Beginning with the Ubume Bird-Chapter 570 - 2: Visit of the Mo

The driver’s seat of the large truck was occupied by a man in his forties, with a scruffy beard and wearing a shiny leather jacket. Beside him sat a small child wearing a yellow duckbill cap, no more than ten years old.

"Dad, where are we going?"

"Shut up."

The child in the passenger seat shrank his neck and lowered his head in silence.

Between the dull yellow and dark black mountains, a pale winding mountain road stretched intertwined. A somewhat old Dongfeng Tianlong truck struggled to make its way through the mountains. This was the Sichuan-Tibet Southern Route, known as the Nujiang 72 Turns. It was among the country’s most challenging roads, cutting straight through Yela Mountain and leading to the Nujiang Grand Canyon, bordering the China-Myanmar frontier.

The man steered the wheel with one hand while holding a phone in the other, negotiating fervently in Mandarin mixed with half-baked Burmese with someone on the other end of the line.

Amidst the flying spit, the truck narrowly turned a corner; loose stones trickled down the cliff, sending chills down one’s spine.

It wasn’t until half a day later that the man hung up the phone and tossed it onto the blood-stained shoulder bag beside him. The zipper of the bag was half open, revealing stacks of banknotes, a few gold bricks, and two bottles of drinking water.

He glanced at his son, "Hungry?"

"Not hungry."

"Need to pee?"

The child shook his head.

The man said nothing more, and the truck continued through the treacherous roads.

Suddenly, he lifted his eyelids. At the end of the serpentine mountain road, like a huge python, stood a tall and thin man with a blue scarf, holding a handgun.

The truck’s engine hummed softly, but the man’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Son," he called out, "close your eyes, and don’t open them until I say so, got it?"

"Mmm."

As the child closed his eyes, the man floored the gas pedal. The gauge on the dashboard swung wildly, hitting the bottom. In such intricate and dangerous terrain, his action was akin to suicide.

The twelve-ton Dongfeng Tianlong unleashed an astonishing momentum that seemed to fling it off the cliff any second, yet the truck tires sparked against the road surface, clinging to the steep mountain path. Amid severe friction with the road, the vehicle accelerated through the 72 Turns at breakneck speed!

In a shower of sparks, the truck shed its color, parts flew off, and its structure shifted. In just a few seconds, a metal colossus with three heads and six arms emerged from the truck, reborn. It towered high, holding various primitive weapons like a halberd and a short spear, and like a small hill, it vaulted into the sky, hurtling toward the man with the blue scarf at the end of the road.

Legacy: The Spirit of Aoaoju, the Warrior Official.

"The Classic of Western Desolation": "In the Great Wilderness, there is a mountain called Aoaoju, where the sun and moon descend."

Inside the cab, the man took a deep breath and placed his calloused hand on his son’s head. If the child were to open his eyes at that moment, he would’ve seen his father’s body shine with a luster like iron ore, resembling a weathered stone statue.

The Blue Scarf was loading his handgun, raising his head to shoot as he did so.

Instead of the sound of gunpowder exploding, what accompanied the bullet leaving the chamber was a crisp, metallic clang as if stone struck metal.

The 7.62mm pistol bullet penetrated the steel giant’s skull, sending white ripples spreading horizontally across the mountains. This was followed by a violent explosion.

After a while,

Amidst the debris and thick smoke, the man tightly embraced his now unconscious son. When he finally looked up, a scalding gun muzzle was already pressed against his forehead.

The Blue Scarf coldly stared at the man.

"Zheng? Luo?" The dying man revealed a hideous smile. Blood dripped from the corners of his eyes and ears onto the ground. He spat out a mouthful of bloody sputum, "You bastards sure are lucky."

The Blue Scarf remained silent and simply pulled the trigger. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

The metallic strike echoed through the forest.

"Who brought me here, brought me here, brought me here~"

The ringing of the phone came like a roar,

The Blue Scarf hoisted the unconscious child over one shoulder and answered the call with his other hand, bringing the phone to his mouth, "Hello? Boss Jiao?"

"Come back to Beijing immediately for the Yan Zhao Club."

"Didn’t we have one two months ago? I can’t leave here. Just report me absent like last time."

"This time, all the Proxy Travelers must be present, all of them."

Jiao Chong emphasized the last sentence.

"What happened?"

"Qin An is dead."

