

He could sense the energy they contained. It was different from the medicinal herbs of the Douluo Continent, but purer, more primordial.

"Let me see," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

Zhang Mo handed them over.

Yang Wudi took the two herbs and turned them over in his hands. He brought them to his nose to smell them, then finally stuck out his tongue and gave one a gentle lick.

His expression changed.

"This... this medicinal potency..." He looked up and stared at Zhang Mo. "Where did you get these?"

"I bought them," Zhang Mo said.

Yang Wudi froze. "Bought them?"

Zhang Mo nodded. "These things are rare in this world, but as long as you have money, you can buy them."

Yang Wudi fell silent.

He looked at the herbs in his hands, then at Zhang Mo, his expression complicated.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Help me with something," Zhang Mo said.

"What?"

"Kill someone."

Yang Wudi frowned. "Who?"

"They haven't arrived yet, but they will soon. A Titled Douluo."

Yang Wudi's eyes lit up.

"A Titled Douluo? Who?"

"Sword Douluo Chen Xin. Bone Douluo Gu Rong," Zhang Mo said.

Yang Wudi stared for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"Sword Douluo? Bone Douluo? Those two old geezers?"

Zhang Mo nodded.

When Yang Wudi finished laughing, he stared at Zhang Mo, amusement in his eyes.

"Do you know who those two are?"

"I do. Titled Douluos. Level ninety-five or higher."

"And you still want to kill them?"

"I do."

Yang Wudi stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly asked,

"Why?"

Zhang Mo thought for a moment. "To stay alive."

Yang Wudi froze.

"When they arrive, they'll kill me," Zhang Mo said. "And they'll kill someone I have to protect."

Yang Wudi fell silent for a few seconds, then asked,

"Who's this person you have to protect?"

Zhang Mo said nothing.

Yang Wudi looked at him, then suddenly smiled.

"Fine. I won't ask." He handed the herbs back to Zhang Mo. "I'll help you with this."

Zhang Mo looked at him, a little surprised.

"Don't get too excited," Yang Wudi said. "I'm helping you this once because of the herbs. But if you're lying to me—"

He tightened his grip on the spear shaft.

"My spear won't show mercy."

Zhang Mo nodded.

Yang Wudi suddenly remembered something and asked,

"When are those two old geezers you mentioned coming?"

"I don't know. Maybe in a few days, maybe in ten or more."

Yang Wudi frowned. "Where am I supposed to stay in the meantime?"

Zhang Mo thought for a moment. "Come with me."

Yang Wudi froze.

"I have an empty room," Zhang Mo said. "It's not big, but it's livable."

Yang Wudi stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled.

"Interesting," he said. "A man who wants to kill Titled Douluos is inviting me to stay at his place."

He unhooked the Soul Breaking Spear from his back and planted it on the ground.

"Let's go."

The two of them headed out.

At the entrance, Yang Wudi suddenly stopped and glanced back at the exhibition hall.

The bustling crowd, the dazzling array of medicinal herbs.

He murmured,

"This world is pretty interesting."

Zhang Mo said nothing.

He looked toward the pillar.

Ning Rongrong was still hiding there, peeking around it with half her head to watch them.

He gave her a slight nod.

Ning Rongrong breathed a sigh of relief and ducked back behind the pillar.

Only after the two men had gone far away did she slowly come out.

She watched Zhang Mo and Yang Wudi's backs disappear through the doorway, her palms slick with sweat.

Her heart hadn't slowed down for a moment during those few minutes.

She remembered the way Yang Wudi had held his spear, and the look he'd given Zhang Mo.

One wrong move, and that spear could have pierced Zhang Mo's chest.

But he hadn't thrust.

He had followed Zhang Mo instead.

Ning Rongrong took a deep breath and slowly walked out.

At the entrance, sunlight poured down, making her squint.

She looked at the empty plaza and suddenly smiled.

As she smiled, her eyes grew a little red.

She murmured,

"Zhang Mo, you really are..."

She didn't finish.

But she knew that their most dangerous enemy had now become a friend.

At least for now.

Zhang Mo pushed open the workshop door and stepped aside to let Yang Wudi in.

Yang Wudi stood in the doorway and looked inside, frowning.

"This is it?"

Zhang Mo nodded.

Yang Wudi walked in and looked around. There were oil paintings hanging on the walls, tools piled in the corner, dishes left on the coffee table, and a blanket on the sofa. He went to the window, pushed it open, and looked outside. Down below was a narrow alley. Across the way stood an old apartment building, with colorful clothes hanging from its balconies.

He turned around and looked at Zhang Mo.

"You live here?"

"I've lived here for seven or eight years," Zhang Mo said.

