Cultivation Starting from Full Talent

Chapter 213: Chapter 211 Speak Up, I Can’t Hear!

Sword Casting Shop.

Sang Ping’an’s arm was still wrapped in a piece of black mourning cloth.

He was one of Ou Yeping’s collateral relatives, and it was said that he should be calling Ou Yeping his Seventh Uncle.

Although Ning Daoran was a bit unclear about how two people, separated by over a hundred years, were related as Seventh Uncle, the world was filled with strange things that didn’t always need to be understood.

“Sang Ping’an.”

Ning Daoran pointed at the wooden box on the table and said, “Both White Deer and I are cultivators; we neither covet worldly riches nor will we stay long in Fanshu City, but before the old master passed away, he entrusted the sword casting shop to me, so I still hope the sword casting shop can continue to prosper.

The shopkeeper’s plaque, along with the deeds for the land and the sword casting shop, are all inside this box. Starting today, I intend to make you the shopkeeper. What do you think?”

“Ah?”

Sang Ping’an was slightly taken aback, “I… I… Senior Ning, the shopkeeper of the sword casting shop should certainly be a master swordsmith with profound hammering techniques, but my hammering is rather ordinary, though my spear technique is noteworthy…”

“You are wrong, actually, your spear technique is also quite ordinary.”

Sang Ping’an’s face reddened.

“However, being the shopkeeper of a sword casting shop doesn’t necessarily mean one must be a master or divine craftsman; in my view, it’s more important to manage the shop well, to retain people’s hearts, to make the existing master swordsmiths willing to stay and work hard for the shop.”

Ning Daoran narrowed his eyes and smiled, “In this respect, I think you have the necessary talent, so you are more suitable to be the shopkeeper of the sword casting shop than I am. Also, the old master was your elder, so it’s both reasonable and appropriate for you to inherit the sword casting shop.”

“Yes!”

Sang Ping’an immediately knelt, “Junior will not fail your expectations, elder.”

“Good.”

Ning Daoran took out a specially crafted second-class Paperfolk from his bosom and said, “Keep this Paperfolk. Remember, do not open the Paperfolk unless it is a matter of life and death.”

“Yes!”

Sang Ping’an took the Paperfolk with both hands and said, “Senior, this Paperfolk…”

“When you or the sword casting shop are in a life-threatening crisis, inject a stream of mana into this Paperfolk, and it will protect you completely. But don’t rely solely on it; this Paperfolk has the combat power of an early-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator, and its effectiveness lasts only a short thirty years, so the future of the sword casting shop still depends on how you, Sang Ping’an, strategize and control the overall situation.”

The mana infused in the second-class Paperfolk would mostly dissipate after thirty years, hence the “expiration date.”

“Many thanks, Senior!”

Sang Ping’an nodded. The moment he obtained the title of shopkeeper, the expression in his eyes changed.

…

Several months later, the year was coming to an end.

Ning Daoran planned to leave Fanshu City after the New Year, when the spring brought warm blossoms.

Next stop, White Dragon Immortal City in Yizhou.

Beside White Dragon Immortal City lay a huge inner sea called Tianluo Sea, which produced a type of Spirit fish known as the “Golden Dragon Spirit Carp.” Once Golden Dragon Spirit Carp reached a certain age, they could be used in True Blood Pills!

Ning Daoran had long been eyeing those True Blood Great Pills, and currently, Big Stupid Deer, Little Blackie, and Green Water Turtle all greatly needed those pills; even the Fire Devouring Ants could accelerate their advancement by consuming these pills if any were left over!

A few days later, the sound of firecrackers filled the city.

Sword Casting Shop.

Ning Daoran, with his sleeves draped, sat inside the house as the snow continued endlessly outside and said, “The sound of firecrackers ushers out the old year; chrysanthemum blossoms greet the spring…”

“Ow ow~~~”

Beside him, Big Stupid Deer narrowed his eyes, thinking, ‘Big brother is truly cultured, speaking so eloquently.’

“Fellow Daoist Ning.”

