60: Chapter 60: A Grand Banquet, Yet Undercurrents Flow

Just as he set down his wine cup, Chen Wuwang's fingertips lightly tapped the edge of the table three times.

It wasn't the rhythm of a toast, nor was it a secret code for the workshop—it was the precursor to a System refresh.

He calmly withdrew his hand, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye flashing with a faint light as it activated micro-scan mode.

Pupil reflection frequency, respiratory fluctuations, the pulsing of neck vessels...

Every minute change in Aelia was decomposed into a data stream and quietly archived deep within his consciousness.

"This Spirit Grain Brew of yours has a kick stronger than the Fire Dragon Paste from the western reaches of the Star Domain."

Aelia smiled and raised her glass, her finger tracing a circle around the rim. "The entry is rough, but the aftertaste is heavy, much like the path your Chen Family has taken these past few years—at first, no one believed in it, but as you kept walking, no one dared to block you."

Chen Wuwang curled his lip. "When the living drink wine, they're looking for satisfaction. Anything too refined fails to suppress the fire in one's heart."

Her smile deepened. "So you'd rather roast Yao Beast meat and gnaw on coarse grain rice than lay out a table of Spirit Fruits and Immortal Brews?"

"Those things don't raise warriors." He picked up a bowl and took a swig. "These men of mine were fighting for their lives yesterday; sitting here eating and drinking today is already a massive honor. Any more fastidiousness, and they'd start getting ahead of themselves."

As his voice fell, he looked up and stared at her.

Aelia didn't dodge; instead, she met his gaze, her eyes as clear as if they could reflect a person's soul.

But in that instant, Chen Wuwang captured a 0.3-second contraction in her right pupil—extremely slight, as if pricked by something invisible.

It wasn't an emotional fluctuation.

It was an instinctive reaction to information overload.

His heart skipped a beat.

This woman wasn't listening to a story; she was decoding.

He deliberately slowed his tone: "Speaking of which, you Angel Race travel far and wide and are very knowledgeable. What do you think is the most eye-catching thing about our stockade?"

Aelia's movement of picking up food paused for half a beat.

"Eye-catching?" She chuckled. "If we're talking about eye-catching, it's naturally those iron lumps—that row of turrets that went off in the river valley last night made quite a commotion."

"Anything else?"

"And..." Her gaze swept over the conduit emitting blue smoke at the edge of the training grounds. "That thing is like a living pulse, connecting the entire stockade into one. It doesn't look like a Formation; it's more like some kind of... regularly operating machine."

Here it comes.

Chen Wuwang tapped his fingers on the table twice more.

Three short, two long.

A second later, a low-frequency hum came from the direction of the workshop—the defense protocol had been activated.

Only then did he say leisurely, "You're half right. It does have a rhythm, but it's not a machine."

"Then it is?"

"It's a heartbeat." He pointed to his own chest. "The heartbeat of every one of us, plus the vibration frequency of the mechas, the flow of psionic energy, and the rhythm of the Formations—it's all encoded into a set of operational rules. It breathes, it gets tired, and it even loses its temper. If you mess with it, it goes on strike."

Aelia's eyes lit up. "So your 'Iron Beasts' can really follow human commands?"

"It's not humans they follow." He shook his head. "It's the rules. Whoever breaks them will suffer the backlash."

The two stared at each other for a moment; neither backed down.

The wind swept across the long table carrying the scent of wine. The clansmen ate with their heads down, no one noticing how tense this meal had become.

Chen Wuwang suddenly stood up and walked to the edge of the field to adjust the seat for a young clansman.

The movement was natural, like a Family head caring for a subordinate.

But the moment his back was to Aelia, his silver hair falling to hide his profile, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye pulled up the playback function—

The footage of her touching the inscription marks on the bottom of the seat three times was replayed frame by frame.

The first time: a tentative light touch to confirm the material;

The second time: her finger pad sliding along the runes, as if reading the structure;

The third time: her middle finger pressing down slightly at a certain node for 0.8 seconds—that was the 'Point Vibration Method' commonly used for cracking Formations.

