(Explosion! Vote seeking! Another update between 6 and 8 in the morning!) Feng Zikang let out a slight sigh and smiled, "Uncle-Master, rest assured. That senior, though advanced in years, still possesses a vigorous spirit. Times have changed, and her disposition has softened considerably compared to before."

It was all nonsense.

Although Elder Yun controlled the Merit Hall and knew that Feng Zikang had slain a child-eating demon in Hanshan Cave, he never could have imagined that this man-eating fiend was the same beautiful and fiery Miao border woman from three centuries ago.

The ideal outcome in his mind, naturally, was as Feng Zikang had suggested: silence, fading away into the world, which for everyone involved, might be the best possible resolution.

"That is good... that is very good..."

Elder Yun muttered to himself, finally laying one heavy matter to rest.

"But... did she not make any demands?"

He finally remembered that he had sent Feng Zikang to concede defeat. Since he had lost the wager, he was naturally obligated to fulfill the stake. At the time, he had promised to do anything the other party asked, and if a truly difficult request arose, it would be dreadful.

Feng Zikang chuckled wryly, surprised that this Uncle-Master’s primary worry was such a trivial matter.

"Ah!" He slapped his forehead as if a thought had just struck him. "That senior said that when you made the wager back then, she stipulated that if you lost, you had to grant her one request..."

"One thing that does not violate conscience or righteousness!" Elder Yun quickly corrected, filled with apprehension, his beard drooping listlessly.

"Yes, one thing that does not violate conscience or righteousness..." Feng Zikang gave a strange smile. "The senior's request is actually quite simple, and it certainly doesn't violate any conscience or righteousness—she demands that you marry her with a grand, scarlet sedan chair!"

"Absolutely not!" Elder Yun sprang up like a startled grasshopper, shaking his head frantically, his white beard and hair a mess.

"No, no, no! I practice the Art of Untouched Purity; marriage is strictly forbidden for me..."

He suddenly noticed Feng Zikang dissolving into laughter and realized the trick: "You wicked boy! Are you making an old man your entertainment?"

Feng Zikang burst into boisterous laughter and strode away.

"That senior made no demands at all, Uncle-Master, rest easy now?"

"No demands?"

Elder Yun settled down, momentarily stunned, a look of vague wistfulness crossing his aged face.

Feng Zikang's final stop today on Sunset Peak was the Hundred Weapons Workshop, one of the core institutions of the Military Path.

If the Merit Hall governed the promotion and cultivation of Military Path disciples, and the Scripture Hall governed the inheritance of mental arts and divine abilities, then the Hundred Weapons Workshop held the key to the combat prowess of the Military Path inheritors.

Artifact Forging!

With powerful magical equipment, two cultivators of equal rank would possess vastly different combat strengths; even if one's cultivation was slightly inferior, they could still turn the tide with potent magical artifacts.

The critical factor in Feng Zikang’s victories over Xiao Gao, Liang Si'an, and even Wuduyai, aside from the advantage of his Formless Celestial Demon technique, was the effect of the armor and magical artifacts he carried.

The Heart-Piercing Nails, the Star River Shuttle, the Soul Bone Sword, the Spirit Shaman Bone—accumulated and used skillfully, these items were enough to allow a disciple in the initial Qi Condensation stage to challenge masters at the peak of Qi Condensation or even the early Foundation Establishment stage.

The Hundred Weapons Workshop was the place where such things were created.

Provided one had sufficient forging materials and Merit Points, the Master Forgers within, whose skill reached the profound level of Black Grade Six, could certainly fashion anything one desired.

However, Feng Zikang had not come this time to forge magical implements; he lacked the complete materials and had few Merit Points remaining.

Consistent with the style of the Merit Hall and Scripture Hall, the so-called Hundred Weapons Workshop was merely a dilapidated smithy.

A middle-aged man, wearing a sleeveless brown vest that exposed his thick, corded biceps, held a massive hammer weighing several thousand catties aloft, rhythmically striking a crescent-shaped blade resting on the black anvil beneath him.

"Venerable Uncle..."

The presiding Elder of the Hundred Weapons Workshop was Hu Tiehan, General Lu's master. Rumor had it that this individual was currently the highest-cultivating Elder in Dragon Tiger Mountain, having already reached the peak of Core Formation and repeatedly failed in his attempts to advance to the Nascent Soul stage, currently deep in secluded cultivation. General Lu’s Crimson Blood Great Saber was a product of this Black Grade Six Forging Master.

It was certainly not Hu Tiehan himself working the forge by the entrance, but Feng Zikang did not recognize the man.

The middle-aged craftsman looked up, nodded at him, signaling for Feng Zikang to wait until he finished his current sequence. Feng Zikang was not impatient; he stood nearby, watching the forging intently.

"Clang! Clang-clang!"

The man swung the heavy hammer as if it were light as a feather, exerting no apparent effort. As the hammer struck the anvil, the force was released and withdrawn instantly. The weight and tempo of each blow varied, making it seem less like blacksmithing and more like playing a piece of music.

Feng Zikang was quite puzzled. Although he wasn't deeply versed in forging, he knew that for steel tempered a hundred times, the most crucial thing was even force, ensuring the material remained without gaps or flaws. Such an ostentatious hammering technique, while visually and audibly pleasing, would surely result in metal of inconsistent density and thickness, wouldn't it?

Yet, the great man worked in one fluid motion. Though the clangor was deafening, it was not grating; it sounded like celestial music.

It wasn't until noon, when a ray of sunlight caught the head of the hammer, that Feng Zikang saw sweat beading on the man's forehead. Having struck perhaps tens of thousands of times, the man drew a deep breath and brought down the final blow!

"Clang!"

As the impassioned rhythm concluded with a deafening rest, the crescent-shaped blade shockingly snapped into two pieces.

"Ahem!"

The man tossed the hammer aside, sighing loudly, clearly filled with regret.

He lifted the cloth vest to wipe his sweat and smiled apologetically at Feng Zikang. "You, boy, truly have patience, much more than your senior brothers. They always grow impatient during my daily ten thousand hammer Heart Tempering practice, disturbing my focus and ruining my efforts to refine my heart. They always anger me... You are excellent!"

Feng Zikang hadn't disturbed him. His ten thousand hammer heart tempering seemed to have failed regardless, suggesting that the other disciples weren't the primary reason for his failure. But people are accustomed to shifting blame, and this man was no exception. Getting angry at those disruptive disciples was their just desserts.

"Tell me, what do you wish to forge? Since I am in a good mood today, I shall strike it better for you, lad!"

Feng Zikang smiled. "May I ask your esteemed name, Uncle?"

"My surname is Qin, Qin Da Niu," the man grinned, a gesture that suited his rustic appearance, entirely unbefitting a cultivator. "Whose disciple are you? You are quite polite..."

"My master is Ye Tiansheng of the Small Bamboo Grove..."

"Ah!" Qin Da Niu nodded. "Brother Ye is a good man, and his disciple is not lacking either!"

He walked over cheerfully and clapped Feng Zikang on the shoulder. Feng Zikang felt a colossal force strike him, forcing him to secretly channel his profound technique, directing the immense energy into the earth to avoid internal injury.

Feng Zikang realized that nowadays, revealing his master’s name elicited nearly the same reaction everywhere; carrying Ye Tiansheng’s reputation made deceiving people a bit easier.

"Good, good!" Qin Da Niu clapped down again, satisfied to see Feng Zikang not even flinch. "This Old Ye's disciple has a sturdy body too, very good!"