Yang Wudi was silent for a few seconds, then said,

"It's worse than I imagined."

Zhang Mo said nothing.

Yang Wudi leaned the Soul Breaking Spear against the wall and dropped onto the sofa. Its springs creaked, and he sank halfway into it. He froze, looked down at the sofa beneath him, then glanced at Zhang Mo.

"This thing... is soft?"

"It's a sofa. You sit on it," Zhang Mo said.

Yang Wudi stood up, sat down again, then stood up once more. He repeated this several times, as if studying some curious new contraption.

"Interesting," he said. "More comfortable than the chairs back home."

Ning Rongrong stood at the doorway, not daring to come in.

She watched Yang Wudi studying the sofa, her nerves all over the place. She'd heard of him: the Breaking Clan's leader, hot-tempered and quick to throw a punch at the slightest provocation. Back on the Douluo Continent, he'd once torn down a sect's gate just to get his hands on a medicinal herb.

Now he was sitting on Zhang Mo's sofa, studying its springs like a curious child.

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Yang Wudi suddenly raised his head and looked toward the doorway.

His gaze fell on Ning Rongrong.

Ning Rongrong stiffened all over.

Yang Wudi stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly said,

"A little girl from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect?"

Ning Rongrong wanted to hide, but her legs wouldn't move.

Yang Wudi stood up and walked toward her.

Ning Rongrong took a step backward, bumping into the doorframe.

Yang Wudi stopped in front of her and looked down at her.

He was more than a head taller than she was, his burly frame casting her completely in shadow.

"Ning Fengzhi's daughter?" he asked.

Ning Rongrong nodded, her voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz.

"Y-yes..."

Yang Wudi stared at her for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled.

"Don't be afraid," he said. "I don't kill children."

Ning Rongrong froze.

Yang Wudi turned and went back to the sofa, sitting down again. This time, he didn't study its springs.

"I know your father," he said. "The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect and the Breaking Clan have dealt with each other a few times. He's a sanctimonious sort, but he's not a bad man."

Ning Rongrong didn't know what to say, so she could only nod.

Yang Wudi suddenly remembered something and looked at her.

"How did you get here?"

Ning Rongrong parted her lips, then glanced at Zhang Mo.

Zhang Mo came over and sat down beside them.

"The system summoned her," he said. "She came here the same way Ning Rongrong did."

Yang Wudi frowned. "The system? What's that?"

Zhang Mo briefly explained the Boundary Eye.

Yang Wudi fell silent for a long time.

"So," he said slowly, "I was summoned here as an enemy?"

Zhang Mo nodded.

"And then you wanted to kill me?"

"At first."

Yang Wudi stared at him.

"Then I found out you were an alchemist, so I decided to try a different approach," Zhang Mo continued.

Yang Wudi froze, then burst out laughing.

His coarse laughter made the windows rattle.

"Interesting!" He slapped his thigh. "A man without even a shred of Soul Power wanted to kill me. When he realized he couldn't, he decided to buy me off with medicinal herbs instead."

He stood up and came over to Zhang Mo, looking down at him.

"Do you know what kind of man I am, Yang Wudi?"

Zhang Mo looked at him without a word.

"I've hated being manipulated my whole life," Yang Wudi said. "If it were anyone else, and they dared to play me like this, my spear would've gone through them already."

He clenched his fist.

"But you're different," he suddenly said. "Back there, you stood between me and that fatso. You knew who I was, and you knew I might attack at any moment, but you still stepped forward."

He stared into Zhang Mo's eyes.

"Why?"

Zhang Mo thought for a moment, then said, "Because there are a lot of people nearby."

Yang Wudi froze.

Zhang Mo said, "If you attacked here and now, a lot of people would die. Those ordinary people have no grudge against you."

Yang Wudi fell silent for a few seconds.

Then he suddenly laughed.

"Interesting," he said. "Very interesting."

He turned and walked back to the sofa, then sat down again.

"Fine. I'll trust you this once."

Ning Rongrong watched the scene from the side, barely daring to breathe.

She looked at Yang Wudi, then at Zhang Mo, and suddenly felt that the world was downright surreal.

The two people who had been enemies just moments ago were now sitting on the same sofa, chatting.

She quietly edged closer and sat beside Zhang Mo, as far away from Yang Wudi as she could get.

Yang Wudi glanced at her and ignored her.

He stared at the two medicinal ingredients on the coffee table—the Millennium Fleeceflower Zhang Mo had placed there and the unknown rhizome.

"This thing," he said, pointing at the rhizome. "Where did it come from?"

"An old man gave it to me," Zhang Mo said.

Yang Wudi frowned. "He gave it to you?"

