Burning Books

To be honest, for a split second, Ji Jue had half a mind to swing his hand and smack Zhou Cheng right in the back of the head. *Inverting the heavenly order—who're you calling 'us two, grandfather and grandson'?!* Yet his hand had barely lifted when he suddenly remembered: Oh, right, the kid really did have a grandfather. Master Artisan Zhou Chong. Under the sharp gaze pinning him from the deepest recess of the workshop, the hand he had raised halfway sheepishly shrank back. To avoid embarrassment, he even feigned brushing some dust off Zhou Cheng's back. Then, under the boy's furious glare, he flashed a smile that said, *See how good I am to you?* *When under another's roof, one must bow one's head... I won't hold it against you.* Striding boldly inside and glancing left and right, he realized that this time, Zhou Chong had relocated more than half of his workshop's equipment over here. The deep underground space was already crisscrossed with spiritus circuits, arranged in three layers above and six below, interlocking tier by tier, sealed inside and out. A quintessential—and extravagant—Heavenly Circuit. By means of the sigils of the Twelve Virtues and numerous sacrificial offerings, it endowed the workshop with a tangible concept of heaven and earth: three heavens of the azure vault, six layers of the underworld. As the core essence of the Sovereign Virtues circulated and shifted, enhanced defense was secondary; the primary purpose was catalyzing the creation within the furnace to induce a unique qualitative transmutation. It was best suited for the decrees and control of the Tianyuan lineage. When necessary, the outer Heavenly Circuit could interface directly with the creation inside the furnace, making manipulation far easier. At this moment, stepping into the Heavenly Circuit, Ji Jue felt the stern, inviolable laws circulating through the spiritus and radiance. Even standing inside, without authorization, he remained shut out. One could only view it from afar. Not the slightest subtle change or core essence could be spied upon. From a long way off, he spotted the figure standing before the crucible, back turned to him. With his hands clasped behind his back, the gaunt master coldly observed every shift within the furnace, controlling the coordinated operation of the outer Heavenly Circuit. Naturally, he could also sense the intruder who did not belong to the workshop. "Ji Jue?" "Yes." Ji Jue stopped five paces away, nodding respectfully like any junior. No matter how arrogant he might be, he had to acknowledge the chasm between himself and Zhou Chong, and pay respect to such mastery. As an artisan, however much one might disdain the rest of the world, reverence was owed to the act of creation. "Hmph, a great figure indeed—knowing when to bend and when to stand tall." Zhou Chong sneered without turning around. "Your teacher already told me about your business. In Quancheng, I owed her a favor. Never thought she'd cash it in on you. "Seems my favor doesn't count for much in her eyes after all." Ji Jue remained calm, simply replying, "My teacher cherishes me." "..." Zhou Chong's words hitched, and he fell abruptly silent. Who knew what crossed his mind, or if he was simply focused on controlling the furnace's shifts. After a long while, he pointed toward a nearby desk, where a form already bore a signature. Then he pointed to a spot beside the furnace, where an apprentice was soaked through with sweat. "Signature is right here. Work is over there." He asked, "Can you do it?" Ji Jue stepped forward two paces, looking at the massive crucible. "What's in the furnace?" "A sword." Ji Jue paused slightly. "Why a sword?" "Why couldn't it be?" Zhou Chong countered indifferently. Ji Jue replied truthfully, "Considering Tong Shan's style and habits, a sword might not be the best choice." "Is waving a banner around on the battlefield any better? If he's so fond of charging battle lines with a lance, he might as well go join the Swarm." Zhou Chong scoffed. "An artisan isn't a servant; there's no need for such pampering. Adjusting minor details is fine, but if you lack vision and merely cater to whims, how can you command Sovereign Virtues and forge myriad phenomena?" Ji Jue looked back at that expressionless face. "Can Master Zhou truly be certain that his design is better than the wielder's preference?" "I can." Zhou Chong answered resolutely. Decisive, without a shred of hesitation. Beginning from his apprentice days, countless trials and tribulations, the accumulated experience after becoming an artisan, the myriad cases studied as a Celestial Chosen, and the painstaking creations and explorations again and again... all had forged a mastery towering far above the mediocre, and an eye and instinct sharper still. Unilaterally rejecting the original design and proposal, he weeded through the old to bring forth the new, altering the course to create something entirely novel. Even with a client as formidable as the Tong family, he didn't yield an inch. Let alone the doubts of a mere apprentice. Ji Jue had no way of judging the specific details and grounds, but this blatant confidence—or arrogance—truly made him see the man in a new light. The Path of Embers had always judged everything by success or failure. Even if Zhou Chong spoke with a gilded tongue, if the final result fell short, there would be no explaining his way out of it. Even without knowing the exact details, judging merely by the Heavenly Circuit layout and the staggering investment, the cost shouldered by the Tong family was definitely no small sum. Nor was the Tong family the kind of pushover you could casually hoodwink or appease with a few discount vouchers if you botched the job. In commissions like this, where avoiding mistakes took precedence over seeking merit, following the manual and sticking to