Chapter Fifty-Eight: Looking Toward the Northwest

Jinling Temporary Laboratory.

Bright lights illuminated every inch of the lower level of the room, with arc lighting that surpassed the era and a metallic scent in the air—signs that revealed the laboratory’s dangers. If one wasn’t intimately familiar with the safety regulations prepared by Lan Yi, a careless touch or a single misstep would most likely end with omnipresent, dutiful currents sending the trespasser straight to their doom.

Yet even this was not the most terrifying aspect. The most immediate and visceral fear arose the instant one entered the lab and instinctively gasped at the sight above: the massive human-shaped figures glaring down with furious eyes. Most of their hulking forms were hidden in the shadows of the upper level, and in the flickering arcs of light they appeared ferocious and menacing, as if, at any moment, they might leap forward with preternatural speed and smash intruders with tens of thousands of tons of steel.

These were not living things. Nor were they lifeless—within their abdomens lay the solidified [Canghua], an embryonic neural network created by Lan Yi.

They were the Golden Men, crafted by Immortal Lan Yi.

“Gather the weapons of the world, bring them to Xianyang, melt them down to forge twelve Golden Men, each weighing a thousand stones, and place them in the imperial palace.”

There is a tradition among the spiritual practitioners of riverine civilization: whether in creation or in the passing down of techniques, names are often unconsciously drawn from ancient tales and legends. This habit, a kind of subconscious commonality, persists even across time and worlds, spreading the seeds of riverine civilization far and wide.

These twelve Golden Men were not warriors built for battle. Their power source, transmission efficiency, mass, and autonomous systems, in Lan Yi’s assessment, were so inadequate that not only would they not survive the perilous clashes of spiritual practitioners, but even in the era of the Great War, a single stick of dynamite would easily send them flying. Yet, as instruments of intimidation, they served their purpose admirably.

Towering in stature, fierce in visage, and imposing in design, they resembled the generals of the gods. Every day, the young disciples arriving to study would tremble at the sight of the Golden Men. Even Xiao Hongzhuan, who was accustomed to the skyscrapers and massive sculptures of the modern world, could not help but feel his heart race whenever his gaze fell upon one of these colossi half-shrouded in shadow.

However, one of the greatest functions of the Twelve Golden Men was their ability to remotely link [Canghua] to the Lightning Pool Immortal Lotus, converting electrical energy into spiritual energy and generating a harmless, invisible wave to scan targets and determine whether they possessed life clusters.

At this point, Xiao Hongzhuan had already been promoted to a teaching wanderer under Immortal Lan Yi. His daily duties included assisting in calibrating the spiritual energy stability of Jinling Power Plant’s Lightning Pool Immortal Lotus, familiarizing himself with the idiot-proof operation of spiritual energy, and leading a group of disciples to systematically study Daoist knowledge in the laboratory.

They were called “disciples,” but in fact, this group was hardly composed of children. Men and women of all backgrounds stood among them, ranging from eight to forty years old. Their commonality lay in having a certain educational foundation and, most importantly, possessing life clusters.

Of course, those without life clusters could also become disciples, but only if they caught the eye of Immortal Lan Yi, who might then be willing to transplant a life cluster for them.

Outsiders called the laboratory a forbidden ground. Even as Lan Yi’s shadow, Zhao Sikong could not come and go at will in this place. Even a martial artist, should he accidentally trigger a restriction or a solidified Dao technique, would perish in an instant—no different than a fly struck by an electric swatter.

Such was the terror of Daoist techniques. Spiritual practitioners who had prepared the field and set their Daoist techniques enjoyed an overwhelming advantage over martial artists, at least until the latter reached the stage of refining the void. This environmental manipulation, the ability to shape the battlefield to their will, became ever more outrageous as practitioners advanced, until, upon reaching a semi-spiritual state, their contests unfolded as clashes of artificial divine realms.

