Chapter 199

Chapter 199: Xinghai Village’s Anguish

That sudden warning definitely caught Lou Yun’s attention. He turned swiftly toward the voice and saw a man around fifty years old.

Spotting Lou Yun’s look, the elder immediately lowered his head. Ignoring Lou Yun entirely, he turned around and briskly walked away.

Watching the elder’s retreating figure, Lou Yun pondered a moment before understanding. The elder’s gesture was clearly a well-meant warning—their only offense had been wrecking that shop. The shop owner must be someone fearsome, at least within Binhai City, hence the elder’s kindness.

With so many observers around though, the elder feared Lou Yun might inquire further. If word reached the shop owner’s ears, the elder would face dire consequences.

Lou Yun deliberately slowed his pace, letting the elder get far ahead before hurrying to catch up with Wen Hou and Tie Sha. "You three find an inn first. I have something to handle—I’ll join you later."

Wen Hou smiled and replied crisply, "Fine." He didn’t ask Lou Yun’s destination or offer help. Grabbing Tie Sha and Shui Lingluo, he left decisively. Only Shui Lingluo glanced repeatedly back at Lou Yun.

Lou Yun greatly admired Wen Hou’s character—no idle questions, just action. When assigned by Zhuge Mou, he and Tie Sha traveled distances without hesitation to find Lou Yun. Anyone would wish for such a friend.

Though Lou Yun realized theirs wasn’t yet a life-or-death bond, he longed to build true friendship with them both.

Once the trio disappeared, Lou Yun proceeded toward the elder’s direction.

He walked unhurriedly—his spiritual sense had already locked onto the elder’s energy pulsation. There was no fear of losing him.

The elder, too, was a magical weapons master, though pitifully weak, barely intermediate realm. Reaching fifty with such minimal attainment meant his cultivation had peaked. He should abandon training to live peacefully as an ordinary man.

Such thoughts drifted through Lou Yun’s mind as he walked. Should he share the complete cultivation method?

He shook his head, smiling bitterly. Who was he? An ordinary cultivator. Few would credit his words. Announcing the true method across the Spirit Weapon Star would invite ridicule—most would deem him a fool.

Unbeknownst to him, Lou Yun’s fame had grown on Spirit Weapon Star. Backed by four prestigious titles Beichen Ming conferred and alliances forged through sworn brotherhoods, his words now carried weight.

Lou Yun maintained distance until surroundings grew sparse. Not wishing to startle the elder, he called from afar, "Old Sir!"

The elder halted, turning slowly. Recognizing Lou Yun, he stiffened—but seeing few nearby, he waited.

Lou Yun approached and offered a courteous bow. "I thank you sincerely for your warning earlier. Yet its meaning eludes me—I’ve followed you hoping for clarity."

The elder nodded thoughtfully. "Well, young man, your intent is welcome. But this spot lacks privacy. Let’s change locations."

"Agreed."

They paced onward, murmuring softly. Lou Yun learned the elder went by Cai San Gong—third brother in his Cai clan—and resided just outside Binhai City in Xinghai Village. Since the village hugged coastal waters, fishing sustained its people. Abundant seafood let villagers live decently.

Beyond Binhai City’s gate, Cai San Gong pointed ahead. "Young Master Lou, Xinghai Village lies just yonder. Won’t you join an old man for a drink?"

Originally, Cai San Gong had sympathized with these young cultivators’ plight and warned despite risks. Now, Lou Yun’s courteous intelligence warmed his hospitable self, prompting the invite.

Lou Yun grinned acceptance. "My pleasure to disturb you, San Gong."

"Disturb? Think nothing of it! Come!" Cai San Gong beamed.

But nearing Xinghai Village, his expression darkened. Unable to resist, Lou Yun queried directly, "Have you encountered troubles, San Gong?"

Cai San Gong sighed heavily. "Not just me—our entire village lives under shadow. Alas, the tale must wait."

He quickened his stride, heart burdened. Not pressing, Lou Yun trailed in silence until they entered the village.

Night approached. Typically, houses stirred—preparing fires, chopping greens.

But Xinghai Village lay inert: men and women slumped at doorposts, faces furrowed and silent. Only children stirred—though subdued by adult despair, huddling and whispering in stifled giggles.

Lou Yun puzzled: What trial crushed this village so?

Xinghai held over a hundred souls. Seeing Cai San Gong return, several middle-aged men hurried over, hope flashing: "San Gong, San Gong! Any progress?"

In villages, new faces draw curiosity—sometimes hospitality, sometimes stares. But no villager turned a glance toward Lou Yun. To them, he seemed nonexistent.

Cai San Gong’s grim headshake snuffed that hope. Heavy sighs returned as the men shuffled back to their seats.

Lou Yun grasped: Cai San Gong led this village. He’d entered the city purposefully—but failed his mission, breaking everyone’s spirit.

Yet again, Cai San Gong sighed before addressing Lou Yun. "Pay their discourtesy no mind, Young Master Lou. Homeward we go."

"Indeed."

Cai San Gong’s cottage stood at the village’s farthest edge. Passing through, they heard sparse sounds: waves against shore, children murmuring. No other life stirred—Xinghai felt deserted.

What baffled Lou Yun most: Where were the village’s dogs? Other livestock? None crossed his path.

Finally, they reached the modest hut.

Cai San Gong pushed inside first. "I keep solitude here; little fills this space. Young sir must bear simplicity."

Lou Yun reassured, "Truly sufficient. Very comfortable."

After lighting an oil lamp, Cai San Gong settled Lou Yun, then bustled inside and out preparing food.

Soon dishes covered the table: mostly cured and dried seafood, freshly steamed vegetables, and one big jar of wine.

He pounded open the mud seal, filling two cups. Raising his cup, he toasted, "Young Master, meeting you honors fate. Drink deeply!"

Downing it whole, he paused only to refill his cup—and Lou Yun’s—again and again, coaxing and swallowing. Observing the elder’s distress, Lou Yun didn’t interfere until the fifth bowl. Then, seizing the jar, he pressed intently, "San Gong, name your village’s woe. Perhaps I can lend aid."

Drink had flushed naught beyond Cai San Gong’s cheeks—he bore liquor gracefully. Grinning bitterly, he nodded. "Good! You’ll hear my woes and speak counsel to mend them. But first! Pour!"