Mechanical Bird?
When Meng Qi first sensed the flying bird, he clearly hesitated for a moment. Its rough appearance, pitch-black body, wings lined with iron plates, and eyes seemingly forged from brass showed no trace of vitality. He nearly mistook it for a spectral bird from the Nine Nether Abyss. It wasn’t until Jiang Zhiwei identified it that he realized the truth—wasn’t it simply a mechanical bird crafted through the art of machinery?
In his own world, certain minor sects specialized in machinery techniques, capable of creating various traps and mechanical items, such as wooden oxen and horse-drawn carts, or even wingless flying birds. Yet Meng Qi had never seen a mechanical bird that could soar so freely in the sky!
Could this door be a portal? Had the two of them arrived near a minor sect skilled in machinery techniques?
The mechanical bird flew along the mountainside, soared into the clouds, and soon disappeared from Meng Qi and Jiang Zhiwei’s perception.
“A mechanical bird capable of such flight probably only existed in the Middle Ancient era and has long been lost…” Jiang Zhiwei frowned slightly.
Upon hearing this, Meng Qi’s mind immediately brimmed with wild thoughts. Could it be that the “Myriad Phenomena Gate” was a time portal, and the two of them had returned to the Middle Ancient era?
No, the world’s primordial energy before the Chaos of the Demon Buddha shouldn’t have been so thin…
He glanced at the village below and said with great interest, “Zhiwei, shall we go down and ask someone?”
After all, traveling was not only about honing one’s skills through combat, but also about gaining experiences and insights—traveling ten thousand miles and witnessing ten thousand things was better than merely reading ten thousand scrolls.
Meng Qi’s personality naturally inclined toward discovering the strange and novel.
Jiang Zhiwei was equally curious, smiling as she gazed at the rising smoke from the village below: “I wonder where we’ve ended up?”
The two did not descend immediately but instead turned back, flew into the crater, closed the Myriad Phenomena Gate, retrieved their tokens, and erased all traces.
Since they were unfamiliar with the local conditions, they stopped flying before reaching the foot of the mountain and walked toward the village.
Outside the village, many fertile fields had been cultivated. An elderly man, wearing a bamboo hat and with graying hair, stood on the edge of a field. Before him, several “wooden monsters,” likely mechanical oxen, pulled iron plows slowly, tilling the soil.
Occasionally, a mechanical ox would stop, whereupon the old man would quickly approach and twist its mechanism. Soon, the mechanical ox would creak and groan again, resuming its plowing. Similar scenes unfolded across many fields in the distance.
The old man wiped his sweat and returned to the field’s edge when he suddenly noticed a man and a woman approaching along the road. The man wore a green robe, carried a sword at his waist, had handsome features, and smiled warmly, exuding a relaxed and approachable aura. The woman wore a yellow dress, was radiant and graceful, and similarly carried a sword at her waist. The two walked side by side, their robes fluttering gently in the wind, as picturesque as a poem or painting.
Seeing Meng Qi and Jiang Zhiwei observing the farmland, the old man greeted them warmly: “Are you two visiting the village?”
Though the language had slightly changed, Meng Qi could still understand it—it seemed to have a common origin. He smiled: “Elder, you’re too kind. We’re just passing through. Seeing everyone so busy and the farming so lively, we couldn’t help but stop and watch.”
The old man chuckled: “You’re curious about these mechanical oxen?”
He smacked his lips proudly: “These were improved by Xie Maocai from our village. They’re much better than the old, clumsy mechanical oxen! At just sixteen, he passed the Maocai examination. Many virtuosos and nobles in the state city praised him for his craftsmanship, saying he was uniquely gifted and destined to become a true master of machinery.”
A master of machinery? Meng Qi and Jiang Zhiwei exchanged glances; this place indeed specialized in machinery techniques.
“Xie Maocai truly has extraordinary talent,” Meng Qi praised in agreement.
The old man beamed as if the compliment had been directed at him. Suddenly, catching sight of someone from the corner of his eye, he shouted loudly: “Xie Maocai! Xie Maocai! There are guests here asking for you!”
