Zhi Xuan did not answer immediately. He walked toward a small window at the back of the shop that overlooked the mountains above the Qinglong Steps. In the distance, the peaks were shrouded in a thin mist, where sects hid their grandeur from mortal eyes.

  "I require nothing, Old Man Dun," Zhi Xuan said, his voice sounding like the friction of cold silk. "I do not lack artifacts, nor do I lack spiritual stones. However, I need a beautiful storage box in the shape of a snow lotus."

  Old Man Dun furrowed his brow, his rough fingers stroking his chin covered in a thin, whitening beard. The request sounded incredibly simple for a practitioner of Zhi Xuan's level, but in the cultivation world, beauty was often a facade for deadly functionality.

  "A storage box in the shape of a snow lotus?" Old Man Dun muttered. He turned and stepped toward a pile of chests in the darkest corner of his shop, a place filled with cobwebs and the aura of antiques untouched for decades.

  Zhi Xuan remained standing by the window, hands behind his back, staring at the moon now hanging high above Green Cloud Peak. His mind drifted to the image of Zhu Qinglan. The snow lotus was a symbol of her icy exterior and the inner softness he always associated with her—a figure blooming in the midst of an eternal blizzard without losing her elegance.

  "Ahem!" Old Man Dun cleared his throat loudly, breaking Zhi Xuan’s inner silence. The old man returned with a small box wrapped in a very worn black velvet cloth.

  When the cloth was pulled back, a soft bluish-white glow emerged, illuminating Old Man Dun’s wrinkled face. In the palm of his hand lay a box carved from thousand-year ice jade. Its shape was that of a lotus bud not yet fully bloomed, with petals that appeared transparent and jade veins resembling the vessels of life.

  "This is the Bloom of a Thousand Lotuses," Old Man Dun whispered. "I didn't make it. This was an item left by a female practitioner from afar who ran out of spiritual stones decades ago."

  Zhi Xuan turned and approached. As he came within a three-step radius, the jade petals on the box vibrated faintly, as if recognizing the chill brought by the Weaver. Zhi Xuan reached out his hand, and the box floated of its own accord into his palm, feeling cold yet tranquil.

  "Perfect," Zhi Xuan said shortly.

  "You wish to store something very precious inside it, don't you?" Old Man Dun looked at him inquisitively. "Seeing the way you look at this box, I guess it’s not for yourself."

  Zhi Xuan did not answer verbally. He moved his fingers over the lotus bud, and instantly the petals bloomed with the sound of a very fine crystal chime, revealing a hollow space inside protected by a seal. However, Zhi Xuan froze for a moment, as if confused about what he would do next.

  "Old Man Dun," Zhi Xuan called again, turning his gaze back toward the old man. "Do you have some kind of..."

  Zhi Xuan furrowed his brow; he didn't quite know how to voice it. What he wanted was something like a gemstone, but he didn't know the proper term for it. All he knew was that he wanted something he could use to forge a Bu Yao, which would sway beautifully like grass in the wind if the wearer took a step.

  He slowly moved his hand, his fingertips trembling slightly as his spiritual energy formed a weave, projecting the image of an exquisite Bu Yao. "Some kind of stone that can end up like this."

  Old Man Dun squinted his eyes, staring at the projection of spiritual energy formed by Zhi Xuan. The monster he had just called a shaker of the heavens now looked like a young man stricken by deep inner doubt. The sapphire blue light in Zhi Xuan’s eyes wavered slightly, reflecting an uncertainty that would never be found on a battlefield.

  "A Bu Yao..." Old Man Dun murmured, his voice softening. He no longer saw a grand practitioner, but a man trying to weave his feelings into a mortal form. "You want to create a hair ornament capable of holding your will, don't you?"

  Zhi Xuan nodded slowly. "I want something that will not fade with time, yet is light enough to adorn her hair without weighing down her head. Something that... when she steps, will emit a sound like raindrops falling on lotus leaves."

