The Weaponsmith Workshop now housed many peculiar wonders, its atmosphere completely transformed from the early days.
More than a hundred projects were currently categorized as major research endeavors. Even with the astronomical sums of capital in Yu Zhizhuo's hands, the funds proved somewhat insufficient to distribute among them all. He had no choice but to slash a few seemingly ostentatious projects—such as a certain miracle medicine intended to accelerate the progress of Desolate Roar.
Wei Yuan, however, was somewhat distracted, his mind continuously turning over what had just occurred. The sensation in that instant had been deeply bizarre. The first few million points of mortal fortune had allowed him to touch upon a certain karmic strand and clearly see dawn just ahead, which was why he had continued pouring mortal fortune into it.
Yet afterward, things felt wrong. Wei Yuan had felt as though he were shoving an invisible, colossal weight forward against countless obstacles. Only after sacrificing over a hundred million points of mortal fortune had he broken through them one by one to arrive at that conclusion.
The more he looked back on it now, the more amiss it seemed. It was almost as if the conclusion had never existed, or had fundamentally been incorrect, until Wei Yuan used a hundred million points of mortal fortune to forcibly bend the trajectory of fate. Had that conclusion truly been calculated by that person, or had he smashed it into existence himself with mortal fortune?
Just then, Yu Zhizhuo transmitted another beam of light and said, "This is the preliminary draft of this year's annual report I compiled. Since only nine months of this year have passed, I borrowed three months from last year to give you a sense of the figures. At present, the Weaponsmith Workshop's total annual output is worth just barely three hundred million qingyuan..."
Wei Yuan suddenly asked, "Where is the person who wrote *A Single Spark Can Start a Prairie Fire*? Take me to see him!"
"...So right now, the Weaponsmith Workshop alone is equivalent to half an empire..." Yu Zhizhuo trailed off mid-sentence before finally registering the words. "He's just a bookish nerd who studies mathematics. If you're interested, I can simply summon him over. Why would you need to go in person?"
"No, we're going over right now!"
Seeing Wei Yuan's grave expression, Yu Zhizhuo was startled. Stepping forward to lead the way, he shifted space in an instant, crossing dozens of li until three jade-white towers appeared before their eyes.
These were residences built specifically by the Weaponsmith Workshop for senior researchers. Though devoid of flower gardens or landscaped grounds, they offered commanding views from above. Furthermore, their interior amenities possessed an otherworldly flair—practical, convenient, sleek, and elegant—making them a great favorite among the younger generation. Most of the workshop's key researchers resided here.
Yu Zhizhuo appeared directly on a thirtieth-floor balcony. Just as he raised his hand to knock, Wei Yuan said from behind him, "No one's inside!"
Yu Zhizhuo looked surprised. "That shouldn't be. I checked his workplace first, and they said he hadn't shown up today, which is why I brought you straight to his home. No matter, he shouldn't have gone far..."
With that, Yu Zhizhuo unleashed his divine sense, instantly sweeping across a thirty-li radius, letting no detail escape his notice.
In that single moment, countless cultivators and mortals sensed the probe and looked up at the sky, wondering what was happening.
The sheer vastness and majesty of this familiar consciousness even caused dharma idol experts to shudder slightly. They couldn't help but marvel in their hearts: *The Workshop Master's cultivation is profound indeed.*
Yet no sooner had the thought arisen than countless streaks of azure lightning erupted across the heavens! A horrifyingly immense divine sense swept out to blanket the sky and earth, enveloping the vast domain in a single breath! Wherever this divine sense passed, friction with the void birthed crackling bolts of lightning, drawing perilously close to a heavenly tribulation!
Every single person—from peak dharma idol experts down to the youngest mortals and elderly civilians—froze in place like insects trapped in amber, incapable of moving a hair!
Then, a colossal, majestic, detached, and icy gaze cast downward, scrutinizing every soul in the city.
With so much at stake, Wei Yuan no longer held back, enveloping the entire Weaponsmith Workshop in his divine sense to immobilize everyone within the workshop city before scouring for his target.
