5: Chapter 5 To Borrow a Knife or Not to Borrow One

Before the sky had fully brightened, the furnace in the blacksmith shop was burning brightly. Zhong Tiegu was bare-chested, beads of sweat rolling down his bronze-colored back. He gripped the long tongs tightly with both hands, clamping a piece of white-hot iron embryo, pulled it from the furnace, and placed it on the anvil. He switched to short tongs with his left hand to hold it steady, and swung the hammer with his right.

"Clang!" The hammer fell and sparks splashed as the iron embryo flattened by a fraction. He inhaled, raised the hammer, and struck again.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!" Hammer blow followed hammer blow, the rhythm steady and solid. With every strike, the muscles on his arms bulged, sweat streaming down the furrows, dripping onto the red-hot iron embryo and turning into white smoke with a hiss.

Lu Zhao stood by the furnace, watching him hammer. That was a piece of wrought iron, already forged dozens of times, its Impurities gradually removed, its texture becoming purer. But it still wasn't enough.

"Take a rest," Lu Zhao said.

Zhong Tiegu didn't stop, striking three more times before inserting the iron embryo back into the furnace. He straightened up, wiped his Face with the sweat towel draped over his shoulder, and panted heavily.

"The heat is still lacking," he stared at the red iron in the furnace. "The charcoal isn't strong enough; it can't burn through."

Lu Zhao walked to the front of the furnace. A wave of heat hit his Face. He narrowed his eyes, and that wisp of Purple Qi in his Dantian quietly circulated.

Over the past few days, he had grasped some of the methods; the True Qi of the Nine Yang Divine Skill was extremely Yang, and while it couldn't directly refine iron, it could boost the furnace fire.

He reached out and pressed his hand vaguely over the furnace opening, emitting a slight force from his palm, and a wisp of warm energy passed into the fire.

Whoosh— The flames in the furnace suddenly surged, the color shifting from red to white, and the temperature rose sharply. The piece of wrought iron softened at a visible rate, its surface taking on a molten luster.

Zhong Tiegu widened his eyes.

"This..." He opened his mouth and looked at Lu Zhao.

Lu Zhao withdrew his hand, his Face slightly pale. The consumption of this wisp of True Qi was not great, but the precise control was quite mentally draining. He waved his hand. "Quick, take advantage of this."

Zhong Tiegu snapped out of it, hurriedly clamped the iron embryo, and placed it on the anvil. The iron embryo was so soft it was almost dripping molten iron; he dared not delay and swung his hammer rapidly.

This time, the sound of the falling hammer changed. It was no longer the solid "clang-clang," but a crisper "ding-ding." With every strike, the iron embryo extended by a fraction, and sparks flew like rain.

Lu Zhao stepped back two paces, regulating his breathing. That technique just now was something he had pondered over last night. True Qi couldn't directly refine iron, but it could stimulate the charcoal fire. It was just that this method drained his mental energy and couldn't be used often.

While he was pondering, the shop door was pushed open with a "bang."

He Shan rushed in, bringing in a gust of cold wind. His Face was covered in snow foam, his breathing slightly short, and his gaze swept over the furnace fire before landing on Lu Zhao's Face.

"Something happened."

Lu Zhao's heart tightened.

Zhong Tiegu stopped hammering and turned his head to look over.

"Scouts from the Funiu Gang." He Shan's voice was low. "They snuck into the back mountain, three of them."

The shop went silent for a moment. The furnace fire crackled, and the wind and snow outside whined.

"Did you see them clearly?" Lu Zhao asked.

"I saw them clearly." He Shan walked to the furnace and reached out to warm his hands, his fingers frozen red. "I went to patrol the mountain before dawn and spotted them at Eagle's Beak Cliff. Three people, black clothes, carrying blades, walking on the hunter's path."

"Where does the hunter's path lead?"

"It leads to the slope behind our village." He Shan raised his eyes. "That path is hidden; if you aren't an old hunter, you wouldn't know it. The fact that they could find it means they've scouted the area."

