FRGNM -Chapter 310 The Yang-Positive Body

Leaning indifferently against the tree trunk, Jiang Yu—his eyes half-closed—suddenly snapped them open, murderous intent flashing deep within his gaze. Then he froze.

The one tugging at his clothes… was actually a six-year-old little girl.

“Big brother, why are you here all alone? Why don’t you come play with us?” Holding a small drum in her hands, the little girl looked at him in confusion.

The cold aura around him temporarily faded. Jiang Yu closed his eyes again and replied coolly, “There’s no need. I’m not a child…”

“You’re only a little older than me. How are you not a child?” she retorted seriously. “Lying gets you eaten by wolves. You’ll end up like Hua Chou—burned by fire and turned really, really scary.”

Touching her own face, the little girl shook her head, as if recalling that face, and couldn’t help shivering.

Putting down the teapot, Uncle Wang slowly sat down. Seeing Silver Wolf staring intently outside, he quickly laughed and said, “We’ve never seen outsiders before. It’s nice just to have someone to talk to. They’re only taking a look around. You’re here to find Hua Chou’s master, right?”

“You know Hua Chou’s master?” Ling Ruoxi’s eyes darkened. She remembered the Eastern Capital King once saying that Master Yinliang had taken in an extremely ugly disciple. They had found the disciple—but Master Yinliang’s whereabouts were still unknown.

Uncle Wang nodded cheerfully. “How could our village not know Hua Chou’s master? But the Master Yinliang you’re looking for—we really haven’t seen him.”

“No. The one we’re looking for is Hua Chou’s master.”

“Ah? But Hua Chou’s master isn’t called Master Yinliang. His name is Liu Han.”

Liu Han?

Silver Wolf’s eyes widened. He swallowed hard and quickly said, “He must have changed his name! Then where is this Liu Han now?”

“Hua Chou has had a hard life.” Uncle Wang sighed and began slowly. “When he was born, he brought death to his parents. His mother died in childbirth to save him. Soon after, his father was cooking with him in the kitchen—no one knows how, but the house caught fire. His father was burned alive, and Hua Chou’s face was completely ruined.”

At this point, Uncle Wang shuddered and continued, “When we rescued him, his face was burned beyond recognition. It was terrible. Later, Old Liu from the neighboring house pitied him. Since the child was born in the Year of Hua, he named him Hua Chou.”

“But when the child turned two, tragedy struck again. Old Liu’s entire family died horribly—apparently mauled by wild beasts, their internal organs gone. Even the infants died. Only Hua Chou survived. His facial features had already been completely destroyed in the fire—terrifying—and he couldn’t even make a sound. We all thought he was unlucky. We hurriedly buried Old Liu’s family and didn’t dare raise the child. We could only take turns giving him food each day to keep him alive.”

Uncle Wang sighed heavily, his expression growing even more solemn. “The child lived to five on the food we gave him—but that was when the nightmare truly began.”

“Livestock—cattle and sheep—often went missing, and bloodstains would always be found in Hua Chou’s courtyard. Everyone suspected it was him. The village chief worked up the courage to go in, but before he could even enter, he was blown out by a strange wind. After that, none of us dared approach Hua Chou again. And the village chief—after being blown away by that wind—was bedridden for three months before he recovered.”

Recalling the scene, Uncle Wang shivered again.

Rubbing his temples, Silver Wolf couldn’t help asking, “How is that possible? No matter how unlucky a child is, he couldn’t have such邪 arts. He’s not a battle-qi practitioner. How could he blow someone away?”

Besides, they had just seen Hua Chou. He was clearly an ordinary person—just with a strange aura that was hard to describe.

Uncle Wang nodded, frowning. “We didn’t believe it either. But that’s what happened. Still, when Hua Chou was six, a turning point came. That year, an injured old man—covered in blood—collapsed near our village. We were all afraid and didn’t dare go near him. But six-year-old Hua Chou carried the old man back to his home to treat him. We all thought the old man was beyond saving.”

“But to our surprise, the old man survived. Yes—he was Liu Han. After he recovered, he said this place was a once-in-ten-thousand-years treasure land and wanted to retire here. He also said Hua Chou possessed a yang-positive body, extremely suitable for forging and the like. We didn’t really understand. From then on, Hua Chou followed Liu Han in learning forging and even made weapons for us to fight wild beasts. So we all respected them greatly.”

Uncle Wang scratched his head and laughed honestly.

Silver Wolf snorted. “You don’t respect them. You respect Liu Han. You’re still afraid of Hua Chou, aren’t you?”