Yu Zhizhuo's expression shifted slightly as he cast a profound look at Wei Yuan.
The workshop city currently held a full eight hundred thousand people, including ninety thousand template Dao Foundations and seventy dharma idol masters—yet every last one of them had been utterly suppressed by Wei Yuan! With a mere thought, Wei Yuan could transform this entire metropolis into a city of death!
Never had Yu Zhizhuo witnessed such terrifying divine sense, not even from immortals.
His expression flickered repeatedly, stormy waves churning in his heart. He had assumed he was separated from Wei Yuan by only a major realm of cultivation, never imagining that Wei Yuan's true power had reached such unfathomable heights! If the two of them were to clash, Wei Yuan wouldn't even need to employ Daoist arts; a direct blast of divine sense would shred Yu Zhizhuo's sea of consciousness to pieces.
The terrifying divine sense persisted for three full breaths before slowly receding. The target had not been found.
By now, Yu Zhizhuo realized something was terribly amiss. He immediately summoned the cultivators in charge of every sector across the workshop city and interrogated them in detail. Moments later, the findings emerged.
The cultivator who had penned the book was around forty years old, a middle-aged man of slightly weathered appearance who habitually dressed as a scholar. The research topics he had originally handled were all rather strange and not in particularly urgent demand, so very few had paid him much attention.
Yesterday, he had reported to work as usual, returned home in the evening, enjoyed a solitary drink at a small eatery, and then gone to bed at home.
This morning, the Great Array of the Heavenly Constellations had detected him leaving at his normal hour, presumably heading to work. There, all records abruptly ceased. He had not arrived at his workplace, had not returned home, was nowhere to be found in the city, and had no record of leaving it. He had vanished into thin air.
The man possessed an ordinary Mortal Tier Dao Foundation and had arrived in Qingming three years prior. Only recently had he begun to distinguish himself. His treatise, *A Single Spark Can Start a Prairie Fire*, had caused a minor stir—not because of its conclusion, but because the mathematical mastery displayed within was matched by few, commanding deep admiration even from Wen Guantian.
For that very reason, the book had entered Yu Zhizhuo's field of view. When Wei Yuan came to inspect the looms today and questioned why all these talents possessed template Dao Foundations, Yu Zhizhuo had remembered this book that answered Wei Yuan's inquiry, promptly recommending it to him.
Even looking back now, Yu Zhizhuo felt the circumstances had been riddled with coincidences—so coincidental that they seemed impossible to orchestrate. Furthermore, attempting to scheme against Wei Yuan within Qingming struck Yu Zhizhuo as something even Immortal Monarch Yanshi could not pull off.
Had the author not vanished without a trace, Yu Zhizhuo would still have dismissed it as mere coincidence. Now, however, it certainly was not.
Wei Yuan suddenly asked, "What was his name?"
Yu Zhizhuo froze, and his expression instantly turned unsightly. He had failed to recall the man's name! It was not that he had never known it, but that he had once remembered it and now forgotten it completely.
How could someone who wrote such a work and left such a profound impression have no name? Yu Zhizhuo had even spoken with him several times and exchanged greetings whenever they crossed paths on the street. How could he have forgotten his name?
As a peak dharma idol expert himself, Yu Zhizhuo naturally understood that someone had deployed heaven-defying methods to erase the corresponding karmic ties. It was only because they were within Qingming that the erasure had been less than absolute.
Wei Yuan had naturally deduced this as well. After pondering for a moment, he said, "Fine methods indeed! Had he erased everything, you wouldn't have remembered reading the book at all, let alone recommended it to me. As it stands, I've read the work, yet the man's identity is forgotten—truly measured to absolute perfection!"
Yu Zhizhuo's face darkened. It had been a long time since he had felt played like a pawn in someone else's palm.
Yet Wei Yuan suddenly broke into a smile. "Though he accomplished something through my hands, it's ultimately no great matter. What he pushed for happens to be what I wanted to do in the first place. Since he wants us to grant room for template Dao Foundations to grow, we shall give them room!