Zhang Mo nodded and told him what had happened at the expo.

After listening, Yang Wudi's expression grew complicated.

"Changbai Mountain... guarded by a snake..." he murmured. "That old man is no ordinary person."

He raised his head and looked at Zhang Mo.

"Keep this safe," he said. "It's better than any medicinal ingredient I've ever seen."

Zhang Mo nodded.

Yang Wudi stared at the two medicinal ingredients for a long while, then suddenly sighed.

"What a shame," he said. "Medicine this good, and I can't refine it."

Zhang Mo stared at him. "Why?"

"There's no Soul Power," Yang Wudi said. "The fire in this world can't draw out the medicinal properties."

Zhang Mo fell silent for a few seconds, then said:

"What if we use Soul Power?"

Yang Wudi looked up at him.

Zhang Mo said, "She has Soul Power."

He pointed at Ning Rongrong.

Ning Rongrong froze.

Yang Wudi stared at Ning Rongrong, his eyes lighting up.

"Little girl, what level are you?"

Ning Rongrong stammered, "F-Forty-two."

Yang Wudi frowned. "Too low."

He thought for a moment, then said, "Still, we can give it a try."

He stood up and paced around the room twice, then suddenly asked:

"Do you have somewhere here to make a fire?"

"There's a gas stove in the kitchen," Zhang Mo said.

Yang Wudi blinked. "What's a gas stove?"

Half an hour later, the three of them stood in the kitchen.

Yang Wudi stared at the blue flames flickering on the gas stove, his brows furrowed so tightly they could have crushed a fly.

"This fire... there's no Soul Power fluctuation?"

"It burns gas," Zhang Mo said.

Yang Wudi didn't understand what gas was, but he could tell this fire was indeed different from the furnace flames of the Douluo Continent.

He extended a hand toward the flame and felt its heat.

"The temperature is high enough," he said, "but it's not steady enough."

He thought for a moment, then turned to Ning Rongrong.

"Little girl, I'll use this fire to refine the medicine in a moment. You'll use your Soul Power to keep the heat steady. Can you do that?"

Ning Rongrong nodded nervously.

Yang Wudi pulled a small cloth pouch from inside his robes and opened it. Inside were several withered medicinal herbs.

"I brought these myself," he said. "We'll practice with them first."

He placed the herbs on the cutting board and drew a small knife from his waist. The blade was thin, its edge glinting coldly.

He began cutting the herbs.

His movements were fast, yet steady. With every stroke, he sliced the herbs into evenly thick pieces.

Ning Rongrong watched from the side, her eyes wide.

She had seen the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's alchemists cut herbs, but none of them had been this fast or precise.

Once he finished cutting, Yang Wudi put the slices into a small pot and said to Zhang Mo:

"Turn on the fire."

Zhang Mo turned on the gas stove.

Blue flames licked the bottom of the pot.

Yang Wudi stared at the herbs in the pot. After a while, he suddenly said:

"Little girl, Soul Power."

Ning Rongrong hurriedly summoned the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda and guided her Soul Power toward the flames.

The flames flickered, their color shifting from blue to a pale gold.

Yang Wudi's eyes lit up.

"Hold it steady!"

He began adding water to the pot, stirring as he went. His movements were smooth and practiced, as if he had done this countless times.

Ning Rongrong gritted her teeth, straining to maintain the flow of her Soul Power.

Sweat beaded on her forehead and ran down her cheeks.

But she didn't dare let up.

Ten minutes later, Yang Wudi turned off the heat.

The liquid in the pot had turned a deep brown, filling the air with a rich medicinal fragrance.

Yang Wudi stared at the pot of medicinal broth for a long time.

Then he smiled.

It was the most genuine smile Zhang Mo had ever seen from him.

"It worked," he said. "It actually worked."

He scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and took a taste.

He closed his eyes and savored it for a long while.

When he opened them, he looked at Ning Rongrong with a complicated expression.

"Little girl," he said, "you've done me a great favor."

Ning Rongrong leaned against the wall, exhausted, gasping for breath.

But the corners of her mouth lifted.

Yang Wudi turned and looked at Zhang Mo.

"You said earlier that more Titled Douluo were coming?"

Zhang Mo nodded.

"I'll help you," Yang Wudi said.

He paused, then added:

"Not for your sake. So I can keep refining medicine."

Zhang Mo looked at him and nodded.

Outside the window, the sun began to sink.

Golden light poured through the window, falling on the three people in the kitchen.

Leaning against the wall, Ning Rongrong watched Yang Wudi carefully pour the medicinal broth into a bottle. Suddenly, she felt that perhaps this world wasn't so frightening after all.