Blue Scarf’s pupils shrank; her phone slipped out of her grasp and fell to the ground.

Jiao Chong’s voice still came from the phone on the ground, "It’s not just Lou Master; many others are dead too. There will be significant changes in the personnel of the Yan Zhao Club, a large group of new people will come in, and the seats of the old members will be raised. You’ve been in Yunnan for four or five years, and the old master has always thought highly of you. He wants you back this time..."

————————————————

Li Yan stretched his limbs as he walked down from the attic, his mind still reeling from the explosive news of Lou Master’s death.

Lou Master Qin An, one of the two newly appointed Ten Masters two years ago, had built his reputation slowly over several decades.

Feather, Scale, Jie, and Lou, the Four Masters, had known each other for a long time. Lou Master was the youngest among them, and of all the Ten Masters, his whereabouts were the most erratic. Yet among the Heaven Jiazi Nine Fruits, he also had a large following. While the scale of his organization could not be compared with that of the other Ten Masters, it was still not to be underestimated and had a considerable size within the entire Yan Zhao Club.

But two days ago, Lou Master died in one of the fruits with extremely high danger, and along with him died about forty Proxy Travelers.

In reality, the death rate of Proxy Travelers wasn’t high, usually, not even one would die in a year. The severity of this incident was almost second only to the battle with Sifan two years ago.

With the death of Qin An, plus Fur Master´s position being vacant for two years, Cao Yuanchao in hibernation, and the authority of Deity Master being shared among many, only five of the still-active Ten Masters remained in the Yan Zhao Club, and a large number of Proxy Travelers’ positions were empty...

As he was pondering these matters, Li Yan suddenly turned his gaze to the table in his own house’s hall.

"Thank you, thank you."

A fat man with a greasy smile took a bowl of rice porridge from Lady Dan’s hand, looked up at Li Yan with a smile, and said, "What took you so long? You should have finished the task half an hour ago."

Li Yan looked at Lady Dan, who glanced at the fat man, "He said he’s your lifesaver, so I let him in. He’s been here for about ten minutes. Is he lying to me?"

"No, no, he is indeed my lifesaver."

The fat man gave Li Yan a thumbs up.

Li Yan descended the stairs, about to speak, when suddenly, there was a stir in his sleeve, and out flew a bright red, four-clawed crocodile. The hall was filled with an exotic fragrance as the Pig Dragon King transformed into a sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy in red, fair-skinned and rosy-lipped. He laughed heartily and sang:

Turtles blow sheng flutes, soft-shelled turtles set off fireworks, woolly crabs leading horses with sidesteps.

Snakes beat gongs, eels drum, waterfowl carry sedan chairs with bulging eyes.

Octopus on the zither and horseshoe crabs on the huqin, spiders sing tunes in disarray.

Fireflies raise lamps to light the way, field rats raise flags and cry out the struggle.

Old razor clams dance on tiptoe. Shrimp larvae carry trays, tightening their bellies.

It’s getting dark, about to rain, in the Dragon Palace, they’re asking for more.

If you ask which Dragon King? It’s Yang Zichu from the Water Lord Palace!

Overjoyed, the Pig Dragon King had consumed the Soul-forgiving Water, not only achieving human form but also ascending to a power level of 2,500 years (Eight Extremes Peak).

No sooner had he finished speaking than three gazes rested on him.

Li Yan stared at the Pig Dragon King silently. No, he should be called Yang Zichu now.

"That, Lord Governor, I didn’t mean that. I wasn’t saying I’m that Water Lord..."

Li Yan gestured to open the entrance to the Water Lord Palace, "Get inside."

"Eh."

Seeing that Li Yan wasn’t angry, the Pig Dragon King joyfully responded and eagerly rushed into the Water Lord Palace, proudly thinking to himself, "Though he says that, the Lord Governor isn’t entering the Water Lord Palace, so doesn’t the entire expanse of this Water Lord Palace still fall under my rule, Yang Zichu..."

Diving into the Water Lord Palace in his dragon form, he collided with a horde of green-bronze scaled Water Tiger Fish.

A large dragon head emerged from the Water Lord Palace, and the Pig Dragon King stammered, "Bi-Bi-Big, Big Sir, in there, there’s... there’s..."

"Get inside."

Li Yan glared at him.

"I." Once more, three gazes converged on him.

The Pig Dragon King swallowed nervously and turned around with a woeful expression to dive back into the Water Lord Palace.