established norms was the usual practice. That Zhou Chong dared to gamble a lifetime's reputation and his workshop's lifeblood credibility for the sake of his own design showed a boldness that already placed him leagues above most. Ji Jue sighed softly. "Point taken." "You're not my student. Why would I teach you?" Zhou Chong remained impassive, not even bothering to glance back. "If you can do it, do it. If not, get out." Ji Jue said nothing more. He slipped off his jacket, dumped his miscellaneous belongings into its pockets, handed it to Tong Hua, and grabbed a work suit from the corner to pull on. He walked straight toward the crucible. Stepping forward was like walking into the crucible itself. Invisible flames spread, filling the air in an instant. Terrifying heat was hemmed into the space around the crucible; sweat evaporated before it could even bead on skin. A sharp, searing pain tore down his airways. The air warped with the extreme shifts in temperature, causing everything in sight to shimmer between near and far, expanding and shrinking, making him stumble involuntarily as he walked. Right in front of the open furnace, the apprentice tasked with feeding materials was on the verge of collapse. His hair was scorched and curling, his eyes bloodshot. Crouched on the ground, his body swayed uncontrollably. When he lifted his eyes, they had already lost focus. Seeing Ji Jue approach, he numbly handed over what he held, staggered to his feet, took two steps, and collapsed to the floor with a thud. Apprentices waiting at the periphery rushed in immediately, hefting him up and hauling him outside to avoid disrupting the transmutation. Around the crucible, stationed at the nodes of the Heavenly Circuit framework, more than a dozen apprentices were maintaining the operation, working with polished coordination and zero delay. Under Zhou Chong's command and control, the Heavenly Circuit framework shifted, a continuous stream of delicate maneuvers unfolding—an astonishing spectacle that left Ji Jue thoroughly impressed. Truly worthy of being Haizhou's renowned sweatshop, a ruthless operation that even Kanemoto would give a thumbs-up. The apprentices were like tools, rapidly used up and replaced one after another like endless standardized spare parts. And what enabled all those meager talents and actions to integrate into a single whole, sharing Zhou Chong's burden and executing his commands, had to be the intricate spiritus sequence concealed beneath the Heavenly Circuit framework—the so-called Convergence of All Sources. What a fine thing. Truly fine. Something this good—he had to find a way to swipe it no matter what. Unfortunately, Zhou Chong's security was extraordinarily tight, watertight to the point of being impenetrable. As a signature craft meant to be passed down through the workshop, it was impossible not to take strict precautions. Not just Ji Jue—even the surrounding apprentices taking part in it could hardly fathom the complete picture. Once acclimated to this system of theory, they would have no other choice but to lay bricks within the framework Zhou Chong had established, slowly climbing upward in hopes of gaining greater authority and theoretical knowledge... Starting anew elsewhere would be no different from starting from scratch. Small wonder people called it a black-hearted shop. "Feed." A cold voice sounded by his ear. In that instant, guided by the movement of surrounding spiritus and the shifting circuits, fissures opened around the crucible. Gouts of flame burst forth, illuminating Ji Jue's pupils. Without thinking, Ji Jue raised his hand. Between his fingers, pages of paper rose, curling and charring in the surging flames. The ash dissipated without a trace, leaving only countless characters rising from the embers, overlapping one another. Ink washed through the air, as if an invisible brush were tracing strokes through the flames. In a flash, the roar of a deluge erupted, a torrent of immense waters surging forth from creation, flooding everything. Yet under the compression of the Heavenly Circuit framework, it remained firmly sealed within the furnace. Torrents rushed, ripples clashed, and colossal waves churned. The sound of surging ocean tides rose fiercely amidst the turbulent vibration, but amidst that chaotic roar, a clear, ringing hum abruptly emerged—a resonant sword cry. Sweeping through. Then the roar broke apart, dissolving into lingering murmurs before vanishing completely. In the very heart of the flames, that faint silhouette immediately grew a shade clearer. From that fleeting ripple, the fine hairs on the back of Ji Jue's hands stood on end. He sensed bone-chilling sharpness and strict, solemn order. Within the circulation of spiritus, the blessings of Tianyuan, Aether, Mirror, and Desolate Ruins revealed themselves. The aura of the quadruple blessings surged, already showing signs of gradually coalescing into one. Simply celestial craftsmanship. No—the reason for such tedious, extensive preparations, such heavy investment, and the adoption of the Heavenly Circuit framework was precisely for this seamless, innate "evolution"! Between the azure vault and the underworld, the quintessence of Sovereign Virtues flowed, gradually synthesizing through the catalysis of phenomena, fusing into an inseparable whole. And Ji Jue's job was to continuously cast the record tome, serving as a "catalyst," into the flames. "Feed." Zhou Chong's voice rang out once more. Without hesitation, Ji Jue reached out again. The matrix of Non-Offensive flickered over both his hands, slipping with pinpoint precision through a seam in the heat that could have incinerated him to ash in an instant, replenishing the phenomena. Instantly, thunder cracked in succession, and the earth rumbled. A howling storm whipped up from within the furnace. This was his job. Burning books.