Chapter 162: The Grand Preceptor of the Winter Office (Subscription Requested)

Lu Qian's words greatly benefited Chiyin as well.

Seeing Lu Qian's flood dragon made her own true dragon appear inadequate by comparison—something no one would believe if told.

"I have learned much," Chiyin expressed her gratitude in a straightforward and decisive manner.

She was not the type to cling stubbornly to her pride. Since Lu Qian's perspective was correct, she would humbly offer her thanks even though his cultivation was slightly inferior to her own.

The two flew onward for nearly ten thousand miles.

Ahead of them appeared a vast expanse of fertile plains.

Across the plains, numerous cities stood tall and proud.

"Let us descend," Chiyin turned and smiled at Lu Qian.

With that, her figure glided downward into the city.

The city walls were towering and stretched for miles.

Their mottled surfaces were covered in green moss, bearing witness to a millennium of historic vicissitudes.

The guards at the city gates wore iron armor, standing outside the fortifications and looking down upon those below.

The iron armor flickered faintly with spiritual fluctuations, suggesting that the guards were practitioners of magic as well.

Beside them stood two strange beings clad in cloaks, with enormous black feathered wings on their backs and a chilling aura emanating from their entire bodies.

Above the city gate, two elegantly sweeping characters were inscribed on a plaque: "Blazing Sun."

They entered Blazing Sun City.

The flow of people was immense, and the population of this city far exceeded that of Myriad Elephants Island or even the vicinity of the Nether-Depth Temple.

Along the way, Lu Qian had noticed strange triangular pig-headed beasts grazing in the wheat fields on both sides of the road.

These triangular beasts fed on weeds and produced waste resembling fertilizer.

It seemed that the integration between cultivators and mortals in this region was relatively close.

At the center of the city stood a pitch-black pagoda, a hundred zhang in height.

It comprised nineteen tiers, towering magnificently.

Within a radius of one li around the pagoda, there were no other buildings, allowing the cultivators within the tower to look down upon the living beings below from a lofty vantage point.

The two of them walked toward the pagoda.

"Halt, travelers."

A figure suddenly emerged from the ground.

This person wore golden scale armor, stood over a zhang tall, bore a cinnabar mark on his forehead, and held a miniature pagoda in both palms, exuding an imposing aura.

Chiyin produced a peach-wood talisman plaque.

The divine general glanced at it briefly, then burrowed back into the earth.

Inside the pagoda, it was dim and devoid of bright light, with only mermaid-oil everlasting lamps flickering on the walls.

The spiral staircase winding upward appeared quite eerie, making it feel as though it led not to the upper levels, but straight down to the eighteen layers of hell.

This left Lu Qian quite puzzled, given his impression of the Nine Firmaments Dao Alliance.

This faction was generally considered a righteous sect of the orthodox path and treated mortals quite well; why, then, did it appear so sinister?

The surrounding walls were carved with dark red cinnabar patterns, interwoven densely with gold wire and copper threads to form a complex magic array.

The doors to every floor were tightly shut, bearing their own restrictive seals.

Each level was patrolled by a divine general similar to the one they had just encountered.

Reaching the topmost floor, they pushed open the great doors.

The space before them suddenly expanded, with no walls overhead or around the sides.

The sky was boundless, and the surrounding winds rushed against a transparent dome.

Beneath their feet lay a smooth bronze floor, engraved with similarly intricate patterns.

A group of cultivators dressed in black robes, marked with a snowflake pattern on their chests, bustled back and forth.

The moment they saw Chiyin enter, everyone came to a halt.

An elderly Taoist with white hair, floral patterns on his black robe, and a square scholar's cap stepped forward and bowed respectfully. "Greetings, Third Lesser Chancellor."

"Greetings, Third Lesser Chancellor!"

The crowd bowed in unison.

"Inspector Fang, no need for formalities. Attend to your tasks. This is Fellow Daoist Lu Qian, our prospective Lesser Chancellor," Chiyin said with a gentle smile and an easygoing wave of her hand.

"It is no trouble at all. I have nothing pressing at the moment, so allow me to show our esteemed guest around."

Upon hearing that Lu Qian was the future Lesser Chancellor, Inspector Fang's expression immediately grew solemn.

Crack, crack!

A series of crisp snapping sounds echoed from nearby.

Lu Qian turned his head and saw a row of human-height white giant eggs beside them.

The outer shells were inscribed with complex runes written in cinnabar talisman ink.

"Quickly, quickly! A Lanling Workshop Daoist is about to be born."

"Hurry over here!"

