Galaxy returned to Qin Zhou’s grasp.

Previously, he’d only wielded it within the game. Though he could converse with the artifact spirit then, the sensation wasn’t nearly this direct.

Heavy.

“Master, I’m not heavy!”

Qin Zhou startled at the voice that suddenly surged from his heart. But he quickly understood why.

The process of a divine artifact recognizing its master was very similar to that of a spirit beast. The only difference was that spirit beasts had their own language, while artifact spirits learned human speech.

Moreover, Galaxy’s rank was extraordinary.

It wasn’t surprising that he could communicate directly with it.

“Master, I am now brimming with power—enough to smash through Lu Yi’s barrier with a single blow!” Galaxy declared confidently.

“Couldn’t you break it earlier?”

The iron hammer seemed to droop instantly. “Because you’ve been gone too long, Master. Even hammers rust.” So it wasn’t that it wasn’t trying!

Rust? Not exactly.

“You’ve got a chip in your head,” Qin Zhou kindly pointed out.

A distinct corner was missing from the hammer. Galaxy’s surface was a shimmering blue-black dotted with starlight, but its striking face bore a gash as if scraped by something sharp. A closer look revealed that a small chunk was missing.

The entire hammer suddenly sprang from Qin Zhou’s hand, flying toward Wen Jue and bouncing around.

It was clear the hammer was cursing profusely.

But Wen Jue remained oblivious, merely turning to look at him. “What is it saying?”

Qin Zhou chuckled. “It says you treat it badly, smashing a chunk out of its head.” The Galaxy was an eighth-tier artifact, its hammer body exceptionally resilient. Generally speaking, it couldn’t be broken.

Wen Jue propped his chin up and chuckled, ”It is quite hard. It even cracked a corner of the sky.”

Qin Zhou recalled something he had mentioned earlier. It seemed he had been locked up somewhere because of that sky-cracking incident.

“Why did you smash the sky?”

“I smashed it because I felt like it.” Wen Jue evaded the question. “Why aren’t you leaving yet? I’ve returned the hammer to you. Aren’t you supposed to go back to forging artifacts?”

Since he didn’t want to talk about it, Qin Zhou didn’t press further. “It is time to go.”

He stood up and put away the stool.

Staying in the secret realm served no purpose for him.

Aware of his own limitations, Qin Zhou refrained from joining their body-retrieval mission.

Seeing him genuinely rise, Wen Jue felt a twinge of displeasure. So this trip was solely to retrieve Galaxy?

“Come out.”

“No.” Wen Jue sat in the quicksand, watching Qin Zhou beckon him. He turned his head away, refusing to look.

“Lu Yi.”

“…” Wen Jue glared at him, reluctantly sheathing his sword.

He leapt over the shifting sands, landing steadily before Qin Zhou.

“What do you want, Village Chief?” The last two words were spat out through gritted teeth. If this man hadn’t raised him, he would have…!

Qin Zhou ruffled his hair. “I’m returning to the village.”

Wen Jue snorted. “Why bother reporting to me…”

“Once you’ve handled these matters, you’ll return to the village too.”

Wen Jue: “Not going.”

Qin Zhou looked helpless. “Why not?”

“I’m not going on my own,” Wen Jue glanced at him. “I’ll only come if you summon me.”

Summon…

It took Qin Zhou only a second to grasp the crux: “It was Shisi who told you.”

“He was the first one you summoned. Is that true?”

Qin Zhou wanted to say his summoning key was gray, but he had no proof now. Even if he pulled out the roster right then, it would show as lit up.

Truly impossible to defend.

“…Fine. Next time, I’ll definitely summon you.”

Wen Jue stubbornly insisted, “Summon me, and I’ll come.”

“Alright.” Qin Zhou chuckled.

With that, Wen Jue brightened and waved him off. “You can go now.”

Qin Zhou didn’t move, merely touching his neck. An hour had passed, yet the bite mark hadn’t faded.

Noticing this, Wen Jue asked, “Still hurting?”

He hadn’t… bitten that hard, had he?

“Probably bruised,” Qin Zhou guessed.

“Let me see.” Wen Jue leaned in, pushing aside his collar.

Qin Zhou tilted his head back, letting him examine.

By the time Wen Jue realized his waist was being tightly encircled by arms again, escape was impossible.

Wen Jue: ??!!

“…” Yet again, this dizzying intimacy.

Qin Zhou’s arms encircled his waist. Even through the fabric, Wen Jue could feel the lean, taut muscles beneath.

“What are you—” Wen Jue stiffened. Did this man simply relish being stacked or pressed against like this?

“Just a hug.” Qin Zhou said, then lifted his hand lightly to release him.

Wen Jue, flushed with embarrassment and anger, snapped, “…You just come up and press against me without a word? Is that your foreigner’s way of greeting?”

Qin Zhou smiled. “No.”

Before Wen Jue could respond, Qin Zhou pressed a finger to his lips, even tracing them gently with his fingertip. “Where I come from, outsiders kiss when they part.”

Wen Jue froze in place. Kiss… kiss?!

He wasn’t sure if it was the touch on his lips or the utterly absurd words.

Qin Zhou thought, Enough teasing, and released his hand.