  Old Man Dun fell silent for quite a while, then he turned toward a small shelf hidden behind a secret wooden wall. He took out a black sandalwood box covered by an aura-suppressing seal. When the box was opened, a sharp yet very pure cold aroma filled the entire shop, even causing the swords on the surrounding racks to buzz faintly.

  Inside the sandalwood box lay three irregularly shaped crystals, pale blue but clear as the frozen tears of a goddess. The objects emitted a pulsing light, in rhythm with the hidden heartbeat of the world.

  "These are the Tears of Xiangu," Old Man Dun said, his voice almost a whisper of worship. "I acquired them at an auction when I was young. These crystals are said to be the tears of a goddess that fell back then, though that is merely a legend since these crystals only form beneath Mount Xiangu."

  "Xiangu," Old Man Dun continued, waving his hand as the sandalwood box floated toward Zhi Xuan. "The legend tells of a goddess full of compassion and a tranquility that soothes the universe. If these tears are truly her cries, then those cries mean life for all creatures."

  Zhi Xuan received the sandalwood box with an extremely reverent motion. As his fingers touched the surface of the Tears of Xiangu, a subtle vibration traveled through his meridians. The crystal did not reject his presence; instead, it seemed as if it had waited for thousands of autumns to be touched by someone with a will as strong as steel yet as deep as the ocean.

  "Compassion and tranquility," Zhi Xuan murmured, repeating Old Man Dun’s words. His sapphire eyes reflected the pale blue glow of the crystal. "This world is often too noisy and full of bloodlust. I hope this can give her a bit of peace when I am not by her side."

  He closed the lotus box and the sandalwood box, floating both items into his storage bag. "How much do you ask for these two items, Old Man?"

  Old Man Dun laughed hoarsely, a dry laugh full of life’s wisdom. He waved his cracked hand as if Zhi Xuan’s question were a nuisance.

  "What is the price for those two items, Brat?" Old Man Dun walked back to his chair, slowly seating his aged body. "Back then you came as someone still fragile, but now you return as someone who has woven the heavens. The chance to see a youth like you grow into a little monster is something I won't regret in a hundred reincarnations."

  "Just keep your spiritual stones," Old Man Dun added, his eyes fixed on the shop's ceiling, blackened by oil lamp soot. "Consider this an investment from an old blacksmith. If one day you truly shake the pillars of heaven, remember that there was a small shop in Green Cloud City that once gave you your first sword."

  Zhi Xuan fell silent; the stillness inside the shop felt heavy. He clasped both hands in front of his chest and bowed slightly deeper than usual—a mark of respect from a Weaver to one with sharp inner vision. When he rose, a fragrant bottle of wine was left on Old Man Dun’s table.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  "A jug of wine; like life emerging, death waiting," Zhi Xuan said. He turned slowly and walked toward the exit of the weapon shop. "The mountains are still green, the rivers will not recede. May we meet again someday, Old Man Dun."

  Zhi Xuan’s footsteps brought him back into the embrace of Green Cloud City’s cold air. The jingle of wind chimes in the distance welcomed his figure, now standing at a quiet crossroads. He faded into a shadow and reappeared near a mountain slope a few li away from the formation altar he had used previously.

  Zhi Xuan stood atop a jutting cliff where the mountain wind roared louder, sweeping his black-and-white robes until they billowed like majestic raven wings. Below, the flickering lights of Green Cloud City looked like a swarm of fireflies trapped in a valley, but his eyes were no longer on that mortal festivity.

  He sat cross-legged on a flat rock eroded by thousands of years of weather. With one wave of his hand, he brought out the black sandalwood box and the ice jade lotus box he had just obtained. Around him, he spread a thin but impenetrable isolation formation; it was as if the space on the clifftop were separated from the real world.

  WHIRL! DING!

  He flicked his hand, and the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron emerged, accompanied by two lights—rainbow and gold. Xiao Die and Ao Sheng appeared together, standing before Zhi Xuan with a soothing glow. The two little ones looked around, and the air surrounding them seemed to be what they recognized.