At that moment, a fairy in a white robe appeared in the courtyard; it was Chen Ping’er, who held an umbrella standing amidst the snow, giving Ning Daoran the feeling of seeing through a thousand years.

Chen Ping’er… Her charm could easily distract a Daoist’s heart; he had to leave soon!

“Fellow Daoist Chen.”

Ning Daoran smiled, “Is there something you need?”

“There is something, and yet there isn’t.”

Chen Ping’er smiled, “I just thought since Fellow Daoist Ning has no family in Fanshu City and I likewise have no relatives here, why don’t you come to Floating Duckweed Workshop for this year’s New Year’s Eve? Ping’er will cook you a few specialty dishes. What do you think, fellow Daoist?”

“That would be acceptable.”

Ning Daoran said, “But I must bring Old Lu.”

“That is only natural!”

…

Floating Duckweed Workshop.

New Year’s Eve, no business being conducted, nor would there be any today.

Workshop’s backyard.

Chen Ping’er slipped out of her fairy gown and into an apron to wash up and make soup.

Cooking was something Ning Daoran and Big Stupid Deer were exceptionally good at, and they also had a Spirit Garden Cave Heaven.

So…

Big Stupid Deer hand-rolled a pot of dumplings.

Ning Daoran whipped up a hotpot on the spot, harvesting fresh vegetables from the Spirit Garden Cave Heaven and slaughtering a Spiritual Sheep.

Before long, inside a private room of Floating Duckweed Workshop.

While heavy snow fluttered outside, inside they ate dumplings and enjoyed hotpot with Spiritual Sheep meat.

“This has been the most comfortable New Year’s Eve that this concubine has had in years…”

A few cups of Spiritual Wine later, Chen Ping’er was slightly intoxicated, her face flushed, “Fellow Daoist Ning, I truly wish you were here year after year.”

“Unfortunately.”

Ning Daoran spoke bluntly, “Old Lu and I will be leaving Fanshu City after spring begins, continuing our travels across Jianghu… Fellow Daoist Chen, this is probably the last meal we will have together before we depart.”

“That so…”

A flicker of disappointment passed through Chen Ping’er’s eyes, but she immediately smiled and said, “No matter, I hope you form your Nascent Soul soon and achieve the Great Dao!”

“Thank you.”

Not long after, night fell.

Red lanterns rose throughout the city, especially at the brothel across the street, which was still operating.

“Hmm?”

Suddenly, Ning Daoran smelled a bloody scent, stretched out his Divine Sense, and discovered a man in the brothel was going mad. He had stripped two brothel women completely naked and even more ghastly, there were two headless corpses at his feet.

It was Mo Xinglie again!

This man, drunk to the brink, his eyes bloodshot and crazed, was beyond the control of his followers.

In the blink of an eye, over ten brothel women turned into corpses.

“Truly tasteless!”

Mo Xinglie stepped out into thin air from the second floor of the brothel and furiously threw a naked woman he held into the building. He licked the blood off the corner of his mouth and sneered, “A bunch of cheap maids, dying is too kind for them!”

Murder on New Year’s Eve—Mo Xinglie was indeed arrogant!

“Fellow Daoist Ning.”

Chen Ping’er’s eyebrows furrowed as she transmitted her voice, “I heard that Mo Xinglie cultivated a secret technique called Capturing God Technique to enhance his Divine Soul. However, this technique has a huge side effect—it changes the cultivator’s disposition. His ferocity and cruelty are probably influenced by this technique. He cultivates it because Mo Yunting ordered it, aiming to strengthen his Divine Soul enough to perfectly cultivate the Divine Weapon Sect’s ultimate technique Cloud Thunder True Technique. This is why Mo Yunting has always indulged Mo Xinglie.”

“Hmm.”

Ning Daoran nodded. He had never had a good impression of the Divine Weapon Sect.

Too small a pattern, hard to measure.

“Ah?”

In the midst of snow and wind, Mo Xinglie, holding a wine jug in one hand and a long sword in the other, glanced over and laughed, “Isn’t that Fairy Chen of the Floating Duckweed Workshop? Fairy, come drink with me quickly.”

“Young Master Mo, you are drunk.”

