One person: Senior brother Zhang Zhiwei, the Celestial Master begged me to descend the mountain.

Ten thousand meters above the ground, a sea of ​​clouds surges.

The enormous golden cloud boat broke through layers of clouds and mist, like a giant golden whale, swimming steadily under the azure sky.

The wind whistled in their ears, but was blocked out by a faint golden shield, making the cabin quiet and pleasant.

Zhang Taichu leaned back in the armchair at the bow of the boat, still holding the teacup he had somehow acquired, his eyelids slightly drooping, as if he were resting with his eyes closed.

In another corner of the cabin, however, the atmosphere was rather... lively and bustling.

"Hehehe..."

Zhang Chulan rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining, and squatted down next to Ma Xianhong, who was tied up like a dumpling, drool practically dripping from his mouth.

"Village Chief Ma, don't blame your brother for being ruthless."

"Since you're going to Longhu Mountain for further studies anyway, I'll reluctantly keep these worldly possessions for you."

As he spoke, his thieving hands expertly reached for the sac at Ma Xianhong's waist.

"I'm telling you, Lao Zhang."

Wang Ye sat on the wooden board to the side, pushed up the brim of his hat, and complained with an expression of utter disbelief:

"Isn't that a bit too much?"

"They were all taken away by Master Taichu, and you're not even going to spare their underwear?"

Zhuge Qing, also fanning himself with a folding fan, leaned against the ship's railing, a mocking smile playing on his lips:

"Is this the style of 'All-Knowing'?"

"As expected, seeing is believing. Zhang Chulan, your shamelessness is indeed far more profound than your lightning magic."

"Get lost! You don't know anything!"

Zhang Chulan didn't even turn his head, and retorted confidently:

"That's called making rational use of resources!"

"This guy is a descendant of the Divine Craftsman! Any magical artifact he casually reveals will be a priceless treasure!"

"We've fought and done all that hard labor this time, what's wrong with getting some payment for our work?"

As they spoke, Zhang Chulan had already released the restriction on the Devouring Pouch.

This kind of low-level restriction is as easy for him as opening his own front door.

"The moment to witness a miracle has arrived!"

Zhang Chulan took a deep breath, turned the food pouch downwards, and gave it a sharp shake on the deck.

Splash! ...

A sharp, metallic clanging sound instantly filled the entire cabin.

Immediately afterwards, a small mountain of miscellaneous items was piled up in front of everyone.

Zhang Chulan's smile froze instantly.

Wang Ye and Zhuge Qing peeked out and then burst into undisguised laughter.

"puff……"

"Hahaha! This is the treasure you wanted?"

Among the pile of things, there were no dazzling magical artifacts as one might have imagined, nor any earth-shattering divine weapons.

There was a bunch of oddly shaped metal parts, unpolished wooden blocks, a handful of rusty screws, and even half a bucket of unused lubricating oil.

It's like you excitedly robbed a billionaire's safe, only to find it full of wrenches and screwdrivers.

"Depend on!!"

Zhang Chulan clutched his hair in despair, letting out a scream:

"Is this guy a scavenger?!"

"The dignified village chief of Biyou Village! The new leader of the Jie Sect! He carries a hardware store with him everywhere he goes?!"

"Is he out of his mind?! Where's the finished product?! Where's that soul-shaking bell?! Where's that empty wailing sound?!"

Zhang Chulan stubbornly rummaged through the pile of junk, trying to find even one usable item.

"Stop looking."

Zhuge Qing smiled and shook his head:

"The essence of the Divine Craftsmanship is to turn the rotten into the miraculous. For Ma Xianhong, carrying raw materials with him and refining magical artifacts anytime and anywhere is the most efficient way."

"A finished product? That kind of thing would only take up space in his sac."

Zhang Chulan felt worse than if he had swallowed a fly.

He angrily kicked the pile of parts, grabbed a half-finished product that looked like a fire poker, and was about to throw it away to vent his frustration.

Sudden.

His gaze lingered on a corner of the pile of parts.

There, a striking red color stood out.

Among a pile of cold metal and wood, that thing looked out of place.

Curious, Zhang Chulan reached out and pried the thing out of the pile of screws.

That was a rattle drum.

The most common and cheapest kind of wooden rattle.

The workmanship was appallingly crude; most of the red paint had peeled off, revealing the dark wood underneath. The drumhead was covered with cheap sheepskin, which was stained with several unidentified dirt spots.

If you leave this thing on the street, even the old man who collects trash will think it takes up too much space.

"this……"

Zhang Chulan held the rattle drum and spun it twice.

Boom, boom.

The sound was dull, like hitting rotten wood.

"This Ma Xianhong... still has such a childlike heart?"

Zhang Chulan looked disgusted, his lips twitching:

"Hiding this thing among a bunch of high-tech components? What kind of peculiar fetish is that?"

"What bad luck! What terrible luck!"

"After all that effort, all I found was a broken toy!"

After saying that, he raised his hand, about to throw the broken rattle drum down the side of the ship into the air thousands of meters below.

"Wait a minute."

Just as the rattle was about to slip from his hand...

A detached voice suddenly rang in Zhang Chulan's ears.

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable air of authority.

Zhang Chulan's hand suddenly froze, stopping abruptly in mid-air.

He turned around and looked somewhat blankly at the bow of the ship:

"Grand Uncle? What's wrong?"

"This thing is just junk, it just takes up space..."

Zhang Taichu, who had been keeping his eyes closed, slowly opened them.

Those deep eyes weren't looking at Zhang Chulan, but were fixed on the inconspicuous broken rattle drum in his hand.