It was a boy of about sixteen or seventeen years old, wearing a headscarf and a black robe. His face was round and his expression focused as he helped a farmer repair a mechanical ox.
Upon hearing the old man’s call, he put down his tools and ran over with heavy steps. A brownish-yellow puppy followed closely behind him.
One of the puppy’s legs was made of wood, seemingly an artificial limb, yet it seemed to have little effect on its running speed.
Xie Maocai stopped beside the old man, feeling quite shy in front of the two guests who looked like immortals:
“Are you looking for me?”
“We heard the elder mention Maocai and wanted to meet a genius in machinery techniques,” Meng Qi chuckled.
Xie Maocai scratched his head: “Where, where? It was just a lucky break.”
His face slightly flushed red, he couldn’t help but smile, clearly delighted by the compliment.
“My surname is Xie, and my given name is Xian. May I ask the names of the two guests?” he politely inquired.
Meng Qi smiled: “My name is Su Meng, and this is my good friend Jiang Zhiwei.”
Just as Xie Xian was about to respond, a Taoist-clad man approached. He looked to be in his early twenties, carrying a peach-wood sword. To Meng Qi, whose perception had already merged with the heavens and earth, the man’s every move was predictable, and he carried about a dozen talismans.
“Did you come down from Foggy Fire Mountain?” the man asked, his tone not particularly friendly.
Suddenly, he found the young man before him smiling warmly, exuding approachable charm, and his tone unconsciously softened: “There are evil spirits up there; don’t try to take shortcuts.”
“Evil spirits?” Jiang Zhiwei asked in confusion.
The two of them had sensed no trace of evil spirits while on the mountain. Could they have been scared into hiding?
The old man hurriedly said: “You two guests may not know—two years ago, an evil spirit emerged from Foggy Fire Mountain.”
Seeing that the old man wasn’t getting to the point, Xie Xian glanced at the Taoist man and then clearly explained: “Foggy Fire Mountain produces Solar Godstone, which has long been controlled by several major sects and our Ink Palace. However, it has been mined since ancient times, and the Solar Godstone has gradually become scarce.”
“Two years ago, during deep excavation, an evil spirit was unearthed from the magma. It killed everyone and stole a large amount of Solar Godstone. It has since frequently appeared, and even several nobles have died here. Only after a Celestial Master and a Sect Elder arrived did it disappear without a trace.”
“During that time, we could hear ghostly wails from the mountain every night.”
Meng Qi wanted to rub his nose. From the description, the evil spirit was likely Zeluo Ji, causing quite a commotion.
However, this place was indeed interesting. Its machinery techniques were far more advanced than those in his own world, and there were also Taoist lineages, cultivators, Celestial Masters, and rare treasures…
“I see,” Meng Qi casually replied, “We didn’t cross Foggy Fire Mountain; we only went around its edge.”
“Yes, the Solar Godstone on Foggy Fire Mountain has been completely exhausted. I can’t stop others from going up, but if you encounter an evil spirit, you’ll have to rely on your own luck,” the Taoist man said with obvious resentment.
Ever since the sects and the Ink Palace abandoned the exhausted Foggy Fire Mountain, many people hoping for rare encounters had gone up, refusing to be dissuaded until they saw the evil spirits with their own eyes.
Meng Qi half-jokingly said: “I’m not afraid of evil spirits. It’s usually the evil spirits that fear us. I even have a nickname—’Evil Spirit Bane.'”
“Evil Spirit Bane, huh…” the Taoist man gave a fake smile, bowed, and left.
A few steps away, his low muttering reached Meng Qi’s ears: “Evil Spirit Bane? Don’t let the wind blow your tongue out! Only cultivators from our sect and machinery masters from the Ink Palace can claim to be Evil Spirit Baners. Can a mere martial artist dare to say that?”
The man with the metal sword clearly was a martial artist!
Why would I lie to you? That evil spirit has already been killed by me… Meng Qi “innocently” watched the Taoist man’s retreating figure.
At that moment, four mechanical horses made of iron and wood, pulling a carriage, rolled out from the village. They stopped beside the Taoist man, and the driver respectfully said: “Master Ouyang, aren’t you heading to the state city?”