Lu Zhao was silent. Liu Three-Knives had just left, and the Funiu Gang scouts had already arrived. Too coincidental.

"Where are they?" he asked.

"I fired an arrow," He Shan said. "I wounded one, and the other two took him and ran. But one got away—his light-body technique wasn't bad; I couldn't catch up."

Zhong Tiegu gripped the hammer tightly. "Should we pursue?"

"We can't catch them." He Shan shook his head. "They went in the direction of West Ravine; the forest is dense there, and once they get in, it's hard to find them."

Lu Zhao walked to the shop door and lifted the straw curtain to look outside. The sky was barely brightening, snow was still falling, and the distant mountains were hidden in gray-white mist.

Funiu Gang, Liu Family. Two forces, one in the open and one in the shadows, were both eyeing Yangjiao Ravine like a piece of meat.

He lowered the straw curtain and turned around.

"How much longer to forge the iron?"

Zhong Tiegu looked at the iron embryo on the anvil and estimated. "A few dozen more forgings, and it can take shape. Quenching, sharpening, polishing... the earliest would be tomorrow noon."

"Speed it up," Lu Zhao said. "First, forge three short blades. They don't have to be perfect, just fast enough."

Zhong Tiegu nodded heavily, turned around, and swung the hammer.

He Shan walked to Lu Zhao's side and whispered, "The Funiu Gang people suffered a loss; by tomorrow night at the latest, their main force will definitely come to retaliate. They are much more ruthless than the Liu Family."

Lu Zhao knew. The Liu Family wanted money and grain, and submission. The Funiu Gang wanted plunder and slaughter.

"Can that hunter's path behind the village be blocked?"

"Yes," He Shan said. "But it will take time. Cutting trees, piling stones, setting traps... at least two days."

"We don't have two days." Lu Zhao shook his head. "First, set up simple tripwires and hang bells. People won't be able to pass, and horses certainly won't."

He Shan thought for a moment. "Fine, I'll take people to do it."

"Be careful." Lu Zhao paused. "Also, call Yan Meng; he understands military Formations and is good at setting traps."

He Shan acknowledged, pushed the door open, and quickly disappeared into the wind and snow.

Lu Zhao returned to the furnace. Zhong Tiegu was still hammering, using all his strength with every blow. The iron embryo gradually elongated, revealing the embryonic form of a short blade.

He watched for a while and suddenly asked, "Brother Zhong, have you ever forged a sword?"

Zhong Tiegu didn't stop. "I've forged firewood choppers and machetes, but never a blade for killing people."

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes." Zhong Tiegu wiped away sweat. "Firewood choppers need to be thick and heavy, machetes need wide blades, but a blade for killing... it needs to be fast, sharp, and light."

He stopped the hammer, clamped the iron embryo, and examined it carefully in the firelight.

"My father said that a good blade must have a soul. The soul is in the edge, in the blood groove, and in the balance of the handle." His voice lowered. "I've never seen such a blade. Here, we can't forge one."

Lu Zhao was silent. He remembered Liu Three-Knives' blade. Hundred-refined steel mixed with Cold Iron; although it wasn't a divine weapon, it possessed a menacing Evil Qi and had tasted blood.

"In three days, Liu Three-Knives will come again." He said slowly. "We must have a blade to match his."

Zhong Tiegu looked at him, his gaze complex.

"Little brother, are you truly confident?"

Lu Zhao didn't answer. He walked to the corner, lifted the burlap, and revealed the piece of pig iron. The iron surface was rough and cold, glowing with a faint light under the reflection of the furnace fire.

"Folding forging," he said. "Pig iron on the outside, wrought iron on the inside. Through a thousand hammer blows, let them melt into one. Hard on the outside, tough on the inside, combining hardness and softness."

Zhong Tiegu stared at the pig iron, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Shall we try?"

"Let's try."

The two men stopped talking. Zhong Tiegu reheated the forged wrought iron embryo until red, while Lu Zhao lifted the piece of pig iron and placed it in another small furnace to heat. The shop was steaming with heat, the two furnace fires reflecting on the walls, making them bright red.

