Talu

Once Chen Chuan received word and clarified the situation, he checked out of his room at once and went to the constable's residence. The man enthusiastically led him to a private dock. A sailboat was moored there. The boatman was a dark-skinned, robust man whose face was covered in deep wrinkles, making him look like an old man, though judging by his physical condition, he was likely not even forty yet. According to the constable's introduction, this boatman was originally a resident of Feiguang Island. Although his whole family had now relocated to Luowang Island, he remained very familiar with the conditions there, so Chen Chuan had nothing to worry about. Chen Chuan noticed that the boatman seemed somewhat reluctant, yet appeared rather fearful of the constable, making his compliance seem somewhat begrudging. He smiled faintly, stepped onto the boat, and sat down inside. The constable took off his hat, waved it toward him, and wished him a pleasant journey. Chen Chuan nodded in acknowledgment. As an out-of-town tourist, he had been mentally prepared to be scammed and had already planned his subsequent response, yet the man hadn't played any tricks after all. In truth, it was standard practice for island residents and officials to rip off out-of-town travelers; it would have been strange if they didn't. But this constable simply hadn't dared to pull anything in front of him. Having held this post for a long time and seen countless travelers come and go, the constable had a keen eye. One glance at someone like Chen Chuan was enough to tell he was a formidable fighter. He dared to exploit ordinary folk, but if he dared to cheat a fighter, an unlucky slip could result in his entire family being slaughtered the very next day. This was no exaggeration—his predecessor had died precisely that way. Having learned from that lesson, he avoided offending fighters whenever possible, not to mention that Chen Chuan had actually paid him. Rocking gently, the sailboat headed out to sea. Just then, a chirp echoed from above; Chaoming had caught up in the sky. After sailing for more than half an hour, Luowang Island had shrunk in their wake. Suddenly, the sea surged violently, jolting the sailboat into a heavy toss. Startled, the boatman immediately threw himself flat against the deck, prostrating completely while chanting, "Erlu, Erlu..." Chen Chuan had spent the past couple of days on Luowang Island and knew that "Erlu" was the name of that legendary sea monster. Still, it seemed rather odd that the man wasn't calling upon the goddess, but instead praying to an undersea monster. Yet this tremor in the seawater had come quite abruptly. It didn't feel like an earthquake, and the wind over the sea was perfectly normal... Beneath the waves? He gazed out across the water, lost in thought. A few minutes later, the anomaly subsided. The boatman stood up, still muttering under his breath, and only after quite a while did he wipe away his sweat and resume tending the sails. Around Luowang Island lay many reefs and islets, with numerous vessels traveling back and forth. Chen Chuan noticed that near one islet, many sailboats and rowboats were circling about, seemingly searching for something. "What are they doing?" he asked. The boatman replied in stiff Great Shun speech, "Dredging for a ring." Chen Chuan pressed further and learned that a traveler had dropped a wedding anniversary ring into the sea and declared a reward of fifty thousand Jianzhi dollars for whoever salvaged it. As a result, a crowd of people had come out to try their luck. Fifty thousand was no small sum. Not just here, but even in Center City, that was serious money. No wonder it had drawn so many people. He smiled and asked the boatman, "Haven't you tried your luck?" The boatman shook his head and said faintly, "In over twenty years, the goddess has never favored me." After that, he said little else. The boat had set out a little past five in the morning, and past ten o'clock, a volcanic island appeared on the horizon. The boatman pointed ahead. "Feiguang Island." Chen Chuan stood up and looked into the distance. A cone-shaped volcanic crater loomed ahead, thick plumes of vapor rising from the island. From afar, it looked just like an erupting volcano, which explained why the locals were unwilling to come here. And that was his destination. Seeing Chen Chuan standing firm, seemingly completely unfazed by the tossing of the boat, a hint of awe showed in the boatman's eyes. Around noon, the boat finally drew close to the island. By now, Chen Chuan could clearly make out the island's landscape. The surrounding seawater was crystal clear; under the brilliant sunlight, vibrant corals were visible below, while lush, verdant vegetation encircled the cone-shaped crater. Once close, the boatman lowered the sails and switched to oars, eventually pulling up alongside a shore of mixed sand and rock. Seeing this, Chen Chuan pulled out a stack of Jianzhi dollars, handed them to the boatman, and said, "Thank you. I will be staying here for a while. You may head back." The boatman froze, clearly not expecting Chen Chuan to pay for a job arranged by the constable. A genuine smile instantly broke across his face. After a moment's thought, he said, "Honored guest, you can follow the white pebble path. Where there is no path, follow the trail markers, and you'll find the people on the island. They can direct you further." Chen Chuan thanked him once more and leaped off the boat onto the sand. The wind blowing from the island was strong, carrying a cool freshness from the distant woods that felt invigorating. Glancing around, he spotted the white pebble path about a kilometer away. Instead