This was not the end.
Lu Qing had originally intended to offer his thanks and leave.
Steward Luo called out to stop him. "Hey, don't leave just yet. You called me Martial Uncle, after all. I can't very well pretend I didn't hear it. When others call me Martial Uncle, I accept it with a clear conscience—but you are the exception."
Lu Qing said, "Martial Uncle is a senior. Naturally, you deserve that form of address."
Steward Luo laughed. "No need for those flattering formalities. I want to give you something."
"During my early travels, I acquired a magic artifact called the Wooden Fish Bell. I see your sleeves are empty and that you do not favor fighting techniques, yet this artifact suits you perfectly. After all, when venturing outside, you cannot do without a handy treasure."
As Steward Luo spoke, he lightly clapped his hands. An object floated into view, and at the same time, Lu Qing sensed a soundproof Illusion Formation rising around them.
"Martial Uncle, I cannot accept this. I am unworthy of such a gift." Lu Qing hurriedly refused. Was having a magic treasure on one's person a bad thing? Of course not—it was an excellent thing.
But he and Steward Luo had no real friendship between them.
"Hehe, don't worry that I'm plotting something against you. Your Martial Uncle is not the sort of man with a belly full of schemes. Besides, this artifact would only gather dust with me. It would be better placed before a suitable owner."
Steward Luo chuckled. "And it isn't some saber or sword. Look—it is called the Wooden Fish Bell. It can grow larger or smaller, defend like a Black Tortoise, and can also be struck to perform sound cultivation, muddling others' senses. One day, if you change your