On the bronze tablet, over three thousand densely engraved characters recorded in detail the refinement method of Sword Fang, along with a complementary Yuan Drawing Technique known as the Sword-Washing Formula.
Holding the bronze tablet in his hands, Jing Qian pushed the power of Worldly Insight to its limit. Like a high-definition camera, in an instant, it engraved the entire content of the method into his mind, never to be forgotten.
Moments later, the knowledge within seemed to dissolve like a block of tofu, broken apart, kneaded, and fully absorbed into his memory.
From memorization to full comprehension of a White Fang–tier Life Pattern's refinement, Jing Qian needed only a few minutes.
The divine power of the Worldly Insight was plain to see!
Silently, he put the bronze tablet away and said:
"Many thanks for Steward Tao's assistance. Should I achieve a breakthrough in one of the crafts, I will be sure to repay this favor."
Tao Yong chuckled and replied:
"Best you focus on solving your Jing family's troubles first."
"Now that you've stepped onto the Dao, you're granted a year of free time before taking up official duties in the Prefecture."
"Will you remain here in the Prefecture to cultivate, or return to your island home?"
Jing Qian bowed slightly.
"Steward, I still have trivial matters at home left unsettled. I must return first."
Tao Yong nodded.
"Your waist token allows you two free rides on the crow-car each year. Beyond that, you'll have to pay. Go on your way."
Jing Qian gave a formal bow, then turned and departed.
As he left the residence, his mood shifted sharply.
The tempering he had undergone in the Prefecture had elevated both his cultivation and his state of mind.
Alone in this new world, he felt no fear, only a soaring fighting spirit.
Exiting the Prefecture, the ground beneath his feet was no longer paved stone but the tongue of the dragon-serpent.
The tongue of this sixth-rank Spiritual Construct was as hard as steel, firm beneath his steps with no hint of softness.
He moved swiftly, heading deeper toward the serpent's throat.
On the upper wall of its massive jaws, countless luminous pearls had been embedded, casting daylight brightness across the Prefecture grounds.
He strode on for more than five hundred meters, reaching the base of the serpent's tongue.
Beyond lay its abdomen an abyss of darkness, like a bottomless hell.
At the boundary between brightness and shadow stood a massive bird's nest, a hundred meters across.
Jing Qian climbed the walkway leading into the nest.
No sooner had he entered than four pairs of eagle eyes, each the size of millstones, locked onto him with an intimidating aura.
Scanning the area, Jing Qian saw four enormous black ravens, each occupying a corner of the nest.
Choosing the nearest one, he climbed onto its back.
A red-bronze seat was firmly fixed to the raven's back, built for passengers.
Jing Qian sat down and commanded:
"Take me to the Hunzhou Seaport Market!"
At once, the raven beneath him beat its wings and soared upward.
With a wingspan of more than twenty meters, its speed was astonishing. In the blink of an eye, it passed through the Li Dragon's nostril and emerged into the open sky.
These ninth-rank White Fang ravens, repurposed as crow-cars, were the Prefecture cultivators' primary means of travel across the island.
As his raven ascended, Jing Qian glanced down and spotted a familiar figure emerging from the depths of the dragon-serpent's belly.
The man dragged three massive anchors with one hand, his steps steady and heavy.
Behind him, three battered ships followed, dragged across dry land solely by his physical strength.
To haul ships on land through brute force, such terrifying might could only belong to Ling Mingji, the head of the Prefecture's Military Affairs Office, whom Jing Qian had once glimpsed by sheer chance.
Sensing the gaze from above, Ling Mingji lifted his head toward the raven.
Jing Qian's eyes met his briefly before he hastily looked away. By then, the raven had already soared out of the Li Dragon's nostrils and into the skies.
From that fleeting moment of observation, Jing Qian gleaned a few insights.
This great cultivator of the Longevity Realm was cloaked at all times in the phantom form of a Divine Roc, shielding him without flaw.
Even if Jing Qian attacked with his full strength, he likely couldn't pierce the man's defenses.
And on Ling Mingji's body, Jing Qian detected the presence of a Spiritual Construct:
Spiritual Construct: Subduing Dragon
Suppression Requirements: Pattern of Bird-Beasts, Pattern of Gods and Spirits, Pattern of Mountains and Seas.
Life-Span Burden: Eleven hours per day.
Jing Qian recorded all of this information, then let the raven carry him far away.
...
Inside the Prefecture Office, Qian Yuan sat alone in his quarters, deep in thought.
Even though he had pushed his schemes to their very limits, that brat from the Jing family had still managed to escape with his life and even advanced into the Ninth Rank Fatebinding Realm.
Not only had it cost Qian Yuan one of his Sixth Rank Fate Fires, but the boy had also secured an official position within the Prefecture Office.
Now, the Qian family's costly plan to seize the Jing clan's proper store was on the verge of collapse.
Even as a mid-level officer in the Prefecture, with real power and status, he could not openly sabotage his colleagues; such things were taboo.
And by now, the grudge between the Qian and Jing families was known throughout all of Hunzhou.
If Jing Qian were to suffer an "accident," tongues would wag, and it could jeopardize Qian Yuan's own position and authority.
Yet to say he could simply give up on securing the store license? Impossible.
For the past century, he had failed in more than thirty attempts to break through into the Longevity Realm, and now his lifespan was nearly at its end.
As for the younger generation of the Qian clan, they were all worthless, incapable of carrying the family's banner.
Without the protection of the store license, once he died, the Qian family would end up worse than the Jing clan, driven back to the Hunzhou plains, slaving away just to raise dragons, forever stripped of any chance to rise again.
He had no choice but to muster even greater strength to destroy Jing Qian.
Qian Yuan did not sleep a wink that night, pondering until dawn.
At Hunzhou's Seaside Market, twenty-four proper stores stood in neat rows around a vast crossroads.
Jing Qian stood at the very center of the intersection, carefully observing the marketplace.
The crow-chariot truly lived up to its reputation as the Prefecture's tamed Ninth Rank transport beast: fast, smooth, and exceptionally comfortable.
At a speed of eight hundred li per hour, it had carried him back to the market in less than two hours.
Returning now, his mentality, his cultivation, and his social standing were all completely transformed.
Naturally, his actions would be different as well.
With calm composure, he walked straight into the Jing clan's proper store and made his way to the main hall of the great estate.
There, he casually told the first person he saw:
"Go and summon everyone to the main hall. I have something to say."
He then dragged a large rosewood chair to the very center and sat down with ease.
Before long, everyone still residing in the Jing store had gathered.
Among them, only the old steward and Qian Xi were faces Jing Qian recognized; the others were strangers to him.
Once they were all present, Jing Qian spoke in a cold, emotionless voice:
"Why are you still here? Haven't you thought about running away?"
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