Chuxue watched, utterly bewildered, clutching the wooden trays and gazing with confusion at the departing figure of the mortal man.

“How strange! Why would they go to such lengths to deliver these things to us? Could that Yuanbing Zhai actually be owned by the City Lord of Yun Sheng?” Zong Shou merely gave a low chuckle and offered no reply.

He picked up a Cloud-Patterned Flying Dagger, turning it over in his hand.

The material of this blade was in no way inferior to the Ray Fang Sword.

It was inscribed with cloud-patterned talismans, and with a slight exertion of will, it could conjure a mist of water.

Its capacity to hold the sword intent of the Cloud-Shaking Divine Destruction was vastly superior to the willow-leaf flying knives he had previously used.

Yet, it remained as thin as a cicada’s wing, appearing even more wickedly sharp.

However, at this moment, Zong Shou’s focus was not on the dagger in his hand; instead, his gaze was fixed coldly on a certain pavilion across the street, not far away.

That was the City Lord’s Residence, its five-zhang-high stone walls completely isolating the sprawling courtyard within from the outside world.

To the right stood a towering structure, rising above the curtain of the stone wall.

Gazing from this distance of a thousand zhang, one could faintly discern two figures upon it.

“Why else? Since they delivered these items I stipulated, naturally, they want us to leave quickly!” Chuxue gasped, her face a mask of confusion.

The man moments before had explicitly told them to stay for a few more days.

But the man’s demeanor toward them was indeed akin to treating them like walking plagues, making one deeply uncomfortable.

Yin Yang also wore a grim expression, his countenance exceptionally unpleasant.

Zong Shou, however, narrowed his eyes, a half-smile playing on his lips.

“Yun Sheng City boasts superior scenery and has always been peaceful and uneventful, making it an excellent locale for leisure and sightseeing.” This meant nothing more than that they wished not to be entangled in the current turmoil.

Should any misfortune arise, the place would cease to be peaceful and uneventful.

No matter how beautiful the scenery, no one would come to enjoy it then.

He was philosophical enough to understand the City Lord of Yun Sheng’s dilemma; in his place, he would likely handle matters similarly.

It was just that a slight discomfort lingered in his heart.

Not even granting an audience, rushing them to depart felt a bit excessive.

With a self-deprecating smile, Zong Shou turned away from the pavilion and walked back inside the gate.

In truth, he didn't need the City Lord’s reminder; he was already prepared to leave, merely two days earlier than planned.

Obtaining these Cloud-Patterned Flying Daggers and the exoskeleton components sooner was also a good thing.

He reflected again: these peaceful and comfortable days, as expected, could not last long.

Even finding a quiet place to settle seemed unattainable.

To survive in this world, ultimately, one could not rely on others.

Only one’s own strength—the swordsmanship and mental techniques—was the foundation of one’s standing.

No slackening permitted—xxxx “Lian Cheng, is that the Crown Prince of Qiantian Mountain?” On a five-story building a thousand zhang away, an elderly man in fine brocade robes leaned on the railing, gazing out.

This man’s face resembled a ripe jujube, his expression placid.

The muscles of his right arm were knotted, but his left arm was withered like dry wood.

A glint of curiosity flickered in his slightly withered eyes.

From this vantage point, he could clearly see the slender youth on the street opposite the stone wall.

“His intuition for sensing us is quite sharp! Not like someone unversed in martial arts?” “This Crown Prince is indeed peculiar! However, I had men observe him continuously for several days, yet detected no sign of him practicing martial arts, nor did he seem to have cultivated his Soul Essence.

If one has achieved success in martial arts or mental techniques, there are always subtle clues to be found.

But as Master just witnessed, this person emits not a trace of a warrior’s aura, nor is any soul thought overflowing externally.” The voice came from behind the elderly man in brocade robes.

A middle-aged man, whose face was a mass of wrinkles resembling a steward, stood with hands respectfully lowered.

Clad in a black robe, he showed nothing extraordinary, but when he occasionally looked up, his eyes were as sharp as an eagle’s.

The elder frowned.

“Although that is so, I still feel an unease now.

Lord Lei Dong gave instructions that we should do our utmost to look after him and forge a strong connection.

Instead, not only did I fail to follow his wishes, but I am driving him away.” The steward named Lian Cheng’s expression shifted, tinged with helplessness.

“This action is not Master’s desire; it is simply due to pressure from various parties, leaving us no choice.” Lord Lei Dong has always acted according to his whims.

After giving subordinates instructions regarding this matter, he deliberately remained absent for a long time, which is truly perplexing.

In my view, perhaps Lord Lei Dong has long forgotten about it.

This person is caught in a vortex, involving the maneuvering of the Eastern Lin Sects, and is rumored to have connections with the Eight-Tailed Patriarch Sect of the Celestial Fox Clan.

This is genuinely beyond the scope of our Yun Sheng City to interfere with.

A cripple with a dual-meridian body is hardly worth our city incurring too much liability and clashing with those few factions.

Sending him away is the best course of action!” The elder hesitated, unable to decide.

After a moment, he finally sighed.

“Then we must apologize to the Lord.

However, before this person leaves, I still wish to meet him and bid him farewell.

I do not wish to become entangled with him, yet I do not wish to become enemies over this.

There must be a reason Lord Lei Dong thinks highly of this person.

Prepare some gifts later; bring them along…” Lian Cheng started in surprise, quickly looking up, only to see the elder’s face had calmed.

His tone and demeanor clearly allowed for no argument.