“Well…” Uncle Wang’s face darkened. He could only smile awkwardly, helpless. After all, even though Hua Chou hadn’t harmed anyone in all these years…

“Then where is this Liu Han now?” Silver Wolf asked.

Uncle Wang sighed and shook his head. “If you’d come a year earlier, you might have seen him. Sadly, Liu Han has already passed away.”

“What?! He died?!” Silver Wolf almost jumped up, eyes bulging. They had traveled thousands of miles to find Master Yinliang—and now he had disguised himself as Liu Han and died just like that? How could he die?!

Uncle Wang nodded solemnly. “Yes. A year ago, he went out with Hua Chou to purchase materials. When they returned, only Hua Chou came back—carrying an urn. He erected a grave for Liu Han and cried for three days and three nights. After that, Hua Chou still forged weapons for us, but he rarely spoke to anyone, exchanging forged weapons for food.”

Long fingers tapped lightly on the table. Frowning, Yuwen Zhiyuan asked softly, “Uncle Wang, you mentioned earlier that Hua Chou has a yang-positive body?”

“I think so. Liu Han said that back then. I don’t remember the details—his words were very profound—but he seemed very happy, saying he’d found a successor.”

Ling Ruoxi frowned. “Have you discovered something?”

Yuwen Zhiyuan nodded, tapping the table as he stood up. “Forging consumes immense vital essence and blood. To learn forging, one must be strong—ideally with a pure yang body, what Uncle Wang calls a yang-positive body. Such a person has all four pillars as yang. Their fate is destined to be full of twists and hardships—bringing death to parents, harm to friends—an isolated calamity star. But it’s precisely this baleful aura that allows them to forge the finest weapons in the world. Perhaps Yinliang took Hua Chou as his disciple for this reason—and that’s why he said he had found a successor.”

“Ah? That’s terrifying…” Silver Wolf swallowed hard and shuddered. “Becoming a forging master is even harder than becoming a battle-qi practitioner.”

Yuwen Zhiyuan nodded. “That’s right. Forging masters use their essence and blood to forge. Even a forty-year-old forging master may look eighty. Once their essence is exhausted, death is near. Yinliang died while going out to purchase materials—his death is clearly suspicious. Uncle Wang, did Hua Chou ever say how Yinliang died?”

Uncle Wang shook his head. “We don’t know. We only saw him bring back the ashes and bury them. We didn’t dare ask. Only villagers who had been helped by Liu Han would occasionally bring cold food to check on him.”

“So many people, and no one dared ask how he died? Even if Hua Chou were a magical beast, that’s too afraid, isn’t it?” Silver Wolf pursed his lips, completely unable to understand humans.

Qingyi tugged at Silver Wolf and asked softly, “Hua Chou still lives there, right?”

“Yes—but you’d better not go near him. He—”

“Let’s take a look.” They had thought they’d find reliable information here, but it was mostly the villagers’ own impressions—many exaggerated or unfounded.

Even someone with all four pillars as yang couldn’t possibly control the flow of heaven and earth.

“Oh right, Uncle Wang—have you seen any other outsiders recently? Like us?” Qingyi gestured. Tinghai had gone out and never returned. If he’d entered this place, someone should have noticed.

Uncle Wang shook his head. “No. Just you.”

A cold aura spread through the courtyard. The silent yard was devoid of flowers, even a single tree—desolate and bleak.

The tightly shut gate and sealed windows allowed no trace of breath to escape. With their Dou Qi suppressed here, it was difficult to act—unless they broke the naturally formed array of heaven and earth.

“Hua Chou, are you inside?” Silver Wolf knocked on the door until his hands hurt, but there was no response.

“Move aside—you’re a magical beast, yet useless.” Grabbing Silver Wolf’s collar, Qingyi acted decisively—bang!—kicking the door open with one blow.

Inside, the empty room held only a few tables and chairs. Two large beds stood in the bedroom, untouched. Clothes were folded neatly on the bed, as if the owner were still there.

At the front hung a painting of a sword. The incense in the burner was still warm. A memorial tablet stood upright, engraved with the words:

“Spirit Seat of My Esteemed Master, Liu Han.”

“So… he really is dead?” Seeing the tablet, Silver Wolf’s face darkened. The Master Yinliang they had come to find—had truly died like this?

Standing in the center, Luo Mingyu swept his dark gaze around and frowned. “The aura here is chaotic. This place isn’t suitable to stay long. Let’s leave first.”