82: Chapter 82 The Envoy's First Arrival, Mysterious Response

The morning light had just pressed against the eaves; the stone tiles in the forecourt of the Main Hall still glistened with the dampness of night dew.

Chen Wuwang stood on the lowest step. He wore no battle armor, nor was he draped in his Clan Chief robes; he was dressed simply in a black martial outfit, his silver hair tied back. His Mechanical Prosthetic Eye, on the left, held a cold gleam in the dim light.

Behind him, there was no one—no welcoming formation, no incense altars, no ceremonial music. There was only the wind, which swirled a few fallen leaves around before rolling them away along the ground.

Three breaths later, a fissure of Spiritual Qi tore open in the sky.

A gold-patterned flying carriage descended slowly, with bronze bells hanging from its four corners. With every chime, the ground trembled.

The carriage door opened, and an envoy from the great clans, dressed in purple robes, stepped out. He planted his boots on the stone steps with deliberate force, creating dull "thud, thud" sounds.

He looked around, his brows furrowing.

No one knelt to welcome him, no one announced his arrival, and there wasn't even a young attendant to serve tea.

In the direction of the Medicinal Field, the mist had yet to disperse, and several mechs patrolled at low altitude, their engine sounds steady as usual.

In the distance, white smoke rose from the chimney of the Artifact Refining Workshop, and the sound of metal clanging came in waves, as if someone were forging iron, yet also as if it were keeping some sort of rhythm.

This did not look like the scene of a disaster.

It looked even less like they were afraid of trouble.

The envoy's mouth twitched slightly. He bolstered his Aura and announced loudly, "The special envoy of the East Ling Zhao Clan has come under orders to investigate the strange phenomena in your clan's Medicinal Field. Is the Head of the Chen Family present?"

Chen Wuwang did not move; he only lifted his eyes.

"I am."

His voice was neither high nor low, like a stone tossed into a well—no echo could be heard, yet it made one's heart sink.

The envoy narrowed his eyes at him. He was young, with a cold and hard appearance. Three old scars ran across his right cheek, and the Mechanical Prosthetic Eye on his left emitted a faint, eerie glow; it was clearly no ordinary object.

Yet, this lone man, standing at the foot of the steps, gave him a strange illusion—it was not him investigating someone else, but rather, he himself was the one being investigated.

He suppressed the discomfort in his heart and stepped forward:

"I have heard that mutated spirit plants have appeared in your clan's Medicinal Field, causing Spiritual Qi to erupt and strange lights to flash from the roots. Such anomalies, if they involve ancient forbidden arts or infiltration by outside clans, must be reported immediately according to the Alliance covenant. Do not conceal them."

Chen Wuwang blew out a breath lightly and rubbed his fingertips against the hilt of the dagger at his waist, his movements as casual as if he were flicking off dust.

"The heavens and earth undergo changes, and vegetation flourishes in spring—what is so strange about that?"

The envoy was stunned.

"What did you say?"

"I said—" Chen Wuwang finally looked up, his gaze locking directly onto the envoy's. "Spring has arrived. The grass has grown, the buds have sprouted, the flowers have bloomed, and the leaves have turned green."

"If you insist on calling this a 'mutation,' then let me ask you: last year, when thirty-seven acres of spirit wheat died from drought, does that count as 'divine retribution'?"

"Last month, lightning struck an altar in the West Ridge—does that count as 'demonic disturbance'? Why didn't I see you send an envoy to 'investigate' then?"

He spoke slowly, every word clear, like a knife slicing through flesh piece by piece.

The envoy's expression shifted, and he said coldly, "Head of the Chen Family, do not try to avoid the serious issues by focusing on the trivial. According to our intelligence, an unknown organism has appeared deep within your Medicinal Field. It resembles flesh and blood, yet it is etched with traces of runes, and its Spiritual Qi fluctuations exceed the norm by more than three times. How can you brush off such an anomaly with the words 'flourishing in spring'?"

Chen Wuwang laughed.

It wasn't a cold laugh, nor was it a mocking one; he simply grinned, as if he had heard a joke.

"Oh? Your people really do look closely." He paused, his tone suddenly softening. "Since the envoy knows so much, why not just tell me directly—what does that thing look like? How many legs? How many heads? Can it speak? If it's really that powerful, why didn't it swallow your scouts on the spot?"

The envoy's pupils contracted.

Their intelligence indeed came from short-frequency scans by their scouts, but the details had never been leaked. That this man before him could turn the tables on him so easily showed he was clearly prepared.

He suppressed his anger and said sternly, "Head of the Chen Family, I have come out of concern for the safety of our allies, and to prevent disaster from spreading. If your clan truly has secrets, it would be better to be honest about them. Otherwise... the great clans will not let this rest."

The moment his words fell, the air seemed to freeze.

The clanging from the Artifact Refining Workshop in the distance suddenly stopped.

Three strikes.

"Clang—clang—clang—"

Crisp, rhythmic, like some sort of response.

Chen Wuwang slowly stood up, standing half a head taller than the envoy. He didn't speak, merely staring into the other man's eyes until the man's eyelids twitched slightly.

Then he spoke, his voice so low it was almost inaudible:

"Not let this rest?"

His lips curled up slightly, like the cold glint of a blade being drawn from its sheath.

"That depends on whether you can afford the price of flipping the table."

The envoy's breath hitched.

"Are you threatening me?"

"I am correcting you." Chen Wuwang turned, his back to him, and walked into the hall step by step. "You are not an imperial envoy from the Immortal Court; you have no inspection warrant. You are not an Elder of law enforcement; you have no authority to interrogate. You represent only a 'great clan,' while my Chen family—is now the co-leader of the Seven Clans Alliance. If you come to ask questions, I may answer; if you come uninvited, I can also throw you out."

He did not stop his pace, leaving only one final sentence:

"Please return. Next time you come, I cannot guarantee I will be this polite."

The envoy froze in place.

The light barrier of the flying carriage behind him had not yet been retracted, but he hesitated to move.

In his mind, he kept replaying those three metallic strikes—they were too precise, too coincidental.

They were not a coincidence; they were a signal. It was a pre-set response mechanism, a confirmation of a combat-ready state.

He had thought he could use his status to pressure them, force out some truth, and bring back intelligence for his superiors to decide upon.

But now... he felt as if he were the one being interrogated.

Chen Wuwang's figure disappeared before the door of the inner hall.

He remained where he was, his purple robes fluttering slightly in the wind, yet his palms were sweating.

A moment later, he turned abruptly, stepped onto the flying carriage, and shouted sharply, "Return! Full speed!"

A beam of Spiritual Qi tore through the sky, and the flying carriage sped away.

The forecourt returned to silence.

The wind swirled a few fallen leaves before rolling them away along the ground.

Chen Wuwang stood at the entrance of the inner hall, not looking back.

He tapped his right index finger gently against the doorframe.

Two short, one long.

Deep within the Artifact Refining Workshop, the red light in the eyes of a dormant mech flashed, then extinguished.

On the west side of the Medicinal Field, five zhang underground, ten dormant defensive mechs simultaneously entered a Level 1 standby state.

In the secret vault of the Main Hall, an encrypted log was automatically archived, titled: [First Record of External Pressure · Archived].

Chen Wuwang closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, blood-colored spirit patterns flashed in his pupils and vanished.

He knew this was only the beginning.

The great clans would not let this rest.

But they had made a mistake—they thought he was someone afraid of trouble and thus easy to manipulate.

But he had never been afraid of trouble.

What he feared was that the trouble was not big enough.