The sky gradually brightened. The wind and snow lessened slightly, but the cloud layer remained thick. People in the village began to rise one after another, cooking smoke rising and blending into the gray-white sky.

Granny Xue brought in an earthenware pot containing porridge and a few coarse flour cakes.

"Eat something first." She looked at the sweating Zhong Tiegu, then at Lu Zhao. "Your health is important."

Lu Zhao thanked her and took the porridge bowl. The porridge was warm, with few rice grains, mostly wild vegetables and beans. He finished it in a few gulps and broke half a cake for Zhong Tiegu. Zhong Tiegu took it and took a big bite, savoring it with the heat of the furnace.

Just as they were eating, Wen Qian pushed the door open, holding a few pages of yellow paper in his hand.

"Mr. Lu." He handed over the pages. "Last night I flipped through some old books and found a few simple Formations. Although they lack Spiritual Qi to drive them, by borrowing the terrain and topography, they might be usable."

Lu Zhao took them and examined them closely. The paper had simple diagrams, marking the arrangement of rocks, hills, and trees, with small annotated notes on the side, the handwriting neat and elegant.

"A Decoy Formation?"

"Exactly." Wen Qian pointed to one of the diagrams. "This Formation is set up in the forest, borrowing the sound of the wind, the shadows of the trees, and echoes to disturb the enemy's senses, making it difficult for them to distinguish reality from illusion. All that's needed are ropes, copper bells, mirrors, and such; we can gather them in the village."

Lu Zhao looked at the diagram carefully. The Formation wasn't complex, but the design of several nodes was clever, secretly conforming to the principles of Qimen Dunjia. It was just that the original Formation required Spiritual Qi to activate, and Wen Qian had modified it into a purely manual setup.

"Wen Qian understands Formations?"

"Only a little." Wen Qian smiled bitterly. "My family had a few old Incomplete Manuals, which I flipped through when I was young. It's just..." He paused. "The way of Formations ultimately requires Spiritual Qi as a guide. The version I modified has less than one-tenth of its power; it might be okay for scaring ordinary people, but if we encounter a real Cultivator, I'm afraid..."

"That's enough." Lu Zhao put down the papers. "The Funiu Gang bandits may not necessarily have a Formation Master. If we can delay them for a moment, that's a moment gained."

Wen Qian breathed a sigh of relief and added, "There's one more thing. The old, weak, women, and children in the village need a place to hide. There is a cave in the back mountain with a hidden entrance and a spacious interior; it was used to avoid bandits in the early years."

Lu Zhao nodded. "Entrust this matter to Tian Dali and Qin Wan. Prepare as much food, water, and bedding as possible."

Wen Qian agreed and hurried away.

Lu Zhao walked to the shop door and lifted the curtain to look outside again. On the snowy ground, He Shan and Yan Meng were leading several men toward the back mountain, carrying ropes and axes on their shoulders. Qin Wan and Tian Dali were going house to house collecting copper bells and broken mirrors. A-Fei followed behind them, holding a bundle of hemp rope. A tense silence permeated the village. No one spoke loudly, but everyone was moving, doing something.

He lowered the straw curtain and returned to the furnace. Zhong Tiegu had already stacked the wrought iron embryo and the red-hot pig iron together, clamped them tightly with long tongs, and placed them on the anvil. He took a deep breath and swung the hammer.

"Clang!" The first hammer fell, the two irons collided, and sparks exploded.

Lu Zhao watched intently. Pig iron is hard and brittle, wrought iron is soft and tough; with this strike, the two irons only slightly adhered and did not fuse.

"The heat is still not enough." Zhong Tiegu gritted his teeth and inserted the iron embryo back into the furnace.

The furnace fire had weakened a bit. Lu Zhao reached out again, emitting a slight force from his palm, and True Qi passed in. The flames rose again.

This time, Zhong Tiegu waited until the iron embryo burned to a white heat, almost melting, before clamping it out to hammer.