Master Ouyang lightly nodded and boarded the carriage.
The carriage rolled down the road, and the driver chuckled as he looked at Xie Xian: “Little Maocai, hurry up and get on. Don’t miss the Virtuoso Examination in the state city.”
“The Virtuoso Examination?” Meng Qi smiled, feigning surprise.
The driver chuckled: “Guest, you may not know. He passed the Maocai exam in the county’s Ink Palace at sixteen. In our state, he’s considered a top-tier genius in machinery techniques. Now, within less than a year, he’s preparing for the Virtuoso Examination in the state city. Amazing…”
Xie Xian blushed with pride, lowered his head, and bid farewell.
Meng Qi and Jiang Zhiwei exchanged glances, both seeing the strong interest in each other’s eyes. Meng Qi then bowed: “We two are also heading to the state city. May we hitch a ride with you, brother?”
Seeing their refined appearances, polite manners, and distinguished demeanor, the driver patted the tail of the mechanical horse and cheerfully replied: “Sure thing!”
Xie Xian picked up the puppy, stroked its fur, and whispered: “You can’t go far now. Stay home and behave. Remember to listen to Uncle and Auntie… If I become a Virtuoso and learn better machinery techniques, I’ll install a mechanical wooden leg for you, one that can travel far!”
The puppy whined, reluctant to part, until the carriage rolled away before returning home, where other machinery masters came to repair the broken mechanical oxen.
The carriage was spacious inside. Meng Qi and Jiang Zhiwei sat on one side, while Master Ouyang and Xie Xian sat on the other.
Meng Qi took the initiative to strike up a conversation, sharing interesting stories that didn’t reveal their identities or origins. Soon, the atmosphere became warm and friendly, and even the somewhat arrogant Master Ouyang joined in.
Just as the conversation was getting lively, the carriage slowly came to a stop, foiling Meng Qi’s plan to extract more information. Sometimes, he really felt that using mental suggestion would be much simpler and faster. However, since he was still unfamiliar with the local situation and faced with an Ink Palace Maocai and a disciple of a major sect, he dared not recklessly use such methods.
Stepping out of the carriage, Meng Qi suddenly froze. Not far away, a long, iron-black mechanical vehicle stood, resembling a giant snake or dragon, seemingly capable of carrying many passengers.
Watching silently as Xie Xian and Master Ouyang paid with copper coins, Jiang Zhiwei immediately understood and took out a small piece of silver. As the driver repeatedly thanked her, she handed it over.
Then the two followed Xie Xian and Master Ouyang to the mechanical vehicle, exchanging silver for two thin slips of paper from a man in a dark green robe.
“Ink Vehicle.”
“From Foggy Fire County to Yongzhou City.”
“Estimated travel time: two hours and fifteen minutes.”
Looking at the slip of paper, Meng Qi didn’t know how to describe his expression.
The mechanical vehicle’s windows were clean and clear, with seats facing each other and tables in between.
After Meng Qi and the others sat down and waited for a while, the vehicle grew centipede-like legs and sped along the road, occasionally climbing mountains.
Strangely, although such running should have been very bumpy, the mechanical vehicle felt completely smooth, with only slight ripples in the tea on the table.
“Machinery techniques make daily life comfortable and convenient. Truly impressive,” Meng Qi silently conveyed to Jiang Zhiwei.
Jiang Zhiwei thought for a moment and replied: “Before the Chaos of the Demon Buddha, our world probably had similar things as well. In the Middle Ancient era, the ‘Sage of Artifacts’ was the master of machinery techniques. It is said that he created flying ships and various strange and wonderful devices. However, after that great calamity, the knowledge was lost.”
At that moment, someone walked from the back to the front, wearing a plain robe and carrying a long case on his back, exuding a cold and sharp aura.
Master Ouyang’s expression slightly changed as he whispered: “Sword case.”
“Flying sword…” Xie Xian was both excited and fearful.
Seeing this person, Meng Qi furrowed his brows. Using the eyes of a “street fortune teller” to observe, this person’s karma was entangled with ominous qi, likely signaling some misfortune.
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