Chapter 433 - 272: Primordial Jianmu, Hundredth Birthday Banquet
Chapter 433: Chapter 272: Primordial Jianmu, Hundredth Birthday Banquet
The group from the Purple Extreme Sect came and went quickly.
Their questions were brief and not overly probing, leaving a sense that they were merely touching on the matter.
After all, the Three Isle Masters of Jade Belt Lake were tenants, not criminals. The sect couldn’t take any drastic measures against them.
Although the Late Stage Foundation Establishment Cultivator from the sect played the bad cop several times, Lin Changheng and the others paid him no mind. They focused solely on Master Zhen’s attitude.
He was the true decision-maker and represented the final will of the Purple Extreme Sect’s upper echelons. His every word and action was carefully considered.
Furthermore, the group from the Purple Extreme Sect didn’t seem particularly concerned with gathering evidence. They simply requested "a detailed account of the incident," "any remaining items," and "distinguishing features of the cultivation techniques used."
’Could the Purple Extreme Sect’s intelligence network be so formidable that they already have information on them? Or perhaps this group of Tribulation Cultivators has a prior record, making them easy to identify?’
Lin Changheng wondered inwardly.
He had inferred this from the Purple Extreme Sect members’ behavior and Mo Zhaoli’s hint about the sect’s decision, and he was about eighty or ninety percent sure he was right.
In any case, the matter was more or less settled. The force behind that group of Tribulation Cultivators surely wouldn’t dare to make any rash moves for the foreseeable future.
Lin Changheng could now focus on his Cultivation with peace of mind and process his recent gains.
...
Time slowly trickled by, and life at Jade Belt Lake returned to its peaceful state.
It was a picture of harmony.
After sharing the ordeal of nearly having their islands breached and being slaughtered, the relationship between the Three Islands grew even tighter, fostering a much deeper sense of trust.
Lin Changheng and Moonrest Island had, in one fell swoop, become the backbone of the Three Cultivators and the head of the Three Islands.
In the blink of an eye, a year and a half had passed.
Lin Changheng’s hundredth birthday was fast approaching, now less than a few months away, but he had yet to emerge from his seclusion.
This long period of seclusion had begun shortly after the crisis on the Three Islands was resolved and had continued to the present day. Lin Changheng had not made an appearance the entire time; the Restriction on his Seclusion Room remained tightly sealed, and there was no trace of his aura.
Yan Mingyi, who had been busily preparing for a small celebration, was waiting for her husband to emerge.
Lin Changheng had never expressed any desire for a celebration, but Yan Mingyi had her own ideas. Believing her husband’s hundredth birthday was an occasion worth celebrating, she had painstakingly planned and organized everything herself.
If one were to look down from high above Moonrest Island, they would see that the entire island was already festooned with lanterns and colorful banners, many festive decorations having been put up in advance.
Glowing vines twined around the Spirit Trees, while large red lanterns and brocades bearing auspicious patterns hung between pavilions and verandas, creating a lively spectacle.
However, even more striking were the busy figures moving quietly about the island.
They were not human, but numerous human-shaped puppet creations—some entirely jet black, others shimmering with a silvery-white metallic sheen!
Their forms were exquisite and their lines fluid. Their joints moved with supple grace, and their actions were precise and efficient, completely devoid of any stiffness.
The black ones, possessing immense strength, were hauling massive stones and timber, reinforcing or constructing new facilities on the island according to some plan.
The silver-white ones were more agile; some meticulously pruned the branches and leaves of Spirit Plants, others hung decorations, and still others cleaned the pathways.
They worked in silence, seemingly linked by some invisible connection. Their division of labor was clear and their coordination seamless, allowing the preparations on Moonrest Island to proceed with a speed and precision far beyond ordinary imagination.
These were advanced versions of the Jet Black and Silver-White Puppets that Yan Mingyi had gifted to Lin Changheng back when they first met.
She had casually created them after breaking through to Tier Two in the Puppet Dao, incorporating the Tier Two Upper Grade Puppet Dao Inheritance she had obtained.
It was a case of turning the mundane into the magnificent; their functionality far surpassed that of their predecessors.
Their existence not only freed up a great deal of manpower but also made the daily operations of Moonrest Island more efficient and discreet. There was no need for female attendants or servants, which prevented the problem of too many eyes and ears and the potential for information leaks.
In terms of actual value, these puppets were only for menial tasks and assisting with daily life. Their external worth wasn’t high, falling far short of her combat models.
...
Meanwhile, Lin Changheng was hard at work inside his Seclusion Room.
The room was thick with misty Spiritual Qi, and the temperature was extraordinarily high, causing the very air to shimmer and distort.
A mass of dark gold flame burned quietly before him. It radiated a scorching heat, yet its aura was strangely restrained. This was the Red Sky Profound Flame he had painstakingly cultivated.
At the heart of the flame, a long shard of wood, about as thick as an infant’s arm and a deep, profound cyan in color, slowly rotated, bobbing up and down within the dark gold fire.
This shard of wood had originally been covered in a deathly, stagnant layer of char, like a stubborn curse. But under the continuous refining burn of the Red Sky Profound Flame, ninety-nine percent of this charred layer had already been removed.
All that remained were a few extremely stubborn flecks, scattered like stars across the wood’s profound cyan surface.
Now, under the steady and precise burn of the Red Sky Profound Flame, these final charred spots were visibly, yet ever so slowly, shrinking and disappearing.
With each speck of char that faded away, the exposed surface of the profound cyan wood revealed an even clearer, more intricate and arcane texture.
These patterns were not tree rings, but something more akin to naturally formed, special inscriptions—impossibly ancient and arcane.
’It’s almost finished.’
Lin Changheng’s impassive gaze suddenly sharpened.
He flared the flame with all his power.
WHOOSH—CRACKLE! POP!
As the last few flecks of char were completely refined away, a profound light bloomed from the entire piece of Profound Cyan Shattered Wood. The brilliance then abruptly receded inward, but a deeply hidden, ancient, and majestic aura—as heart-stopping as an awakening dragon—began to permeate the Seclusion Room.