"Clang, clang, clang—" The sound of the hammer was like a sudden rain. Under the heavy blows, the two irons finally began to fuse; the hardness of the pig iron and the toughness of the wrought iron permeated each other—you in me, and I in you.

Bloodshot veins appeared in Zhong Tiegu's eyes, and the veins on his arms bulged. He hammered incessantly, putting his full strength into every blow. Lu Zhao watched quietly. This process was very much like martial path cultivation. Externally training the muscles, bones, and skin, and internally training a breath of Qi. Only through a thousand hammer blows can one be reborn.

Don't know how long passed, Zhong Tiegu finally stopped the hammer. On the anvil, the iron embryo had taken shape. It was about one foot and eight inches long, two fingers wide, and three fen thick, dark red all over, with faint cloud patterns flowing on it.

He clamped the iron embryo and dipped it into the water bucket beside him.

"Hiss—" White steam rose, filling the entire shop. When the steam dissipated, Zhong Tiegu pulled out the iron embryo. It was already the embryonic form of a short blade. The blade was straight, the spine line distinct, and the quenched steel edge glinted with a faint blue light.

Zhong Tiegu stroked the edge with his finger, an expression of obsession in his eyes.

"It's done..." He muttered. "It's really done..."

Lu Zhao took the short blade. It felt solid in his hand, weighing about three or four jin. He swung it, the sound of cutting through the wind sharp.

"It still needs sharpening and polishing," Zhong Tiegu said. "But the foundation is there. This blade... is no worse than Liu Three-Knives' one."

Lu Zhao nodded. He gripped the handle and made a few practice slashes, feeling the balance. The blade tilted slightly forward, suitable for hacking, but it would require a bit more wrist strength for thrusting.

"The handle needs to be wrapped with rope," he said. "To prevent slipping and absorb sweat."

"I have some." Zhong Tiegu dug out a roll of old cowhide rope from the corner. "Used by hunters, tough and wear-resistant."

Just as they were speaking, the shop door was pushed open again. Song Shouren walked in, his Face pale.

"Mr. Lu." His voice was tight. "At the village entrance... Liu Three-Knives has come again."

Lu Zhao frowned. "Wasn't it agreed for three days later?"

"He didn't enter the village, he's just waiting under the locust tree at the village entrance." Song Shouren swallowed. "He said... he wants to see you."

Zhong Tiegu grabbed the newly formed short blade. "I'll go."

"Don't." Lu Zhao stopped him. "Is he alone?"

"Just one person, he didn't bring any servants."

Lu Zhao pondered for a moment and put down the short blade.

"I will go see him."

He pushed the door open and went out. The wind and snow hit his Face, cold and sobering. Under the old locust tree at the village entrance, Liu Three-Knives was indeed standing there. He wasn't riding a horse, he was alone, with that wide-bladed knife strapped to his waist. Seeing Lu Zhao come out, his triangular eyes narrowed.

"Kid, come over."

Lu Zhao walked to within three steps of him and stopped. Liu Three-Knives looked him up and down and suddenly laughed.

[part:gemini-3.0-flash]

"Last night, the Funiu Gang went to Xigou," he said. "They pillaged three households, killed two people, and abducted a young girl."

Lu Zhao didn't speak.

"Xigou is thirty li away from here." Liu Three-Knives paced a few steps, the snow crunching underfoot. "Guess where the Funiu Gang's next target is?"

"Steward Liu is well-informed."

"Of course I am." Liu Three-Knives stopped and turned to stare at him. "In the three hundred li of He Shan, is there anything that can be hidden from the Liu Family?"

He paused, lowering his voice.

"Kid, I'll show you a clear path. Double the winter defense tax. Four taels of silver and twenty catties of meat per household. I'll guarantee your safety."

Lu Zhao looked up at him.

"Can Steward Liu stop the Funiu Gang?"

"I can't." Liu Three-Knives grinned. "But the Funiu Gang has to give the Liu Family's name some Face. Once the tax is paid, I'll send men to station here for a few days, and they naturally won't dare to move."

"And after a few days?"

"After a few days?" Liu Three-Knives' smile deepened. "Then that's your own business."

