Chapter 360

Chapter 360: Immortal Qian Ji

Sometimes Yu Sheng honestly wondered how the little turnip on his shoulder—only 66.6 centimeters tall—managed to produce such brilliant speeches in her head. Still, he could clearly feel how deep Little Doll’s resentment about her height ran.

For example, right now she didn’t even mind staying 66.6 centimeters, as long as she could “drive” a body that was 1.67 meters tall.

That made Yu Sheng sigh. “You’ve really mastered the art of settling for second best, but this is way too second-rate.”

“I don’t have a choice!” Irene grabbed his head and shook it hard. “Just tell me if it’ll work!”

“Let go! Let go—my hair!” Yu Sheng fumbled as he pried off the doll’s tiny claws. “I’ll ask around for you later. Let go!”

Only then did Irene finally release him. She lifted her head and kept staring at the twelve-meter-tall Vanguard divine armament peak, her face blank and a little dazed.

“I always feel like I used to be really, really tall. I looked at everything from above, like I was gazing down,” she muttered. “Sigh… I can’t even remember what it felt like to look at people from that angle. Now I have to crane my neck to see anything. If I spot one of those mixed-breed dogs—like a chow crossed with a pomeranian—I have to hide… I’m scared they’ll pick me up in their mouths.”

Yu Sheng listened, torn between laughing and crying. He patted Little Doll’s head as a makeshift comfort, then looked over at Yuan Ling. “You’ve taken this automaton apart like this. Find anything new?”

“If I had to name something, yes.” Yuan Ling nodded. “On the inner side of the automaton’s rib armor, there’s an inscription left by the craftsman. It reads: ‘Forged, Tianyuan Year 127, Third Month, Eighth Day, the supreme radiance valley Cast-Gold Pavilion, craftsman—Song Xing Zhi.’ It’s written in the script still used on the Grand Void Star today, except the characters for ‘Heaven,’ ‘Valley,’ and ‘Craftsman’ are in an older form.”

Irene blinked. “What does that mean?”

Yu Sheng had already pieced it together. Before Yuan Ling could answer, he said, “It means this part rolled off the line on March 8th of Tianyuan Year 127. The factory should be a place called the Cast-Gold Pavilion in the Supreme Radiance Valley. And the person directly responsible for production was a craftsman named Song Xing Zhi. Right?”

That last bit was for Yuan Ling.

“Exactly.” Yuan Ling nodded.

“So an automaton dug out of an otherworld not only has real-world markings, it even has a formal production trace inscription…” Yu Sheng said, thinking aloud. “That’s unusual.”

Yuan Ling’s expression turned serious. He slowly shook his head. “More than that. The bigger problem is that we don’t know what year ‘Tianyuan Year 127’ refers to, and we also don’t know what kind of place ‘the Supreme Radiance Valley Cast-Gold Pavilion’ even is.”

Yu Sheng froze.

And just as he opened his mouth to ask for more, a pleasant, wind-chime-like ringing sounded from nowhere. Yuan Ling tilted his head, listening.

“The Elder Qian Ji of the Reclining Cloud Ten Halls has arrived,” Yuan Ling said a moment later. He nodded to Xuan Che. “Xuan Che, go welcome him in.”

Xuan Che bowed at once, accepted the order, and flew out of the hall.

Yu Sheng waited with a mix of patience and curiosity. About twenty minutes later, he heard the sound of mechanisms turning outside. Then the heavy door opened again. A tall figure strode in and headed straight for Yuan Ling.

The instant Yu Sheng saw him, his expression stiffened.

Because the one who walked in looked almost like an automaton.

This “Immortal Qian Ji” was cast entirely from metal—bronze and iron bones glowing with a soft spiritual sheen. Even his daoist robe carried a metallic luster, as if it were fused to his steel body. His chest was deliberately left open. A thick transparent casing was set into it, and through the window they could see ticking gears, linkages, and rotating shafts. At the center of those constantly moving parts, an iron-gray heart beat slowly. With each pulse, intricate immortal talismanic runes surfaced across its surface—delicate, profound, and faintly eerie.

The tall “automaton” stopped a short distance away and cupped his hands to Yuan Ling. A deep voice, slightly vibrating, resonated from his chest cavity. “Yuan Ling, your soul-quelling tower has added quite a few new curiosities again. When are you going to let me study them?”

“Immortal Qian Ji, it’s been a while,” Yuan Ling laughed, returning the salute. Then he reminded him, “We have a distinguished guest here today. Try to restrain yourself…”

Only then did Immortal Qian Ji seem to notice the hall contained people besides Yuan Ling and the Vanguard divine armament peak. He turned his head and looked over Yu Sheng’s group.

His gaze landed on Luna, who was still staring into space.

“Hello, Daoist Friend,” Qian Ji said solemnly, giving a proper bow. “May I ask what material this body of yours is made of?”

