Innate Talent

His father had been right. He was too weak, forever lacking the mettle of a true man. He Lingchuan poured cold water on the thought. "Relying on the Luosheng Armor alone, your people still wouldn't have defeated the Yao Kingdom." "The Shanjin Plain needed a great hero, but unfortunately, I wasn't one," A'xun murmured wistfully. With every gust of wind, black ash drifted from his body. "Unfortunately, I wasn't." "Single-handedly, you sealed the Luosheng Armor away for a hundred and sixty-five years. Who knows how many calamities you averted, how many lives you saved?" He Lingchuan crouched down to look him in the eye. "A hero is judged by his deeds, not his inner doubts. You have done more than enough. You owe nothing to the Shanjin Plain." So many heroes and champions had arisen across the Shanjin Plain, yet they had been mere passersby. Once they were gone, the plain remained the same as ever, hardly changed at all. Yet A'xun was different. This man, who appeared less than steadfast and even somewhat indecisive, had silently guarded it in his own way for over a hundred and sixty years. Fu Liushan chimed in as well, "As soon as the Ying people reached the new world, they erected a memorial tablet for you, and generations have revered you ever since, down to this very day. The spirit you passed down was the driving force that propelled them to brave the wind and waves and forge ahead." "Is that so? My kin really did well for themselves after all." A'xun smiled faintly at He Lingchuan. "You are stronger than me—much stronger—so you must shoulder more. You are the Luosheng Armor's nemesis. It fears you, yet you possess something it desperately craves." He still retained some fleeting memories from the battle and knew the Luosheng Armor's yearning. Hearing this, Fu Liushan looked at He Lingchuan with a peculiar gaze. A nemesis? The Luosheng Armor had a nemesis? He Lingchuan nodded, knowing A'xun was referring to the heart scale. "I want to know: how exactly did the Luosheng Armor control you?" In this day and age, probably no one alive could give a precise answer to that secret except A'xun. "Fear!" A'xun answered from his own firsthand experience. "It finds the deepest fear in your heart and uses it to break you!" *So it really is fear,* He Lingchuan thought, lost in reflection. "I can no longer keep the Luosheng Armor sealed. From now on... it's up to you. I don't know what you plan to do, but I hope you can manage it. The Shanjin Plain shouldn't suffer any more." A'xun sighed softly, his body completely carbonized. "I leave the folding-flick sabers to you as well. Find them a worthy master." His smile froze at last into an expression of relief. A gust of wind blew, and he dissolved into ash. A faint, ghostly sigh drifted through the surrounding air: "If only... I could see Mengmeng just once more..." An opening of the eyes, and a century had passed; a tender wife and young child turned to smoke and mist. In the end, they were lost to him, never to meet again in this life. Such was the price of a hero. A'xun, along with the past of the Ying people, finally drifted away on the wind. The three stood where they were, silent for a long while. It was Fu Liushan who finally sighed. "He is finally free." The corners of his eyes were slightly red. "Thank you for the stories you told us back in the tavern," He Lingchuan said with a slight smile. "They were very helpful to us." A few nights ago, in the rain, the three had sat around a table. Drinking the wine He Lingchuan bought, Fu Liushan had recounted a series of stories surrounding the Luosheng Armor. The most tragic and lamentable was Bao Ning. The most moving—and the very last story—was that of the Ying father and son: One hundred and seventy years ago, to deliver the Ying people from their plight, Chieftain Fu Xiong had successfully obtained the Luosheng Armor from Mount Jing. Unbeknownst to him, he was possessed and manipulated by the evil armor, becoming the source of even greater disaster. Up to that point, the tale seemed poised to repeat past cycles; after all, every time the Luosheng Armor appeared in the world, such calamities erupted. Yet this time was different. At the critical juncture, the chieftain's son, Fu Tianlin, stepped forward, drew the evil armor from his father onto himself, and sealed himself within Ke Ridge. The Ying people were thus spared a terrible catastrophe. When Chieftain Fu Xiong regained his senses, he was overcome with remorse. Following his son's final wishes, he liquidated the clan's assets and led the Ying people across the sea from Julu Port to migrate to the new world—territory that had now become the Qing Kingdom—leaving behind the God-Forsaken Land forever. Over the past century and more, many desperate people had come to Mount Ke to try their luck. Yet no matter how they summoned or performed rituals, the Luosheng Armor gave no response. Aside from the Fu family's generational maintenance of the sealing formation, the most crucial factor was the imperial bloodline—namely, Fu Tianlin's vital contribution in forcibly suppressing it. Thus, the Luosheng Armor had slumbered for over a hundred and sixty years, until— Until He Lingchuan arrived! When the black ash settled, only a pitch-black suit of armor remained on the ground, along with the pair of folding-flick sabers. He Lingchuan first picked up the sabers. The right one was snapped in the middle, but Songyang Mansion should be able to repair it. He glanced at Fu Liushan, who waved a hand and said briskly, "They're yours." He respected Fu Tianlin's dying wish. Besides, he couldn't use such peculiarly shaped weapons anyway. "Even without the Luosheng Armor, A'xun was a formidable warrior," He Lingchuan said, stroking the blade. "I will find a good new master for you." Both Fu Xiong and Fu Tianlin had possessed terrifying combat strength, which was why the Yao Kingdom had been so determined to bring them to heel. In some sense, that very strength had also been the root of the Ying clan's sorrow. Dong Rui stroked his chin. "Why do I get the feeling that right from the start of the battle, you were able to handle the folding-flick sabers with ease?" Anyone facing such odd weapons for the first time