Lu Zhao understood. This was taking advantage of a crisis. Using the Funiu Gang's momentum to extort another sum.

He shook his head.

"In three days, the original amount will be presented. Not a single cent more."

Liu Three-Knives' expression darkened.

"Kid, don't be ungrateful." He pressed his hand on the hilt of his saber. "The Funiu Gang isn't like my Liu Family; they don't follow rules. When they come, they'll burn, kill, and pillage, leaving nothing alive. By then, it'll be too late even if you beg me on your knees."

Lu Zhao's gaze fell on the hand pressing the saber. Fingers loosely curled, thumb pressing on the guard—this was the starting posture for drawing a blade.

"Steward Liu," he suddenly spoke, "you're practicing the Black Evil Skill, aren't you?"

Liu Three-Knives shuddered.

"You... how do you know?"

"There's Evil Qi on the blade, a bone-chilling cold." Lu Zhao said slowly, "To Cultivate this skill, one needs Cold Iron as a medium, supplemented by Yin Meridian Earth Qi. But if practiced too hastily, the Evil Qi backlashes. Every midnight, your Dantian feels like it's being pierced by ice needles—a misery beyond words."

Liu Three-Knives' Face changed drastically, his knuckles turning white from gripping.

Lu Zhao continued, "This saber of yours is infused with Cold Iron, originally meant to aid your cultivation. Unfortunately, the heat was too intense during forging, and the Cold Iron's ferocity wasn't neutralized. Instead, it worsened the backlash. That's why your cultivation hasn't progressed an inch these past few years; instead, you've suffered for it."

"You..." Liu Three-Knives' throat went dry. "Who exactly are you?"

"Just someone recovering from injuries in Yangjiao Ravine." Lu Zhao took a step forward. "Steward Liu, if I said I could resolve the pain of your backlash, would you believe me?"

Liu Three-Knives stared at him intently, his eyes a mix of shock, fear, and greed.

"You can resolve it?"

"I can," Lu Zhao said, "but on one condition."

"What condition?"

"Waive the winter defense tax."

Liu Three-Knives' eyes flickered. Waiving the winter defense tax was equivalent to slapping the Liu Family's Face. But if he could resolve the pain of the backlash...

He had suffered this torment for years, a fate worse than death. He had consulted many Alchemists and physicians, but all were helpless. This kid saw through it in one word—could he really have a way?

"Why should I believe you?"

Lu Zhao pointed at the saber at his waist.

"Lend me your saber to take a look."

Borrowing a blade again.

Liu Three-Knives hesitated for a moment, unbuckled the saber, and handed it over, but his hand didn't let go.

"Kid, don't try any tricks."

Lu Zhao gripped the hilt and slowly drew it halfway. The blade glowed a greenish-gray, and Evil Qi rushed at him. He extended his left index finger and lightly swiped it across the edge.

His fingertip split open, and a drop of blood seeped out.

Liu Three-Knives' pupils constricted.

That drop of blood landed on the blade and didn't slide off; instead, it soaked in. Immediately after, the blade vibrated slightly, emitting a low hum. The originally greenish-gray blade light flickered with a faint goldish-red.

In just an instant, it returned to its original state.

But Liu Three-Knives felt it—the bone-chilling Evil Qi that had been entwined around the blade for years had actually weakened by a fraction!

"You..." His voice trembled.

Lu Zhao sheathed the saber and handed it back.

"In three days, I'll bring the antidote," he said. "The winter defense tax is waived, and the Liu Family must not interfere in the matter of the Funiu Gang."

Liu Three-Knives took the saber and gripped it; within that familiar cold, there was actually a hint of warmth. Though faint, it was real.

He stared at Lu Zhao for a full dozen breaths.

"Fine." He gritted his teeth. "I'll come again in three days. If you dare to deceive me..."

He didn't finish, but the murderous glint in his eyes said it all.

Lu Zhao nodded. "Please."

Liu Three-Knives gave him a deep look and turned to leave. His footprints in the snow were deep, showing his agitated state of mind.