Luna didn’t react at all.

“Ahem.” Yuan Ling hurriedly cleared his throat twice and lifted a hand to introduce them. “This is Yu Sheng, the expert I mentioned to you—our honored guest. The one you greeted just now is Young Lady Luna. This nine-tailed silver fox is Young Lady Foxy. And on Yu Sheng’s shoulder…”

He didn’t even get to finish.

Qian Ji had already turned and walked up to Yu Sheng, bowing with the same solemn respect. “Hello, Daoist Friend. Did you refine the small automaton on your shoulder yourself? It’s truly small and exquisite…”

The moment Yu Sheng heard the words “small automaton,” he knew disaster was coming. Sure enough, a blur shot past his ear.

Irene launched like an enraged bird, profanity pouring out in a foul, colorful stream. “You bastard—‘small’ would’ve been enough! You had to add ‘small and exquisite’ too! Exquisite my ass, you—”

Luckily, after spending so long with Little Doll, Yu Sheng had trained reflexes that belonged in a war zone. The second he felt his shoulder shift, he reached out and snatched her in midair, grabbing her around the waist.

Irene dangled from his grip by her belt, flailing and raging helplessly. The target of her swearing promptly switched to Yu Sheng.

Immortal Qian Ji’s face—made from layered copper plates and flexible metal—showed genuine shock. The gears beside his eye sockets ground softly as he stared at Irene thrashing in the air. “So nimble… and such a fiery temper!”

“Her name is Irene,” Yuan Ling said, finally finding an opening, looking thoroughly resigned. “She is an Alice doll. She suffered some misfortune in her early years, so she has to take shelter in this shell for now—and this shell was also refined by Yu Sheng.”

The gears in Qian Ji’s chest clicked. He went rigid for half a heartbeat.

Then, to Yu Sheng’s disbelief, Qian Ji turned back to Irene, cupped his hands, bent at the waist, and gave a deep bow. “Daoist Friend Irene, I offended you. Please forgive me.”

Now it was Irene’s turn to lock up. “…”

Clearly, Little Doll was used to screaming matches online—wars that could last hundreds of posts without either side taking a breath. This was the first time she’d met someone like this. She gaped for a long moment before scraping together the last shred of manners buried in her bones. “Uh… it’s fine. You too.”

Only then did Luna suddenly lift her head and nod once at Qian Ji. “Mm. Hi.”

Qian Ji paused, visibly unsure what to do with Luna’s delayed greeting.

Then, as if he noticed something, his gaze shifted back to Yu Sheng. From deep inside his ticking mechanisms came a strange clattering sound.

“This Daoist Friend Yu…” Qian Ji muttered, confused. The lenses embedded in his eye sockets telescoped in and out, and his tone turned uncertain. “Daoist Friend, are you using an avatar here? Why can’t I see clearly…?”

Yu Sheng went blank. “…Huh?”

“Assume your lenses need wiping!” Yuan Ling snapped. “And why does this body of yours keep making weird noises—what number is this?”

“Heaven No. 22,” Qian Ji replied casually. “I originally planned to send Earth No. 16, but Earth No. 16 went to repair the earth veins a few days ago, fell into magma by accident, and got burned up. So I had to send Heaven No. 22 since it was free.”

He tilted his head, listening to his own joints. “The odd noise you mentioned is probably because I hit a mountain while flying over. The joints are a bit loose. It’s fine.”

Yu Sheng listened to all this talk about Heaven No. 22 and Earth No. 16 with reluctant fascination. Seeing it, Yuan Ling explained, “Managing major sect affairs is busy work, and we can’t neglect cultivation and teaching, so we each have our own methods. I use external avatars. Immortal Qian Ji built a whole pile of identical bodies for himself. By purpose, he divides them into three types: Heaven, Earth, and Human—for research, crafting, and administration.”

He added, “This is also a unique kind of ‘avatar’ method for the artifact-refining path. What you’re seeing here isn’t his true body, just a mechanism avatar. Of course, after so many years, Immortal Qian Ji probably can’t even tell which body he started with anymore, right?”

“Haha, sometimes I really can’t,” Qian Ji said, laughing loudly, completely unconcerned. “Whatever I draw, I use. The spirit is the source; the shells are just lodging. This is the mechanism path of ascension…”

Irene had caught on, and she immediately jabbed Yu Sheng’s head excitedly. “Hey, hey! That sounds a lot like me!”

Qian Ji turned at once. “Daoist Friend Irene also cultivates the mechanism path of ascension?”

“I don’t know!” Irene said. “Yu Sheng molded all my bodies for me.”

Qian Ji looked at Yu Sheng again. “Daoist Friend Yu Sheng also cultivates the mechanism path of ascension?”

Yu Sheng’s temples started to throb.

How did this get so messy?!