Too professional to be a merchant.

More like... a technology hunter.

His footsteps paused as alarm bells rang in his heart.

She wasn't here to talk business.

She was here to scout him out.

Returning to the main seat, he raised his cup again with a warm smile. "A distinguished guest has come from afar; you should enjoy yourself to the fullest. Another round?"

Aelia also raised her cup, her eyes curved in a smile. "I had the same thought."

Before the wine touched his lips, he whispered to the messenger beside him: "Notify all workshops to double the shifts tonight. No technical area is to be opened without my handwritten talisman order."

The messenger nodded and withdrew.

Chen Wuwang then looked at Aelia with a smile. "You said earlier that you've traveled through three hundred and twenty-seven Star Domains?"

"Mhm."

"What have you seen?"

"I've seen warships that use stars as fuel, and I've seen hive-minds that evolve by devouring civilizations." She said slowly, "But what interests me most are those families that rise from the ruins—fewer resources, more enemies, yet they somehow survive the longest."

"For example?"

"For example, you all." She looked directly at him. "Three years ago, the Eastern Wasteland was a mess of loose sand; now? Even the people from the Blood Demon Sect take the long way around. You didn't rely on a few iron lumps; you relied on your brain."

Chen Wuwang didn't take the bait, only saying indifferently, "Brains aren't worth much. What's valuable is life."

"But what life can exchange for is often just survival." She leaned forward slightly. "Whereas you, you're already building an order."

The air went still for a moment.

He stared at her and suddenly laughed. "Do you know why I'm willing to treat you to roasted meat and strong wine in this dilapidated training ground?"

"Why?"

"Because here it's dirty, messy, and noisy, but every inch of ground has two words written on it—'Mine'." His voice wasn't loud, but it struck the ground like a nail. "I'm not afraid of you looking; I'm just afraid you won't understand. And if you do understand, don't even think about taking it."

Aelia's smile didn't fade, but her fingertip traced an arc on the wall of the cup—that was a recording gesture known only within merchant caravans.

He saw it again.

He sneered inwardly.

This woman spoke of admiration, but her hands were busy stealing secrets.

He stopped testing and asked directly, "What exactly do you want to see?"

"I want to see how this System of yours operates." She was candid. "Especially—whether it can be replicated."

"It can't." He answered curtly. "It's grown from the ley lines of the Chen Family, built upon the lives of our generation. You want to copy it? You can't."

"What if I want to cooperate?"

"Cooperate?" He scoffed. "You don't even know which way the workshop door opens; what cooperation is there to talk about?"

"Then why don't you take me to see it now?"

"The meal isn't finished yet." He shook his head. "What's the rush?"

"I'm not in a rush." She smiled. "But I'm afraid of missing out."

"Missing what?"

"Missing the starting point of a revolution." Her eyes were burning. "Chen Wuwang, you aren't cultivating immortality; you are creating a god. And what I want to do is make this 'miracle' appear in more places."

Chen Wuwang was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "Do you know how many people died when we repelled the Three-Clan Coalition last night?"

She shook her head.

"Zero."

"Oh?"

"I didn't let them go to their deaths." He said slowly. "I used mechas to block blades for them and Formations to kill for them. I'd rather spend ten more years if it means my clansmen live a little longer."

"So?"

"So." He stared at her. "If the 'more places' you bring involves using other people's lives for trial and error—then we have nothing to talk about."

Aelia finally withdrew her smile.

The atmosphere between the two suddenly sank.

After a moment, she said softly, "My mother died in a trade war. She could have escaped, but she chose to stay behind to protect a group of children."

Chen Wuwang didn't speak.

"From that day on, I understood." She looked up. "Merchants don't just calculate accounts; they must also uphold the Dao."

He looked at her for a long time, then suddenly said, "Since there's nothing to do after the meal, how about I show you how our 'Iron Beasts' are made?"