"There are far too many figures in the heavens weaving schemes against one another; no matter what we do, someone's meddling hands are bound to intrude. So let us not overthink it. Whether someone is manipulating the board behind the scenes or not, as long as it benefits our growth, we shall press ahead without hesitation! Once we are strong, none will be able to match us!"
The gloom in Yu Zhizhuo's heart began to lift. He let out a hearty laugh and said clearly, "Well said! Still, you'll need to look through my annual report with care. If you approve, I believe this entire system can be rolled out across all of Qingming. Besides, over the past few months, we've uncovered two massive iron veins, a coal vein, and a spirit jade vein, yet I can't mine any of them!"
"Oh? Why is that?"
Yu Zhizhuo's eyes grew deep. "These deposits boast colossal reserves. Mining them poses no difficulty at all, but the trouble is that once extracted, we have to manufacture goods with them. And no matter what we make right now, who are we supposed to sell it to?"
Wei Yuan was taken aback. He furrowed his brows in deep thought, then shook his head after a long silence.
This was an utterly intractable problem, just like the grain surplus. Qingming had largely halted land reclamation by now; Chuhe's focus had shifted toward nourishing earth veins and converting them into spiritual fields to cultivate spiritual rice. The reason was simple: grain and meat were in such vast abundance that they couldn't be eaten fast enough, and even the earliest batches of canned goods were about to expire.
After musing for a long while, Wei Yuan finally said, "Since there is nowhere to sell them, we shall use them ourselves. First, we will construct a floating road dedicated to land-traversing flying boats, stretching from Qingming all the way to the Lu clan ancestral lands and straight into the northern frontier!"
Yu Zhizhuo gasped in shock. "That is three hundred thousand li!"
Wei Yuan nodded. "The expenditure is indeed massive, but the benefits are equally immense. This road will cut through Western Jin, effectively linking Ningxi and Ganzhou—a total of thirty-six commanderies—into a single whole with Qingming. Our armies will be able to reach any point along the route in an instant. Heavy-armor units can push directly into the northern frontier. Striking the Liao Clan will also relieve the pressure on our northern mountain gate.
"Furthermore, this won't be merely a road. We shall requisition fifty li on either side, constructing military camps, fortresses, supply depots, and workshops along the way. In truth, wherever the floating road reaches, that land shall belong to Qingming!"
Yu Zhizhuo drew a sharp breath. "This... is excessively overbearing!"
Wei Yuan smiled faintly. "If we aren't overbearing, why did we manufacture these mountains of goods? Why did we nurture this army of a million cultivators? If those artillery shells and missiles aren't fired, are we going to let them rust away into scrap metal? If we don't spend our qingyuan, are we saving it for war reparations?
"We possess a fierce army of ten million wolves and tigers. If they don't get moving soon, they're all going to grow fat!"
Yu Zhizhuo sighed. "That may be so, but rashly raising arms is never a good thing."
Wei Yuan patted his shoulder. "What you say is certainly true. I don't wish to raise arms either. So as long as our opponents surrender and cease resisting, doesn't that mean the war won't have to be fought?"
"Huh??" Yu Zhizhuo's mind briefly failed to follow the turn.
Wei Yuan added, "Besides, I have no desire to seize territory or subjugate people; I merely wish to sell the goods you manufactured. If even this modest ambition cannot be satisfied, then they can hardly blame me for being discourteous.
"Those scoundrels act purely for their selfish interests, willing to plunge the common people into misery rather than permit us to sell our goods. Such fiendish heretics deserve death without pity! As an orthodox sect of righteous reputation, it is only natural that we eliminate them with utmost haste!"
Yu Zhizhuo opened his mouth, then closed it, ultimately letting out a sigh. Forbidding him from manufacturing goods was out of the question—that would defy the Heavenly Dao. Once produced, goods naturally had to be sold; he had merely manufactured a tiny bit too much, that was all.
Therefore, all of this was simply to sell some wares—naturally the righteous course of action. Yu Zhizhuo found it remarkably easy to convince himself.
Chapter 1189