should have been caught completely off guard, shouldn't they? How had this kid fought so calmly, without the slightest fluster? Had he seen them before? Fu Liushan hadn't witnessed the exact details of the battle, but he nodded in agreement from the side. Anyone who could defeat the Luosheng Armor and the folding-flick sabers was certainly no ordinary person. He Lingchuan stood with his hands behind his back and offered a faint smile. "That's what they call innate talent." He had already encountered A'xun in the Panlong World and had experienced the folding-flick sabers firsthand. Back then, when he went up Baimao Mountain to retrieve the Bright Lantern Cup, A'xun—going by the name Fu Tianlin—had fought him, but failed to take it from him. That had, of course, been a simulation by the Dafang Pot, but through it, he had gained an understanding of A'xun's combat style, which was why he hadn't been thrown into disarray during this clash in Ke Ridge. Back in the tavern on that rainy night, the moment Fu Liushan mentioned Fu Tianlin, He Lingchuan knew it was him. Yet what He Lingchuan wondered was: in real history, who had actually taken the Bright Lantern Cup? Certainly not himself; he had not existed in the real world a hundred and sixty-five years ago. Who had Panlong City sent back then? That question was probably destined to remain unanswered. He was certain of only one thing: Whether in the Panlong World or in real history, A'xun had never obtained the Bright Lantern Cup. Now, the three men stood side by side again, looking down at the black armor on the ground. This was the renowned Luosheng Armor. Even after spending over a century underground, it bore not a trace of rust. In the dark night, a strange power seemed to flow across its plates, inspiring a sense of awe. The scars left from A'xun's clash with the Yao army and with He Lingchuan—whether deep or shallow—had already faded or vanished entirely. This armor possessed an astonishing capacity for self-repair. "The Luosheng Armor's nemesis?" Fu Liushan was thoroughly conflicted. As the guardian of the seal at Ke Ridge, by rights he shouldn't stand by and watch someone else take this evil armor away. Yet just moments ago, Fu Tianlin himself had stated that He Lingchuan was its nemesis. A'xun had wrestled with the Luosheng Armor for more than a hundred and sixty years; he knew it best and had the greatest say. So what was Fu Liushan supposed to do? "You came here specifically for it, didn't you?" "Of course." How could He Lingchuan deny it? "I can't stop you from taking it." Given the combat prowess He Lingchuan had displayed earlier, Fu Liushan knew he stood no chance in a fight. He looked at He Lingchuan, then down at the armor on the ground. "But you heard what Fu Tianlin said. Everyone feels fear, and everyone can be exploited by the Luosheng Armor. How do you intend to master it?" Dong Rui scoffed in protest. "Others managed it in the past. Didn't the founding emperor of the Shanjin Empire live out his natural lifespan?" "That was over a thousand years ago. The more fear and suffering the Luosheng Armor absorbs, the more powerful it becomes. You know as well as I do that the Shanjin Plain lacks many things, but never those two." The evil armor could grow over time, couldn't it? "Even if that founding emperor were here today, he might not be able to suppress it anymore." Dong Rui immediately turned to He Lingchuan. Before he could speak, He Lingchuan asked him first, "Do you want to try?" "No, no, absolutely not." A wise man knows his limits; Dong Rui was terrible at resisting temptation, and he probably couldn't withstand fear either. He Lingchuan took another step toward the evil armor. The thing suddenly clattered loudly, behaving with intense agitation. If it weren't incapable of standing on its own, it likely would have lunged at He Lingchuan already. The other two understood at a glance. Fu Tianlin had been right: He Lingchuan possessed something it desperately craved. Dong Rui let out an impressed sound. "Just what kind of treasure are you hiding?" He Lingchuan already had his suspicions, but shook his head. "I can't give it to the armor." "Then what are you going to do with it?" Dong Rui gave a light cough. "You're not thinking of putting it on, are you?" "No," He Lingchuan answered flatly. He brushed a hand over his chest, then bent down and pressed his palm against the Luosheng Armor. His expression was nonchalant, and his movement was so swift that before Fu Liushan could react, the Luosheng Armor surged forward with a sharp hiss to meet him. The treasure! The treasure it craved! "Don't—" Before Fu Liushan could finish his warning, a sharp metallic crack rang out. The Luosheng Armor on the ground suddenly came apart of its own accord, breaking down into countless individual plates! Every single plate was desperately trying to burrow into the earth. This abrupt turn of events stunned the two men and two monkeys watching from the side. Just a second ago, this evil armor had been dying to throw itself onto He Lingchuan. Why was it now trying so desperately to flee? Moreover, its posture was like that of field mice fleeing the talons of a bird of prey—every single plate was straining with all its might. He Lingchuan's palm acted like a wind tunnel, whistling as it sought to suck the evil armor inside. Strangely, neither Dong Rui nor Fu Liushan felt even a strand of their hair stir. Yet both of them clearly heard the sound of a violent gale rushing over the Luosheng Armor, like an unwilling, shrill roar of fury. The first plate couldn't hold out and was sucked into He Lingchuan's palm, followed by the second, the third... Fu Liushan couldn't contain his curiosity and leaned down to see what was happening to He Lingchuan's palm. Unexpectedly, the suction abruptly surged, and with a whoosh, all the remaining plates were drawn inside. Without waiting for him to look up, He Lingchuan spread his palm out toward him. His palm was empty. There was nothing there. Where was any wind tunnel? Where was any magic artifact? His fingers were bare; he wasn't even wearing a storage ring. Fu Liushan's jaw nearly hit the ground, and he even forgot to push himself back up. "What... what did you just do?"