"Young Master!"
Uncle Liang cried out and rushed forward, trying to shield Shen Le. Without taking his eyes off the kiln, Shen Le stretched out his right hand and stopped him behind him.
"Don't go over there!"
"Young Master, move! Move!" Uncle Liang's voice was nearly panicked. "There are cries and howls coming from the kiln—you can't get close! Disaster will strike if you do! The master told me once when he was drunk! When firing Soul-Calming Figurines, people must stay far away, or there'll be great calamity!"
Great calamity?
Shen Le didn't think so.
The screams, wails, and roars from the kiln were indeed terrifying, sending a chill up from the soles of his feet, along his spine, until it felt as though a layer of ice had formed atop his head.
But as he stood there, aside from the awful sounds and how frightening it became if he let his imagination run wild, there was actually nothing wrong with him when he checked himself over. "What was it like when Soul-Calming Figurines were fired before? What did the family do? Did no one ever watch the kiln?"
Keeping Uncle Liang behind him, he faced the kiln and backed away step by step. Only after retreating ten paces did the old man gradually stop shaking. Clutching Shen Le's arm, he panted heavily. "They did, they did. I don't know about firing Soul-Calming Figurines—the master always drove everyone out. Only a few of the brothers stayed behind and took turns guarding it..."
So the Lu family bloodline really did have something special about it—no wonder they could fire Soul-Calming Figurines.
No wonder people without Lu family blood, like Uncle Liang, could not enter the inner circle even if their families had served faithfully for generations, even if they had taken