Xiao Hongzhuan remained unaware of the rare fortune he had stumbled upon—the opportunity to observe the foundational modules of a top-tier spiritual practitioner. For now, he merely felt like a tour guide, leading obedient visitors through the laboratory’s wonders.

But if the rules were broken, those visitors would be reduced to charred refuse, swept out by martial artists.

“Form a line.”
“One at a time.”
“Each of you must stand before this Golden Man and wait for it to assess your aptitude.”
“Regardless of status, those with life clusters may remain. Those without will serve as outside assistants, if they choose—later, you can apply to assist martial artists in training Daoist techniques and thereby earn resources for further study.”
“Immortal Master is merciful, passing down the Daoist tradition. He asks nothing but loyalty.”
“Those who are disloyal—your souls will be drawn out and your spirits refined!”

Nervous and uncertain, the disciples, bathed in the white brilliance and Xiao Hongzhuan’s chanting, approached the formidable Golden Men with both hope and dread.

Even a two-meter-tall man seemed small before the Golden Men. When each disciple took their place, Xiao Hongzhuan formed a hand sign. The Primordial Breath, released with a fixed secret key, triggered the Golden Man’s biological neural cluster. Why choose Primordial Breath? The reason was simple: he could sense life clusters, but having not yet activated his own, he could not wield spiritual energy. Resorting to the Primordial Breath was the next best thing.

In any case, [Lantao] did not conflict with Primordial Breath.

A disciple had just found his footing when the Golden Man’s wrathful eyes flashed to life. Layer upon layer of nested halos condensed, and spiritual energy, using [Canghua] as its medium, streamed upward like countless ribbons of light, finally converging on the banner behind it, where it began to transform along a fixed path.

At last, the spiritual energy was released from the Golden Man’s eyes.

An invisible, colorless wave swept over the disciple in a heartbeat, then reflected back into the gem on the Golden Man’s forehead.

A buzzing sound!

The Golden Man’s eyes turned from white to blue.

The disciple burst into tears of joy.

Blue! He had a life cluster within him—he could cultivate the Dao! He could stay! This would change his fate, and that of his entire family!

Falling to his knees, the disciple kowtowed fervently to the Golden Man, voicing heartfelt gratitude to Immortal Lan Yi. Many onlookers watched with deep envy. Knowledge had given them a chance, but only a life cluster could determine whether they could seize that chance and become a recognized Daoist.

“Next!”

Xiao Hongzhuan gestured for a disciple who had passed the test to pull the ecstatic one away.

Before the Golden Men, all of life’s joys and sorrows played out.

Those whose eyes turned blue were delirious with happiness; those whose eyes turned red hung their heads in despair.

It was not uncommon for someone to faint outright, overcome by the extremes of joy or sorrow.

It was madness!

Xiao Hongzhuan sighed inwardly, but he deeply empathized. In this era, ordinary lives were worth less than straw. For someone like Lan Yi—not only terrifyingly powerful, but also willing to give ordinary people a chance, to grant hope to the battered riverine civilization of these times—such benevolence was truly the fortune of this artificial divine realm.

Now that his life was no longer at risk, Xiao Hongzhuan, once an ordinary person of the main world, hoped to do something meaningful.

And soon, that moment arrived.

A ripple of shadow stirred.

Zhao Sikong’s figure suddenly appeared to the side. He greeted Xiao Hongzhuan politely.

“Little Immortal Xiao, the Immortal Master has given an order.”

“Oh, don’t call me ‘Little Immortal,’ it’s embarrassing… Has the great Lan Yi given us a new task?” Xiao Hongzhuan protested, though his face broke into a wide grin.

Heh, being called an immortal is truly delightful.

“The Immortal Master asks you to gather the disciples.”

“For what?” Xiao Hongzhuan scratched his head.

“Look northwest—shoot the heavenly wolf.” The Shadow General’s smile was fervent.

“I don’t get it.”

“…There’s trouble up north. Preparations are being made to suppress the rebels.” Zhao Sikong tried hard to hide his disdain.