Lu Yan walked toward the Molten Heart Tower at an unhurried pace, his mind completely occupied by thoughts of Jiang Ci.
He had stayed up the entire night devising plans. Even though his half-step Golden Core cultivation allowed him to withstand the sleepless night, his mind remained stretched tight as a bowstring.
Lately, the Northern Border had been incredibly restless. The Ice Spirits were rioting one after another, each wave fiercer than the last.
Many students had been temporarily deployed by the sect to the Great Wall of Formations to assist in defending the city, while others had simply taken leaves of absence to avoid danger. The number of people attending his formation classes in the Molten Heart Tower had visibly dwindled. Looking out, there were only a handful of students left, scattered sparsely about.
Lu Yan didn't feel like rushing through the curriculum either, so he simply assigned the remaining few students an in-depth research project on double-nested formations. This particular formation system involved multiple layers of spiritual energy circuits; without spending an entire month of quiet, dedicated focus, they wouldn't stand a chance of fully understanding it.
This worked out perfectly. For a long time to come, he would essentially be a hands-off manager, a truly idle person.
On ordinary days, he stayed in the Molten Heart Tower with very little to do. Occasionally, a student or two would bring their notes to ask about bottlenecks in their formations, and he would offer a few casual pointers. The rest of his abundant free time was spent entirely on meditation and cultivation.
Truth be told, even if he skipped work and didn't show up at the tower at all, no one would be able to find fault with him. Yet, he couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. Receiving a monthly salary from the sect while doing so little work made the money feel like a hot potato in his hands.
Even now, when his mind was entirely consumed with how to save Jiang Ci, this salary still weighed heavily on his conscience, making him feel ill at ease.
Walking up the winding stone stairs, he noticed that every floor of the Molten Heart Tower was thick with the scent of iron filings and waves of scorching heat. The higher he climbed, the hotter the temperature became.
Lu Yan took a deep breath of the rust-scented hot air and stopped a step before the floor he was responsible for—this was where Fu Feng usually stayed, his exclusive workshop.
Inside the workshop, the relentless clanging of iron forging never stopped. A hammer struck hard against a red-hot billet of black iron, producing a continuous series of crisp, ringing blows that caused the surrounding stone walls to vibrate slightly.
Lu Yan did not rashly push open the door to disturb him. Instead, he stood quietly outside, waiting patiently for this round of forging to conclude. After standing there for an unknown amount of time, the clanging inside finally came to an abrupt halt. He composed himself, raised his hand, and knocked gently on the heavy iron door.
“Just a moment... Alright, come in,” Fu Feng's slightly gravelly voice called out from behind the door.
Lu Yan pushed the door open and stepped inside. A scorching wave of heat carrying steam instantly rushed over him, the high temperature making his cheeks burn slightly.
Looking up, he saw Fu Feng standing by the forging table, bare-chested. From his neck down, his skin was a deeply hammered bronze, with well-defined, sturdy muscles. His entire body was taut and powerful, covered in burn scars of various sizes and depths—marks left by years of dealing with intense fire and hot metal.
Beads of sweat rolled down his firm musculature. His entire being exuded a fierce, overwhelming sense of power, making him look exactly like a humanoid beast crouching beside a furnace.
Yet, his skin from the neck up was suddenly much lighter—it was the masked face that Fu Feng always wore.
Lu Yan immediately realized that when the other man had asked him to wait a moment, it was likely to hurriedly put on his mask, not wanting to reveal his true face.
His gaze drifted to Fu Feng's face for a moment, and his first impression was weariness. The deep exhaustion in his eyes was impossible to hide, and the dark circles beneath them were exceptionally striking, clearly indicating that this man had not been able to take a proper breath of rest in a long time.
Although cultivators did not need to sleep daily like mortals, keeping one's mind tense for a long time and enduring continuous high-intensity labor would still overdraw their foundation and drain their spirit. Fu Feng's current state was clearly one of being overloaded for a long time.
Lu Yan had secretly wondered about this before. Fu Feng's mask fit very snugly, but it didn't seem to serve much of a disguise. It felt more like it was simply used to present a different face to talk to others.
However, he had never pried into the reasons behind it. Everyone harbored pasts and scars they were unwilling to mention. Having too much curiosity would only invite unnecessary trouble. Keeping one's mouth shut and reigning in excess curiosity was what a smart person should do.
But since he was here to ask for a favor today, exchanging a few pleasantries to close the distance was definitely the right move. “Why do you look so pale? It looks like you've been pushing yourself way too hard.”
Fu Feng casually tossed the heavy hammer beside the forging table, the metal striking the stone surface with a dull thud. His tone carried a hint of helpless exhaustion.
“The Ice Spirits in the north have gone completely mad lately, charging at the Great Wall of Formations wave after wave. The weapons and equipment damaged at the front lines have piled up like mountains, and the casualties among the disciples are rising rapidly. The old man kept making indirect hints, trying to get me to shut down the Molten Heart Tower entirely to focus on supporting the front lines. Fortunately, he set off for the border to oversee things himself a few days ago, so I've finally had a bit of peace these past couple of days.”
He let out a long sigh, his fingertips brushing against the cold black iron billet beside him. Guarding the furnace day after day to forge iron, striking hammer blow after hammer blow, endlessly repeating the same process.
It wasn't that he hated forging iron deep down; in his youth, he had indeed been obsessed with the Dao of forging. But when passion completely turned into a daily, mechanically repetitive chore, even the things one loved would gradually lose their initial appeal.
But even if he occasionally felt bored and frustrated, he wouldn't utter a single complaint. The Molten Heart Tower was rooted within the sect, and it was only natural to contribute during times of crisis. Doing things for one's own sect was only right and proper.
After a brief moment of sentiment, Fu Feng looked up at Lu Yan, his eyes bright and his mind clear. He got straight to the point: “Alright, stop beating around the bush. You came all the way to find me today—what is it?” They were both adults; who wouldn't understand the concept of not visiting unless there was a reason?
Taking the cue, Lu Yan followed up, his tone carrying a hint of testing: “I wanted to ask, are you familiar with the lecturer for Applied Soul Studies? I have an urgent matter on my end, and I want to ask him for guidance on some related secret arts.”
Fu Feng's brow instantly furrowed, and he shook his head to deliver the bad news: “Elder Liu of Applied Soul Studies? He went to the front lines with the support team a few days ago, and it'll be at least half a month before he returns. What urgent matter do you have with him anyway?”
Lu Yan's heart sank slightly. He hadn't expected his first backup plan to hit a wall the moment he opened his mouth.
The third fallback plan he had envisioned last night was to rely on Elder Liu's secret arts to extract and seal her soul. But now that the man wasn't in the sect, this path was temporarily blocked.
He quietly took a deep breath to suppress the panic in his chest, constantly comforting himself that it was fine. Soul preservation was only a worst-case backup plan; even if it was blocked, there was still the alternative plan—the mechanical heart.
Instead of dwelling on Elder Liu's departure, he reached into his sleeve and took out a pre-drawn scroll, slowly spreading it out beside the forging table. Drawn in detail on the scroll was the complete structure of a mechanical heart. It wasn't overly intricate, but one could tell at a glance what it was.
Fu Feng looked down, his pupils contracting slightly. His voice carried a trace of astonishment: “Is this... a heart?”
“Yes.”
“A heart.”
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