"The Six-Jia Life-Protecting Secret Incantation is about to fail. Where are the shamanic priests?! Get over here quickly!"

A group of cultivators bustled about in a flurry.

Five Taoists stood before five separate eggs.

They paced out the steps of Yu and formed sword hand-seals.

The talismans on the exterior of the egg shells slowly emitted a crimson glow.

As the ritual proceeded, Inspector Fang noticed Lu Qian's keen interest and explained:

"Lanling Workshop Daoists are a type of Daoist soldiers. They excel at commanding minor ghosts and possess strength comparable to an ox; they are an exceptional choice for guardian Daoist soldiers."

To craft a Lanling Workshop Daoist, one required the corpse of a cultivator and twenty deceased infants.

After inscribing the Six-Jia Secret Talismans, carving peach-wood plaques, and planting them into dragon-bird egg shells by usurping the nest like a cuckoo for forty-nine days, they could be successfully refined.

Whoosh!

A red radiance illuminated the chamber.

Five tall figures came into view.

Before them stood a long-bearded Daoist, two zhang tall, wearing a towering crown, with two large urns resting on each of his shoulders. Dozens of small children were contained within the urns.

The children wailed and cried, but with a light chuckle from the Daoist, they instantly fell silent.

"Greetings, Master," the Lanling Workshop Daoist knelt on one knee and said.

"This method of crafting Daoist soldiers was contributed by the Lanling Daoist, and the name was given by him as well. In the future, you too may contribute magic techniques in exchange for Daoist merit."

Daoist merit functioned similarly to the Nether-Depth Temple, used for trading supplies.

The cultivation atmosphere here was dense; one could exchange Daoist merit for the research achievements of others, or trade one's own findings for merit.

"So that is how it is..." Lu Qian felt a profound sense of astonishment in his heart.

In other places, magic techniques were guarded like one's own lifeline, never lightly shown to outsiders.

Yet here, they were actually willing to exchange them openly.

Just as the group finished their task, another red light flared within the room.

A decree condensed out of the void.

*At the third quarter of the Yin hour, bring three inches and two parts of rainfall.*

"Quickly, activate the array! The higher-ups have issued a decree for rain!" Inspector Fang shouted to the others.

The crowd arranged themselves according to specific positions within the bronze grand hall.

In an instant, the entire pagoda lit up.

Dark clouds obscured a region tens of miles around, and rain poured down in sheets.

It lasted for half an hour before finally subsiding.

Inspector Fang approached the two of them, cupped his hands, and said, "Both Lesser Chancellors, the magic array is now idle and ready for use."

"Very well."

Standing at the center of the array, a flash of light vanished in an instant, and their figures disappeared.

A sensation of the world spinning around them washed over them.

When Lu Qian opened his eyes, he found himself arriving at a towering mountain.

The peak was massive; the lower slopes were scorching hot, yet the summit was capped with glistening snow.

"This is my master's dao domain, the White-Headed Mountain Dao Domain," Chiyin explained.

"Who goes there?"

Boom!

The ice and snow ahead condensed into a towering humanoid monster.

"Please announce to my Master; his third disciple, Chiyin, requests an audience."

The words had barely fallen when the scenery around them shifted abruptly.

Opening his eyes once more, he found an elegant man with white hair and white eyebrows standing before him.

The man sat at the edge of a cliff, where fierce gales howled and the biting cold wind was piercing.

Yet it could not harm this seemingly ordinary man in the slightest.

"Lu Qian of Myriad Elephants Island pays respects to Your Excellency, the Lesser Chancellor of Winter."

At first glance, Lu Qian recognized this person as one of the legendary Five Lesser Chancellors—the Lesser Chancellor of Winter.

Chiyin stepped forward and recounted the sequence of events.

"Since you are Chiyin's savior, and with her vouching for you, this poor Daoist will accept you as an honorary disciple. What magic techniques do you know?"

Lu Qian briefly demonstrated his body-refinement and flood dragon Yin spirit, along with the Profund-Gold Sword Pouch and the God-Slaying Spike.

Since he was now in someone else's territory and could not conceal them anyway, it was better to demonstrate them openly and candidly.

"A seventh-tier Profund-Gold Sword Pouch is indeed quite rare. And this true water you cultivate is quite decent."

"Chiyin, take him down and impart the Primordial-One True Water Technique to him. Once he has mastered it, I will formally accept him as a disciple."

"Be on your way!"

The Lesser Chancellor of Winter was largely indifferent, casting a casual glance before dismissing the matter entirely.

"That's it?" Lu Qian found it hard to believe it was that simple.