He had no choice but to suppress his words and cease persuading.

“Lian Cheng obeys! I will arrange it immediately.

Just, the standard for these gifts…” The elder fell into deep contemplation, offering no reply.

Lian Cheng immediately bowed slightly and retreated downstairs.

He understood his old master’s intention: nothing overly precious was needed, something moderate would suffice.

xxxx Back in the courtyard, Chuxue had already calmed down.

Although she had been filled with indignation earlier, now, thinking it over, this was, after all, someone else’s territory.

They had stayed here safely for over ten days without incident; what more could they ask for? It was impossible for someone to shield them from all storms forever.

Yin Yang felt similarly, but he was even calmer, having apparently anticipated some of this beforehand.

“I heard the City Lord of Yun Sheng, Xu Zhengyuan, was once a formidable figure in his early years, with a fiery temperament and ruthless execution.

He reached the Martial Ancestor realm by thirty-five and almost unified the three thousand li surrounding Yun Sheng City.

However, he was injured later, the wound proving incurable, and since then, he has curbed his nature, acting indecisively and wishy-washy, always seeking to appease others and never making enemies.

For decades, it has been thus.

His influence has steadily declined, and it is rumored that several times, when cornered, he dared not fight back, relying entirely on his connections with those hidden sects to barely maintain the city.

Looking at him now, he has become even more incompetent.” Zong Shou was slightly surprised; he hadn't expected the City Lord of Yun Sheng to have had such a glorious past.

A domain spanning four thousand li covered several provinces.

As for the latter part of Yin Yang’s comments, Zong Shou was somewhat dismissive.

How could the nature of a lion be easily suppressed? Xu Zhengyuan’s actions were likely born of necessity.

However, this man’s affairs were none of his concern.

Furthermore, it was late today, so any departure would have to wait until tomorrow.

Re-entering his room, he couldn't resist glancing sideways at the hole in the wall.

The opening was not blocked, and the situation in the adjacent room was still faintly visible.

Zong Shou quickly turned his head away.

“She doesn’t seem to be here? Did she leave through the back door?” After only a moment of doubt, Zong Shou paid it no further mind and began assembling the parts.

The previous Wind Strider Spirit Bone only covered the legs.

The set he commissioned now included the upper arms as well.

Also crafted from Third-Grade Cloud Whale Bone, the material differed somewhat.

One was taken from the ribs, and the other from the wings used to support the Cloud Whale’s entire weight while flying.

In terms of toughness alone, it was at least three times stronger.

It was also inscribed with numerous lightning patterns, and the arms and joints were made of metal, flashing with an icy cold sheen, making this exoskeleton even more sturdy.

The hands were similar, resembling claw-blades; the five fingers could fit inside them.

Each finger-blade was as sharp and hard as Ray Fang.

The externally inlaid talismans were made of a material called Blood Spirit Copper, embedded into the bone, making the markings highly resistant to damage and difficult to repair.

Zong Shou spent half an hour assembling one suit.

Upon donning it, he faintly felt this exoskeleton resonating subtly with the Thunder Luan Talisman Array on his skin.

He suddenly thrust out a punch, completely crushing the only remaining sandalwood chair in his room.

Zong Shou’s eyes immediately brightened as he began calculating his strength.

“About nine thousand five hundred jin! My own strength is around three thousand six hundred jin.

This exoskeleton provides a full five thousand nine hundred jin of power, nearly reaching the ten thousand jin strength of a Nine-Meridian Secret Martial Master!” Zong Shou was secretly amazed.

The new exoskeleton he assembled was named Thunder Strider.

Unlike the Wind Strider, which was propelled by wind force, the Thunder Strider relied entirely on electrical energy for movement.

Both possessed swiftness, but in this regard, the Thunder Strider Spirit Bone was far superior to the Wind Strider, potentially even surpassing the Cloud-Treading Steed.

Its combat capability was also significant.

Not only were the five-fingered claw-blades useful, but both the left and right upper arms also contained a space for storing swords.

Furthermore, if his Soul Force was sufficient, he could even unleash lightning to injure opponents.

However, in his previous life, this Thunder Strider Spirit Bone could, at most, provide five thousand jin of power.

“Most likely, the Cloud Whale Bone of this era was not domestically raised; wild specimens are naturally tougher!” Zong Shou, filled with excitement, suddenly began moving swiftly within the room, testing his fist techniques relying on this bone structure.

It was neither the Fetal Breath Spirit Spring nor the Lesser Five Wheels Bright King Fist, but rather techniques that revealed sharp edges—ten sword claws stirring up waves of cold light.

Swift as a tiger, ferocious as a cat.

After only a moment, Zong Shou’s interest waned.

“This exoskeleton is powerful, no doubt, but the fist techniques executed while wearing it cannot be as naturally fluid as when using the human body.

If I were to fight in it, my combat strength would actually decrease by two levels.

No wonder that in my past life, aside from the top-tier exoskeletons custom-crafted by Artifact Refiners, all other experts treated them with contempt.” He observed his inner body again, finding that after half a day of practicing a set of sword forms and a set of fist techniques, the essence of the dissolved Thunder Luan Egg had been absorbed in very small quantities by the flesh and skin.

To advance further would require several more months at least.

Shaking his head slightly, Zong Shou sat cross-legged on his bed again, taking out a Cloud-Patterned Flying Dagger and placing it in his palm.

With a slight exertion of force from his right hand, the cherished dagger rose with a soft teng, hovering half an inch above Zong Shou’s palm as if it were a spiritual artifact.