Lu Zhao stood in place until the figure disappeared into the wind and snow, then slowly raised his left hand.

The wound on his fingertip had already clotted, but in that swipe just now, he had used a sliver of True Qi from the Nine Yang Divine Skill. Ultimate Yang breaking Yin Evil—it was naturally effective. However, to completely resolve the backlash in Liu Three-Knives' body would still take some effort.

But it was enough.

Three days. The threat of the Funiu Gang and the pressure of the Liu Family were both hanging over their heads.

He turned and headed back to the village. When he reached the blacksmith shop, he heard the sound of hammering coming from inside.

Zhong Tiegu was still busy.

Lu Zhao pushed the door open and saw three short blade prototypes already laid out on the anvil. The second one was being quenched, and the third was still heating in the furnace.

"How did it go?" Zhong Tiegu didn't even look up.

"Stalled them." Lu Zhao walked to the furnace. "Liu Three-Knives won't be coming for the time being."

Zhong Tiegu breathed a sigh of relief, his hands not stopping. "Then the Funiu Gang..."

"We have to rely on ourselves."

Zhong Tiegu nodded, pulled out the third iron blank with tongs, and began hammering.

Lu Zhao looked at the furnace fire and suddenly remembered something.

"Brother Zhong, is there anything... special in the village?"

"What kind of special thing?"

"For example, old objects, broken weapons, or patterns you can't understand."

Zhong Tiegu thought for a moment. "Old Mo seems to have some. In that tattered cloth bag of his, there are always some strange gadgets."

Old Mo.

Lu Zhao remembered that taciturn Wandering Craftsman. During the meeting last night, he was the last to stay behind, pulling out a few rusted metal pieces and saying, "Maybe these will be of some use."

"I'll go find him."

Lu Zhao left the blacksmith shop and walked towards the north of the village. The earthen house where Old Mo lived was the most remote; the thatch on the roof was thick, and the door was old, but the window paper was neatly pasted.

He knocked on the door.

There was no response from inside.

He knocked twice more.

"Come in." A raspy voice came out.

Lu Zhao pushed the door open. The room was dim, with only a small oil lamp lit. Old Mo sat by the heated brick bed, a piece of burlap spread out before him, scattered with various metal parts, wood scraps, and thin cords.

He looked up at Lu Zhao, then lowered his head again, continuing to tinker with a small mechanism in his hand.

"Sit." he said.

Lu Zhao sat on a small stool opposite him, his gaze sweeping over the parts. Some were bronze, some were black iron, rusted and pitted, but the polished parts glinted with a faint light.

"Old Mo." he began. "The metal pieces you mentioned last night..."

Old Mo fished out a small cloth bag from under the burlap and poured out several fragments. They were exactly what he had seen last night—heavily rusted, but with fine patterns on the edges.

Lu Zhao picked up one and looked closely. The patterns were winding, looking like neither words nor pictures. He lightly brushed them with his fingertip; they felt ice-cold.

"Where did these come from?"

"Picked them up while traveling around in my youth." Old Mo put down the mechanism and rubbed his eyes. "Thought they were interesting, so I kept them."

Lu Zhao held the fragment near the oil lamp. The yellow light was dim, and the patterns seemed to... move slightly in the shadows.

He focused his attention again, and they were still.

But in that instant just now, the Purple Qi in his Dantian had a slight reaction.

"These patterns..." he mused. "Does Old Mo recognize them?"

Old Mo shook his head. "I don't. But I know they're part of a set."

He reached out and pieced several fragments together on the burlap. Although incomplete, one could roughly see it was a disc shape, with a hole in the center and teeth on the edge.

"Looks like a part of some large mechanism." Old Mo said. "I tried to restore it, but too much is missing to complete it."

Lu Zhao looked at the broken disc. The patterns were intermittent, but he could vaguely sense a certain pattern.

"Could I borrow it to take a look?"

"Take it." Old Mo waved his hand. "I can't figure it out anyway; it's just scrap iron sitting here."

Lu Zhao thanked him and carefully tucked the fragments away.