  "Senior! We have returned?" Xiao Die exclaimed softly, her voice like the chime of a silver bell breaking the silence of the clifftop. Her transparent wings fluttered gently, leaving a trail of rainbow light dust that was immediately caught by the mountain wind.

  Ao Sheng, with his gold scales glistening under the moonlight, only gave a small snort, though his eyes radiated suppressed joy. "This aura... the scent is different from Yao Gu. This is the Xing Luo Plain; we have returned here."

  Zhi Xuan only responded with a faint nod. He flicked his finger, and immediately the Law of Summer within the Divine Cauldron crackled. Purple flames from the Law of Summer flared inside the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron, refracting the moonlight into dancing purple shadows on the cliff walls.

  "Senior," Ao Sheng whispered, his golden eyes fixed on the Divine Cauldron. "Are you going to make something for Senior Sister Zhu?"

  "Of course that's right, Big Brother Golden Dragon," Xiao Die chimed in, placing her hands on her hips and tilting her chin up. "Back then, Senior was given the Snow Phoenix Jade by Senior Aunt Zhu; now Senior must give something similar in return."

  Ao Sheng nodded slowly, though his brow was still furrowed. "I understand."

  Zhi Xuan did not respond to the chatter of the two creatures. His focus had merged with the tongues of purple fire licking inside the cauldron. With a graceful wave of his hand, he brought out the Tears of Xiangu from its sandalwood box. The pale blue crystals floated in the air, rotating slowly to the rhythm of Zhi Xuan’s now steady and deep breathing.

  "Bu Yao," Zhi Xuan murmured, slowly launching the three blue crystals toward the Divine Cauldron. "Purify!"

  The purple flames of the Law of Summer surged instantly, swallowing the three beads of Tears of Xiangu into the belly of the glowing cauldron. The roar of the fire did not sound harsh but rhythmic, like the murmur of an ancient prayer. Under the control of Zhi Xuan’s mind—sharp as a sword's edge—the crystals did not melt into crude liquid but dissolved into clusters of extremely pure blue light essence, refusing to yield to the heat of the fire.

  He closed his eyes, letting his consciousness enter the cauldron. There, he did not see fire as a destroyer, but as a weaver. Strands of silver energy from his Heavenly Samsara Wheel snaked out, entwining the essence of the Tears of Xiangu, forming a delicate weave thinner than a single strand of an angel's hair.

  Xiao Die and Ao Sheng fell silent, their breath held at the sight. The air at the clifftop suddenly became very dense. Ice flowers began to creep across the surface of the rock where Zhi Xuan sat, despite the cauldron before him radiating heat capable of melting steel. This was the Law of Summer controlled by a Weaver; heat that burned the flesh, yet cold that froze the soul.

  He moved his hands—easily crushing several trees around him. He pressed his palms together, and immediately the large trunks bent soundlessly and entered the Divine Cauldron, forming the slender stem that would be the foundation of the Bu Yao. The stem twisted inside the cauldron, forming a motif of snow-covered pine branches, symbolizing an unshakable inner fortitude.

  Every motion of Zhi Xuan’s fingers in the air was a dance of creation. He pulled the purified essence of the Tears of Xiangu, shaping it into tiny droplets that dangled from an incredibly fine silver chain. Each crystal droplet was carved by his inner will, shaped in such a way that it had micro-cavities inside—a structure designed to catch even the smallest airflow.

  Zhi Xuan injected a speck of essence from his Law of Winter into the core of the crystals, creating a circulation of energy that would keep the jewelry cool even under the hottest scorching sun. Inside the cauldron, the wooden stem from the ancient pine tree—compacted until it was as hard as heavenly metal—began to merge with the silver weave and the droplets of the Tears of Xiangu.

