I Might Be a Big Shot — Chapter 18
Seeing that the burly man had already pulled the Thunder Lord's Hammers from his back, Li Xinglun quickly said, “Senior, wait — let me go in and check first.”
With that, he flashed into the thick fog, groping about randomly until he touched that familiar warmth again.
“Master?” Li Xinglun felt it was wonderfully smooth and touched it twice more, but couldn’t tell what part he was touching.
“Mm.” Changkong Zhuoyu said, “Your master’s artifact is still the best.”
“Of course,” Li Xinglun hurriedly placated Changkong-the-three-year-old-Zhuoyu. “But this fog is your robe, and that man’s about to barge in swinging his hammer — Master, you’re a lofty figure, are you really going to let him shove himself into your robe? That’s far too improper!”
Changkong Zhuoyu suddenly came to his senses. “You’re absolutely right! It’s one thing if it’s you, but letting even them crawl inside your master’s robe is outrageous!”
As soon as he spoke, Li Xinglun felt a massive force shove him clean out of the white fog. The fog quickly dissipated before everyone’s eyes, and Changkong Zhuoyu appeared before them holding a paper fan.
Li Xinglun: …
When did he buy that fan?
Li Xinglun had long noticed that in the Central Plains, scholars held higher status, while warriors were seen as crude. Whenever Changkong Zhuoyu stopped at an inn, he’d notice those casually fanning themselves and reciting poetry were given special treatment — those who had earned titles didn’t even have to kneel before officials. How could Changkong-the-three-year-old, who loved to show off, miss such a chance? His eyes had been going green staring at robes and fans these past days.
Rang Cencen thought being called “witch” had made Changkong Zhuoyu resent those scholars, that his sharp gaze at them was out of loyalty to her, and her heart melted. She just knew Sect Master Xue was a man who was cold on the outside but warm inside, surely kind to his followers — to serve him was her greatest fortune.
But Li Xinglun knew that Changkong Zhuoyu just thought waving a fan looked cool and wanted one. Since he had no money — only Golden Core cultivators could make puppets to earn — Li Xinglun, still weak, secretly took a book-copying job, staying up nights copying mountains of texts until he finally scraped together enough silver to buy a paper fan for Changkong Zhuoyu. He planned to give it subtly, but had kept it in his breast pocket — yet somehow Changkong Zhuoyu already had one. Li Xinglun suddenly felt a little deflated.
Wait… that fan looked awfully familiar.
Li Xinglun touched his chest and sure enough — the fan had disappeared just like the dagger before.
So when had Changkong Zhuoyu realized he’d bought it? And if others couldn’t reach into his robe, why could he just reach into someone else’s? That’s not how sleight of hand works!
Despite all these questions, the thought that Changkong Zhuoyu noticed and valued the fan he’d worked so hard to buy… Li Xinglun suddenly felt the same faint sweetness Rang Cencen did.
“This… Senior,” the burly man had meant to say “brother,” but upon realizing he couldn’t gauge this man’s depth, immediately switched to “Senior,” “was it you who dispersed this fog?”
Changkong Zhuoyu said nothing, just nodded slightly, keeping with his usual aloof persona.
“With this fan?” the man exclaimed in awe. Even using spiritual sense, he couldn’t discern the fan’s depth.
With a crisp snap, Changkong Zhuoyu opened the fan and said in a deep voice, “The Dark Frost Underworld Fire Fan.”
A name no one in the cultivation world had ever heard.
Changkong Zhuoyu wasn’t one to show off — yet he raised his brows at Li Xinglun, who was still too distracted by the fact that the fan he’d bought for a few taels of silver was now in his master’s hand, and failed to notice the interaction. So Changkong Zhuoyu stepped closer and raised his brows again.
A plain mask paired with a flirtatious look — Li Xinglun found it unbearably awkward. But imagining that expression on Changkong Zhuoyu’s real face… it became irresistibly beautiful.
As his disciple, Li Xinglun of course understood his master’s intent. So he immediately blurted, “The Dark Frost Underworld Fire Fan — its ribs are frost, its surface fire. The ribs are crafted from ten-thousand-year ice jade from the far north; anyone without sufficient power would freeze just by gripping it. The surface may look like ordinary paper, but it’s made from Underworld Fire of the Path of Reincarnation, compressed into the ribs. In this world, only Underworld Fire is cold enough yet unquenched by ice jade. Both are extremely yin, and combined they chill to the bone. Anyone below Soul Transformation could never refine it into their dantian. Although extremely yin, when yin reaches its extreme it reverses — it intimidates all evil spirits, for ordinary demonic yin can’t compare. Yet this yin is pure, not evil — Underworld Fire burns all karma, and no sinister being can approach this fan.”
Li Xinglun sweated profusely as he recited to himself, ‘This isn’t my cheap fan this isn’t my cheap fan this isn’t my cheap fan…’ until he finally managed to say it aloud.
