The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through, Elder Wei was already standing at the door of the Pavilion of Ten Thousand Tomes, waiting.
The old man was somewhat different today. He no longer wore his coarse gray clothes, but instead donned a dark azure long robe; though lacking intricate patterns, its tailoring was exquisite. His silvery-white hair was neatly tied up with a white jade hairpin. He no longer resembled an old library caretaker, but rather a reclusive great scholar preparing to wander the mountains and rivers.
Tran Kien stepped down from the second floor. Three months immersed in cultivation and the sea of history had completely transformed him. His formerly scrawny frame had become well-proportioned and sturdy. His gaze no longer held its youthful naivety and wariness; instead, it contained the profound depth of knowledge and the sharpness of one who had experienced life and death. Wearing a simple indigo cloth outfit with a long saber strapped to his back, he looked incredibly clean-cut and formidable.
"Are you ready?" Elder Wei asked, his clear eyes sweeping over him from head to toe, flashing with a hint of satisfaction.
"Elder Wei, I am ready."
"Good," Elder Wei nodded. "Then let us depart." He did not lock the door. With a mere flick of his sleeve, the heavy ebony doors closed on their own. An invisible aura spread outward, seemingly isolating the pavilion entirely from the outside world.
The two of them, one old and one young, strolled leisurely through the quiet alleyway.
"Elder Wei," Tran Kien couldn't help but ask, "what exactly... is this debt we are collecting? And from whom?"
"A debt of history," Elder Wei replied, his voice calm yet harboring an icy chill. "A century ago, the Divine Weapon Pavilion, one of the greatest artifact forging powers in Azure Province, 'borrowed' an item from one of the last descendants of the Lac Viet. That item rightfully belongs to the legacy of your ancestors."
"The Divine Weapon Pavilion?" Tran Kien was astonished. He had read about this faction. They were not a cultivation sect, but an organization specializing in the forging and trading of magical artifacts, maintaining business ties with almost all the major sects, including the Azure Cloud Sect and the Black Dragon Stronghold.
"Then what is that item?"
"A fragment of metal," Elder Wei answered. "A metal fragment unearthed from an ancient tomb, engraved with a portion of an array diagram. That Lac Viet descendant, ignorant of its true value, brought it to the Divine Weapon Pavilion for appraisal. The Pavilion Master at the time, Lu Nhat Thiet, was an incredibly shrewd and cunning man. Recognizing the array's extraordinary nature, he deceived the descendant, claiming it was nothing but a piece of scrap copper, and 'bought' it for a paltry sum. When that descendant later realized he had been swindled, he died of sheer indignation."
Tran Kien's heart tightened. He could almost feel the resentment of his predecessor.
"Today," Elder Wei continued, his gaze turning sharp, "we do not go there to buy it back with wealth. We go to take back what is rightfully ours."
"But... the Divine Weapon Pavilion is a formidable power, and there are only the two of us..." Tran Kien was slightly worried.
"Who said we were going to force our way in?" Elder Wei chuckled, a smile full of tactical depth. "Today is the day the Divine Weapon Pavilion hosts its annual 'Treasure Auction Assembly'. They will bring out their finest magical artifacts to be auctioned. Lu Nhat Thiet, the current Pavilion Master and the grandson of the swindler from a century ago, is an incredibly arrogant man who thirsts for fame. He certainly will not miss a chance to flaunt his power."
"And our debt," the old man said, "happens to be the 'treasure' he takes the most pride in."
Dawn broke in Tran Kien's mind. He understood Elder Wei's plan. There was no need to storm in and pillage; Elder Wei intended to take the item back openly and righteously, right in front of all the powers of Azure Province. This wasn't just collecting a debt; it was a heaven-shaking slap to the face of the Divine Weapon Pavilion.
They left the quiet southern district and headed toward the center of the city. The Divine Weapon Pavilion was situated on one of the most bustling streets. It was a majestic five-story building constructed entirely of white granite, its eaves exquisitely carved with images of hammers and forges. A bustling crowd flowed in and out of the entrance. Flanking the doors stood eight towering guards clad in gleaming black iron armor, their emanating auras indicating they had all reached the mid-Qi Guiding Realm.
Elder Wei and Tran Kien, one old and one young, dressed in simple attire, blended into the crowd. They did not take the main entrance but circled around to a small adjacent alley where a side entrance was located. A broad-faced steward, seeing their ordinary clothes, immediately stepped out to block their path, speaking in an overbearing tone, "The Treasure Auction Assembly is not a place just anyone can enter. If you don't have an invitation, scram!"
Elder Wei said nothing. He quietly pulled an item from his sleeve and placed it on the table. It was a rusted bronze coin, looking utterly ordinary.
The steward saw the coin and was about to fly into a rage, but suddenly, his pupils shrank. He rubbed his eyes and looked closer. Upon that rusted coin was engraved a minuscule ancient seal character: "Wei".
The steward's face instantly turned deathly pale. His arrogance vanished, replaced by sheer, absolute terror. Trembling, he hurriedly bowed his head, his voice on the verge of tears. "This lowly one had eyes but failed to recognize Mount Tai! Please... please forgive my offense, Elder Wei! Please... please enter! I will immediately arrange the best seats for you two!" He bent at the waist, head bowed, not daring to look up, his attitude so respectful it bordered on groveling.
Standing to the side, Tran Kien was shaken to his core. Just what exactly was Elder Wei's identity? Why would a single, dilapidated coin terrify a member of the Divine Weapon Pavilion to such a degree?
Elder Wei paid the steward no mind. He simply retrieved the coin and gestured to Tran Kien. The two leisurely stepped inside. Behind them, the steward remained bowed to the ground, cold sweat entirely drenching the back of his shirt.
The space inside was incredibly vast and luxurious. The floor was covered with precious beast-fur carpets, and the walls were adorned with paintings and all sorts of gleaming weapons. Hundreds of cultivators were seated in brocade-upholstered armchairs. In the very center stood a raised platform concealed by a crimson silk curtain. The steward had quickly arranged two seats for them in the front row—a secluded corner that nevertheless offered the best vantage point.
"Elder Wei, do we just wait like this?" Tran Kien asked softly.
"There is no need to wait," Elder Wei chuckled, his gaze fixed upon the crimson curtain. "The good show is about to begin. Today, you did not merely come to collect a debt. You came so that the entire world will know: the legacy of the Lac Viet has never faded away."