  Zhi Xuan imagined every step of Zhu Qinglan—the elegance of her movements when drawing her sword, down to her soft exhale while meditating under the snow. The air at the clifftop shook violently. Thunder without clouds roared in the sky, as if the heavens themselves were jealous to see a mortal object being elevated to an item with a soul.

  The purple light from the cauldron slowly faded, replaced by a silver-white glow that dazzled the eyes. Zhi Xuan opened his sapphire eyes, radiating an authority capable of subduing a thousand mountains. He took a deep breath, and with one smooth hand motion, an object slowly floated out from the belly of the cauldron, hovering calmly above his open palm.

  A Bu Yao of extraordinary beauty was born, one that would make the gods and goddesses of the Nine Heavens envious. The stem was slender, made from the essence of pine wood compacted by the fires of law until it was a glossy black like the night, contrasting with the fine silver carvings wrapped around it like frozen snow on a branch.

  At the end of the stem, three silver chains thinner than silk dangled, holding the Tears of Xiangu crystals, now shaped into perfect water droplets. When caught by the strong mountain wind, the crystal droplets did not sway harshly but swung with a steady rhythm, emitting an incredibly clear clink-clink sound—like the sound of a water harp played by a fairy over an ice lake.

  "So beautiful," Xiao Die whispered, her eyes unblinking as she looked at the Bu Yao. "Xiao Die has no other words, other than it is simply beautiful."

  Ao Sheng was speechless; the golden dragon felt that the Bu Yao in Zhi Xuan’s hand was no longer just jewelry, but an artifact carrying a spark of living natural law. Its chiming sound did not just greet the ears but vibrated the depths of the soul, providing a tranquility capable of extinguishing even the most burning fires of rage.

  Zhi Xuan gazed at his handiwork with a deep look. He did not feel the pride of a grand smith, but the relief of a wanderer who had prepared the best provision for someone he cherished. With a very careful motion, he placed the Bu Yao into the ice lotus jade box he had received from Old Man Dun. As soon as the Bu Yao touched the bottom of the box, the jade lotus bud closed slowly, sealing all the aroma of essence and its heavenly sound within the embrace of the cold jade.

  "The task here is finished," Zhi Xuan said quietly. He waved his hand, pulling the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron back into his sea of consciousness.

  Xiao Die flew in circles around Zhi Xuan, her rainbow wings glowing cheerfully. "So, Senior, are we heading to the Imperial City soon? Xiao Die can’t wait to meet Senior Sister Zhu!"

  Zhi Xuan looked up, staring far toward the Central Continent, where beneath a willow tree on a bench, they had once parted. "Yes, Xiao Die."

  The mountain wind roared louder, as if the universe itself were making way for the wanderer’s departure. Zhi Xuan stood tall, his robes dancing in the rhythm of the silent storm. He turned briefly toward the east, toward where Green Cloud City still slumbered in the embrace of lantern light, but his heart was already thousands of li away, crossing great rivers and ancient fortresses toward the heart of the Central Continent.

  "Ao Sheng, Xiao Die, return," Zhi Xuan commanded.

  The two entities bowed obediently. Xiao Die’s tiny body faded into a rainbow glow, while the golden dragon Ao Sheng shrank into a streak of golden light that shot into Zhi Xuan’s sea of consciousness. Now, silence once again reigned at the clifftop, leaving only Zhi Xuan and the lotus box stored safely in his storage bag.

  He walked without energy ripples, ascending the slope as if it were no obstacle. His dark purple hair fluttered gently, reflecting the beautiful moonlight as he walked toward the formation altar. The ancient formation altar was located in a hidden alcove surrounded by sharp natural rock formations, as if the fangs of the earth were protecting the secrets buried within.

  He stood in the center of the formation altar, brought out several high-grade spiritual stones, and arranged them with the precision only a high-level formation master possessed. Silver light began to creep from the center of the altar, following small trenches carved into the stone, awakening the ancient consciousness of the teleportation array. Instantly, a bright light shot into the sky, and in the blink of an eye, his figure vanished, leaving the clifftop silent once more.