Just as he was about to get up and leave, Old Mo suddenly spoke.

"Kid."

Lu Zhao stopped.

Old Mo looked up, the dim lamp lighting his wrinkled Face. He stared at Lu Zhao for a few breaths and said slowly:

"In this world, good people don't live long."

Lu Zhao didn't speak.

"If you want to lead these people to survive, kindness alone isn't enough." Old Mo pointed at the metal fragments. "You need power, and you need... something others don't have."

He paused.

"Those fragments might just be that 'something'."

Lu Zhao nodded. "I understand."

Old Mo said no more and lowered his head to continue tinkering with the mechanism.

Lu Zhao exited the house and closed the door. The wind and snow hit his Face as he gripped the cloth bag in his hand.

By the time he returned to his own earthen house, it was nearly dusk.

He lit the oil lamp and spread the fragments on the bed, examining them one by one. The patterns were ancient, and the rust obscured the details, but when his fingertips touched them, that faint resonance was still there.

He closed his eyes and tried to transfer a wisp of True Qi into the fragment.

No response.

It wasn't a Spirit Stone or a Magical Artifact; it was just ordinary metal.

But why was there a resonance?

He opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the disc outline formed by the fragments. A hole in the center, teeth on the edge... like a gear, or a compass.

Suddenly, he remembered a line from the Nine Yang Divine Skill manual: "Qi travels through the Ren and Du vessels, turning like a wheel; circulating through the Heavenly Orbit, endless and eternal."

Turning wheel.

His heart skipped a beat.

He rearranged the fragments, connecting them according to the flow of the patterns. Although incomplete, he could roughly see that the path of the patterns was a closed loop, just broken in many places.

What if he used True Qi as a guide to complete the circuit?

He took a deep breath and extended his right index finger, hovering it over the fragments. The Purple Qi in his Dantian circulated, flowing through his Meridians to his fingertip, condensed but not released.

Then, he slowly lowered his finger, tracing the patterns in the air.

On the first fragment, the patterns lit up with a faint light, like a firefly.

The second, the third... the light points were intermittent, but they were indeed extending.

When he reached the sixth one, the light points suddenly connected into a line!

On the broken disc, a faint golden light trace emerged, winding along the patterns. Although it only lasted for three breaths before fading, in that moment, Lu Zhao clearly felt the surrounding Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi fluctuate slightly.

He withdrew his hand, fine sweat appearing on his forehead.

This wasn't a Magical Artifact; it was a fragment of a Formation Plate. And a very sophisticated one at that, capable of drawing on Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi with minimal power.

If he had a complete Formation Plate, combined with a corresponding Formation...

He looked out the window. The night was dark, and the wind and snow were howling.

Funiu Gang, Liu Family.

Perhaps this broken Formation Plate was the key to breaking the deadlock.

While he was thinking, hurried footsteps came from outside the door.

He Shan pushed the door open, covered in snow, his expression grave.

"The traps on the back mountain are set." He panted. "But I found this in the woods."

He handed over a scrap of cloth. The cloth was black, the texture coarse, with torn edges.

On it, a line of words was written crookedly with charcoal ash:

"Tomorrow night at the Hour of the Rat, leave nothing alive."

The handwriting was messy, but Killing Intent permeated the cloth.

Lu Zhao stared at the line of words, silent for a long time.

Finally, he looked up.

"Brother He."

"Yeah?"

"Tell everyone to get ready." Lu Zhao said slowly. "Before dark tomorrow, everyone must retreat into the Grotto on the back mountain."

"Then the village..."

"We're abandoning the village."

He Shan was shocked.

Lu Zhao looked out at the heavy night through the window, his voice calm but cold as winter iron.

"If they want to come, let them."

"Once they're here, don't even think about leaving."

Late at night.

Lu Zhao was alone in the room, tinkering with the Formation Plate fragments.

Suddenly, one of the fragments moved without any wind, its patterns seeping with dark red blood light—while outside the window, there came the sound of extremely light footsteps that did not belong to the wind or snow.