Chen Ping’er stood up, performed a formal bow, and smiled, “You followers, why aren’t you helping Young Master Mo back to the Sect? It’s New Year’s Eve, a night for family reunion.”

“Exactly, exactly!”

Several followers quickly agreed, “Young Master, let’s go back to the Sect. It’s too late, and if we don’t return today, the Sect Master will be angry.”

“Let the old guy be angry, what do I fear?”

Mo Xinglie’s eyes still fixed on Chen Ping’er, he laughed, “I have played with countless women, but I haven’t tasted a beauty like Fairy Chen. Fairy Chen… why not surrender to me, become a concubine of this Young Master? I promise, you won’t be mistreated.”

“Young Master Mo, you jest. How could I, a mere woman, deserve such fortune?”

“Lowly wench!”

Mo Xinglie’s expression changed instantly, and he said coldly, “Stop fucking playing hard to get. Do you think you’re some virtuous and upright woman? Have you forgotten how this Floating Duckweed Workshop started? If you hadn’t offered yourself up in the beginning, how could you have secured a place in Fanshu City? Now you’re acting high and mighty with this Young Master!”

His gaze turned fierce: “Today, you must warm my bed, or you’ll end up like those cheap maids!”

Chen Ping’er’s face turned ashen.

“Sigh…”

Ning Daoran sighed, “Originally, I didn’t want to meddle with this karma, but since it has come knocking, it seems I have to act and deliver divine justice today!”

Saying this, he stood up and said, “Mo Xinglie, if you can withstand three punches from me and survive, I will spare your life!”

“What?!”

Mo Xinglie laughed out loud, cupping his ear, and asked, “Who are you? An early-stage Foundation Establishment trash from the sword-casting shop dares to say such words to me? Three punches? I can take thirty punches from you, what can you do about it?”

…

“Fellow Daoist Ning…”

Chen Ping’er bit her lip, slowly shaking her head, and transmitted, “Do not offend this man… behind him is the immense Red Leaf Valley Divine Weapon Sect…”

“It’s fine.”

Ning Daoran had already made a comprehensive assessment. If Mo Yunting sought revenge for his son, he wouldn’t mind sending Mo Yunting off as well. What Divine Weapon Sect Sect Master—he’s nothing but a pile of crap!

Facing such a sect, one shouldn’t adhere to any so-called righteousness or morality; just do whatever feels satisfying!

Destroy their Mountain Gate, eradicate their Daoist Lineage, sever their heritage, seize their treasures, exterminate their entire clan, and capture their Master’s wives and sisters!

“Buzz!”

In an instant, Ning Daorang vanished from the second floor of the Floating Duckweed Workshop, and in the next moment, he appeared ten meters in the air, his punch breaking through thunder and wind, bringing with it numerous swirling snowflakes!

“You…”

Greatly shocked, Mo Xinglie hastily put up his arms to block!

“Boom!”

With a loud noise, the body of this junior master of the Divine Weapon Sect instantly sunk several meters deep into the shattered street, his arms breaking immediately, the force of the blow far beyond what his late-stage Foundation Establishment could counter!

“You…”

Mo Xinglie’s pupils dilated, “Golden Core?!”

Ning Daoran’s second punch descended from the sky!

Since he had made a move, he had no intention of holding back. The words ‘merely punish’ had been completely erased from his dictionary since his Core Formation.

“Boom—”

The ground shook violently, snowflakes scattering everywhere as if the entire world had halted because of this punch.

In a crater at least ten meters deep, Mo Xinglie’s face was severely disfigured, and just two punches had almost ended him on the spot.

“What did you just say?”

Ning Daoran landed, stepping on Mo Xinglie’s chest, and leaned into his ear, “You just asked what I could do to you? What about now, do I have the capacity to do something?”

“Senior… Senior Ning…”

Mo Xinglie, his mouth spewing blood and indistinctly speaking, pleaded, “I know my mistakes… please, Senior, spare my life…”

“LOUDER, I can’t hear!”

Ning Daoran’s third punch came down.

“Boom!”

His head burst open, turning into a messy mix of red and white fluids.