“Then!” the man exclaimed, “Underworld Fire is no longer of this world — is this an immortal artifact? Yet it looks just like the fans hanging in a study down below…”
Clearly not easy to fool. Fortunately, after spending time with Changkong Zhuoyu, Li Xinglun had gained some skill at swindling. He immediately said, “A supreme artifact naturally returns to simplicity. Though this fan doesn’t count as an immortal artifact, it’s still top-tier among magic artifacts.”
Rang Cencen gazed with worshipful eyes that said, ‘The weapons my Sect Master uses are all this amazing’, never questioning a word. She only thought herself ignorant for letting Li Xinglun steal the moment. She carefully memorized every word he’d said, planning to impress others next time by explaining it herself.
Hearing her quietly repeat his words, Li Xinglun: …
Great, if the man still didn’t believe it, and Changkong Zhuoyu actually demonstrated… how could a fan he’d bought for a few taels compare to a Thunder Lord's Hammer with a spirit?
Sure enough, the man wasn’t a fool. Half-believing, he cupped his hands and asked, “I am Rong Jian. May I know Senior’s name?”
“Changkong Zhuoyu,” came the reply — an unknown figure in the cultivation world.
Rang Cencen hurried to explain for her master: “Our… Young Master Changkong was once a renowned senior in the cultivation world, but now he’s beyond fame and fortune, unwilling to mention his true name. Now he is just Changkong Zhuoyu.”
Very good. Changkong Zhuoyu was pleased, and gave Rang Cencen an expressionless look of approval.
Sect Master Rang instantly felt surrounded by pink bubbles!
Only the lone sane Li Xinglun felt bitter inside. How would this end?
He could have stayed quiet, but seeing Changkong Zhuoyu’s expectant look, he couldn’t stop himself from spinning that story. To prevent Rong Jian from asking to borrow the fan, he even claimed it couldn’t be handled below Soul Transformation.
Actually, genuine cultivators’ true artifacts were often life-bound and wouldn’t be casually lent. Rong Jian wouldn’t have made such an impolite request anyway.
As they talked, they quickened their pace, soon leaving the tourists behind and reaching the outer peak of Mount Shu. Ahead lay the maze formation — beyond that was Mount Shu’s true domain.
Legend had it that in ancient times there were thirty-three heavens, and Mount Shu’s peak reached the twenty-eighth. Becoming a disciple meant stepping into the god realm. After the Three Realms split, Mount Shu remained high, but those below immortality couldn’t endure the winds of the twenty-eighth heaven — no one had seen the place since.
They had finally arrived at this sect steeped in ancient legend.
Such an illusory formation wouldn’t stop them. Once inside, Rong Jian couldn’t help saying, “Now that no mortals are here {no regular humans, only cultivators}, I must admit I’m fascinated by Young Master Changkong’s Dark Frost Underworld Fire Fan. Would you be willing to spar with me a bit, just to see its power?”
He gripped his hammers, which buzzed excitedly.
Li Xinglun broke out in a cold sweat — he really feared Changkong Zhuoyu might say yes.
“No,” Changkong Zhuoyu said coolly. “The Dark Frost Underworld Fire Fan’s yin is too strong — even a light bout could harm bystanders. If you wish, you can witness it when we break the formation shortly.”
Li Xinglun had just breathed a sigh of relief when his heart leapt again. Master, you’re planning to use my cheap fan to go head-to-head with the Twin Swords of Purple and Azure?
Well, at least if it gets torn apart, we can just say it was the power of a divine artifact — no trace left behind. Truly worthy of his master’s sleight of hand.
“Huh?” Rong Jian suddenly exclaimed. “Don’t you know Mount Shu’s formation opened a path today? I thought you too came in response to the Mount Shu hero’s invitation.”
“Uh…” Changkong Zhuoyu was dumbfounded, Rang Cencen was stunned — only Li Xinglun managed to recover and forced himself to ask, “My master, once a sword cultivator, came to seek the world’s greatest swordsmanship. He didn’t know of this.”
“Ah, so you’re recluses — no wonder you didn’t know the world has already fallen into chaos!” Rong Jian’s words were shocking.
“What happened?”
“The Kunlun divine formation has been broken!” Rong Jian said. “The head of the righteous Kunlun Sect, Yin Changkong, has disappeared, the sect is in disarray, and demonic cultivators struck while the Kunlun divine formation was down! It must be a demonic plot — who’d have thought that after Xue Qianjie, someone could directly shatter the Kunlun divine formation. Now the demonic path rises, the righteous sects suffer repeated blows. Just days ago, the minor sect Li Clan was completely massacred!”
Li Xinglun’s expression instantly turned cold.
“You mean… the demonic path did this?”
“Hard to say!” Rong Jian sighed. “In any case, to stabilize the situation, Mount Shu has stepped up to lead and sent out invitations — the great battle of righteous and demonic paths is about to begin again!”
~ Chapter End ~
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