A golden glint flashed in his eyes.

"Bring it here."

Zhang Taichu extended one hand, speaking calmly.

Although Zhang Chulan didn't understand why, his body reacted instinctively. He ran over eagerly, holding the rattle drum in both hands, and respectfully handed it to Zhang Taichu.

"Uncle-Master, if you like this, I'll buy you a new case when we get back..."

Zhang Taichu ignored his banter.

His slender fingers gently caressed the rough handle of the rattle drum, feeling the deep engravings on it.

That instant.

A faint yet extremely chaotic stream of Qi flowed from his fingertips and into his senses.

This energy is not from Ma Xianhong.

Ma Xianhong's Qi, though obsessive, carries a craftsman's rigor and order.

But this Qi...

It's like a wild horse that's broken free, like a gust of wind that can't be caught, full of chaos, freedom, madness, and an arrogance that regards everything in the world as straw dogs.

"That's interesting."

A playful smile slowly curved the corners of Zhang Taichu's lips.

He looked up at Ma Xianhong, who had been tossed into the corner, then looked down at the rattle drum in his hand, and chuckled softly.

"This doesn't belong to that kid."

"There's a dead smell in this."

"devil?"

Wang Ye and Zhuge Qing also came over at this time, staring at the broken drum with curiosity.

Wang Ye frowned, and the tip of his nose twitched:

"There is indeed a strange Qi remaining on it... but it doesn't seem to belong to any particular school or sect."

"Of course not any particular school or sect."

Zhang Taichu toyed with the rattle drum, a golden light flashing at his fingertips as he gently touched the drumhead.

"Because this person has no roots."

"Rootless".

boom!

These three words, once uttered, were like a thunderclap, exploding in the narrow cabin.

Zhang Chulan, who had been grinning, suddenly changed his expression.

His pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinpoints, and all the muscles in his body tensed to the extreme at that moment.

Rootless!

Leader of Quanxing Sect!

The culprit who triggered the Jia Shen Rebellion!

That man who has countless connections with his grandfather, Zhang Huaiyi!

Furthermore... it's the key clue to unraveling the mystery of Bao'er's background!

"Master...Grandmaster..."

Zhang Chulan's voice trembled slightly as he stared intently at the rattle drum, his throat dry.

"You mean... this is something without roots?!"

"How did Ma Xianhong get his things?!"

Zhang Taichu did not answer directly.

He simply tapped the drumhead lightly with his gleaming golden finger.

"Thump."

This sound was no longer muffled.

It became crisp and melodious, with a penetrating power that went straight to the soul.

With that drumbeat.

On that originally dilapidated rattle drum, the peeling paint lines began to emit a faint glow.

hum-

The air trembled slightly.

A phantom light projected from the drum surface and hovered above everyone's heads.

That wasn't writing, nor was it a treasure map.

That was a picture.

A three-dimensional landscape painting, as if directly etched from memory.

The mountains stretch endlessly, rising and falling like dragons and snakes.

Amidst the swirling clouds and mist, an incredibly precipitous mountain peak pierces the sky.

Deep within those mountains, a narrow canyon, as if cleaved by a giant axe, appears and disappears.

Even though it was just a phantom, everyone could feel the overwhelming sense of vastness and mystery emanating from it.

"This is……"

Zhuge Qing squinted, unconsciously tapping his palm with the folding fan in his hand, his mind racing:

"Looking at the mountain's shape, the dragon veins converge, yet remain dormant, untapped..."

"This is the Qinling Mountains!"

"Qinling Mountains?" Wang Ye was taken aback. "What kind of place is that?"

"Twenty-Four Heavenly Valleys".

Zhang Taichu casually uttered a name, directly revealing the answer to the mystery.

He gazed at the illusory image in the air, his interest growing ever stronger.

"It seems that even though that dead guy has been dead for so many years, he still doesn't want to settle down."

"Leaving a broken drum in the world, is that an invitation?"

"Tongtian Valley..."

Zhang Chulan muttered to himself, memorizing the shape of the canyon.

His heart was pounding.

That was the place where Wugensheng, the leader of Quanxing Sect, attained enlightenment!

It's also the place where the Thirty-Six Thieves swore brotherhood back then!

That rattle drum is like a key, a key to unlock the truth of what happened back then!

"Grandmaster Uncle!"

Zhang Chulan suddenly raised his head, his eyes filled with an unprecedented longing:

"we……"

"go."

Zhang Taichu interrupted him directly, his tone crisp and decisive.

With a flick of his wrist, the illusory image vanished instantly, and he casually tossed the worn-out rattle into his sleeve.

"I originally thought it would take more effort to find out what happened back then."

"I didn't expect it to be done so easily."

Zhang Taichu stood up, his Taoist robe fluttering even without wind.

He walked to the ship's side, his gaze sweeping across the vast sea of ​​clouds, and fixed directly on the northwest direction.

That's the location of the Qinling Mountains.

"In that case, let's go take a look."

"Hold on tight."

"Let's throw this burden back to Longhu Mountain first."

He pointed to Ma Xianhong on the ground:

"Then, let's go and have a look at that so-called Tongtian Valley."

"I want to see what kind of shady things Wugensheng, who has turned the entire world of supernatural beings upside down, is hiding inside."

boom--!!!

As soon as Zhang Taichu had a thought.

The golden cloud boat beneath their feet shuddered violently, its speed increasing dramatically in an instant.

The once calm sea of ​​clouds was forcibly torn apart, leaving a long trail.

The cloud boat drew a huge arc in the air, speeding towards Longhu Mountain with an indomitable momentum.