of rushing over, he made a hand gesture. After a brief wait, the flapping of wings sounded, and Chaoming descended from the sky, landing ahead and leaning in close. He reached out to stroke the bird, took a tube of nutritional paste from his pocket, peeled it open, and fed it to Chaoming, while also offering some water from a custom flask. After resting for a while, Chaoming beat its wings and took to the sky once more. Chen Chuan ate several tubes of nutritional paste himself, replenished his fluids, and then walked in that direction, soon spotting the trail marker the boatman had mentioned. It was a signpost assembled from polished bone fragments bound together, its pointed end aiming toward a specific direction. The path beneath his feet stretched forward, leading deep into the forest. Lifting his Xuejun Saber, he walked along the indicated route. The pebble path was intermittent, fading in and out, but thanks to the recurring signposts, he never strayed from the course. After walking roughly seven or eight kilometers, a thatched gallery came into view, and a bare-chested young man with sleek, well-defined muscles and glossy dark skin emerged. Holding a staff painted with colored patterns, he looked Chen Chuan over and said in fluent Great Shun speech, "Sir, ahead lies private territory. If you have come to tour the island, you may go that way..." He pointed his staff in a direction. "There is a village there that can host you." Chen Chuan said, "I have come to see Talu." This Talu was a member of the Purist Faction and the successor of the Danliu School, one of the Outer Ocean Islands' Twenty-One Schools. Under the regulations established by the Grand Alliance back then, if a school inherited from the Old Era failed to produce a martial artist for three consecutive generations—meaning sixty years—it would no longer be recognized by the Grand Alliance. Any martial resources it possessed involving the third limit and above had to be handed over to the Grand Alliance, though the Grand Alliance would provide appropriate financial or material compensation in return. This rule was subsequently adopted by governments and corporations alike. Yet more than a century ago, before the Grand Alliance had even been founded, the Danliu School lineage had already ceased producing martial artists. According to the school's own account, this was because the fissure passed down since the Old Era had vanished, leaving all of its fighters unable to inherit the school's profound, esoteric arts. In reality, however, that was not the case. The fissure had not truly disappeared; it had merely shifted locations, which eventually led to the decline and fall of the martial arts school. But in an unexpected turn of events, the fissure was finally rediscovered by a successor who searched relentlessly. That person was the master of the current Talu. He later joined the Purist Faction and voluntarily made the fissure available to worthy individuals within the faction for cultivation. Hearing him mention Talu, the young man grew wary. "You know Talu?" Chen Chuan said, "Please tell Talu that Mr. Zhuan sent me." The young man scrutinized him, then blew a whistle. After a short wait, a thin, diminutive boy who moved with great agility came running up. Pointing at Chen Chuan, the young man muttered a few words in the native tongue. The boy nodded, darted into the woods, and quickly vanished from sight. Chen Chuan waited for about ten minutes before an elderly man wearing a headband and loose cloth garments walked out. The young man bowed immediately. "Apa." The elder walked up to Chen Chuan, clasped his fists in greeting, and asked politely in fluent Great Shun speech, "Honored guest, you know Mr. Zhuan? Do you have any proof?" Chen Chuan produced the pig-snouted dragon from his pocket. The moment the elder saw it, his expression turned profoundly respectful. Bowing, he said, "Honored guest, please follow me." With that, he stepped aside and made an inviting gesture. Chen Chuan nodded and followed the elder. After crossing a stream, they ascended along a gently sloping mountain trail, arriving at an open clearing only a few hundred meters later. Here stood many ancient buildings constructed from piled stone. They were evidently of great age; the paint and finishes had mostly peeled away, and perforations clearly meant for ornamentation held only rotting, broken remnants of wood. Even so, the patterned stone floor tiles and weathered stone carvings still hinted at their former craftsmanship. On the open ground in front of the buildings stood a tall woman, roughly twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old. Her build was athletic, her cheeks flushed with health, and her features striking and pleasant to look at. Dressed in a white martial arts uniform, she had bronze skin, and beneath prominent brows, her eyes shone with extraordinary vitality. At the moment, she was instructing a group of young people, among whom were quite a few youths and children. This had to be Talu. "Talu" was merely a title. Every generation's inheritor of the Danliu School's lineage would cast aside their birth name and adopt this moniker. Chen Chuan was in no hurry to interrupt. Instead, he walked over to stand beneath a sun-shading gallery. The elder brought him coconut juice and local fruits, which Chen Chuan accepted with thanks. After waiting for about half an hour, Talu concluded the instruction. Bringing her thumbs together and pressing her palms flush, she let out a clear, sharp shout. In response, everyone assumed the same posture, gave an echoing shout, bowed to her, and only then dispersed. Once they had left, Talu walked over toward Chen Chuan.