Before his hand could fall, Wen Jue grabbed it, his voice sharp and accusatory. “Do you kiss other people’s lips too?”

“No.”

Qin Zhou liked this possessiveness; it made him feel comfortable, both physically and mentally.

“This isn’t your hometown… Don’t go kissing people’s lips recklessly.” Wen Jue released his hand, his tone displeased.

Warned, Qin Zhou smiled and replied, “Alright.”

After a bit of bickering, Wen Jue still opened a portal to send him back—

“I set this barrier. Pass through this gate, and you’ll be back in the village.” If he let Tunfeng carry him back, it would take quite some time.

“Alright.”

“If you wish to travel between the Upper and lower realms again in the future, you must temporarily halt your cultivation advancement. After reaching the Nascent Soul stage, you will no longer be able to return to the lower realm in your true form.”

“Mhm.”

 ━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Qin Zhou ultimately departed the upper realm.

The stronger one’s cultivation base, the more severely they were restricted by the barrier.

Returning to the lower realm, Qin Zhou felt fine. Aside from the constricted spiritual energy—which gave him the sensation of returning to work in a smog-choked city—he experienced no discomfort.

However, pushing open his own courtyard gate, the spiritual energy washing over him brought Qin Zhou a slight sense of relief.

Ever since the Small Cultivation Mountain Village had been upgraded to Level Three, the spiritual energy emanating from the spiritual fields had grown even more potent than before.

But to rely solely on the spiritual energy from these fields to sustain the entire cultivation world was nothing short of wishful thinking.

Still, Qin Zhou had promised Wen Jue he’d find a solution for the spiritual energy issue, and he would shoulder that responsibility.

A thousand years would be ample time.

Qin Zhou first inspected the fields before heading to the blacksmith’s workshop.

The workshop wasn’t in his courtyard but stood as the village’s sole dedicated structure, typically used to forge weapons for villagers or metal tools for farming.

Back in the game, whenever Qin Zhou wasn’t crafting artifacts, he’d place Lu San inside the smithy.

Lu San possessed a natural talent for artifact forging. Placing him in the smithy often resulted in the “Experience +1” notification popping up.

Occasionally, Lu San would even craft farming tools to sell in town, earning a little extra cash.

When Qin Zhou was crafting treasures, he would also call Lu San to observe.

Both men were quiet by nature, so the forge was mostly filled only with the clanging of hammers striking iron.

Finally, they witnessed the birth of one treasure after another.

Now, standing before the forge, Qin Zhou felt a pang of nostalgia.

The shop window had been polished to a gleaming clean, the weapon rack by the door was spotless, and the path in front of the shop was swept clear of fallen leaves.

Seeing this, Qin Zhou paused in surprise.

Before the New Year, he had indeed asked Shisi and the others to tidy their own quarters, but he hadn’t expected them to clean the entire smithy as well.

Not only the smithy, but glancing to the side, Lu San’s small hut had also been swept clean.

It seemed that although Lu San hadn’t arrived yet, the brothers had still kept him in their thoughts.

Qin Zhou felt deeply gratified.

Qin Zhou pushed open the door. Light flooded into the smithy, and scenes from the game instantly materialized before his eyes.

He ran his hand over the forge, stroked the anvil, and surveyed the array of intricate tools scattered across the workbench.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

After a brief moment of nostalgia, Qin Zhou retrieved the Galaxy.

No time to waste—let’s get started.

Qin Zhou decided to warm up first.

With a seventh-tier Dao-Protecting Pill Furnace, he’d likely be stuck in the smithy for days.

Fortunately, as a Golden Core cultivator, he could go without food or drink.

Soon, wind swept through the village paths, smoke curled from the chimney, and the crisp clang of the anvil would ring out once more after nine thousand years.

 ━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

“Cleaned up. That’s pretty much everything.” Lu Qi handed him the spirit energy sphere. “Most people have left the secret realm. Hardly anyone’s coming in anymore. Feels like we can close it early this year.”

“Oh, okay.” Wen Jue took it mechanically.

Lu Qi frowned and nudged him. “What’s wrong with you?”

Wen Jue: “…I was thinking.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What’s the point of telling you? You’re just…” Wen Jue suddenly paused. Truth be told, Lu Qi really did have more experience with this than he did.

“Got a question for you.”

Lu Qi picked at his ear. “Ask.”

“Back when you liked Lu Er, did you ever feel like you wanted to stick to him like glue every single moment?”

Lu Qi’s expression darkened. “Are you picking a fight?”

Wen Jue waved his hand. “No, I’m just curious.” He cleared his throat, not wanting to mention the village elder always hugging him.

Lu Qi narrowed his eyes, studying him. Wen Jue’s gaze darted around, looking guilty.

Something’s up with this kid.

“Hmm, I was a bit clingy, I guess. When he taught me swordsmanship, didn’t I eagerly go every single day?“ Lu Qi’s irritation was practically written all over his face as he recalled the past. ”Back then, I thought that deadpan face was perfect in every way, but once the love faded, it was just that—nothing special.”

Wen Jue fell silent. Qin Zhou never said he was handsome either.

You couldn’t even see his face—what was there to find handsome?

“What else? During your most passionate phase… did you spend half the day clinging to each other?” Wen Jue pressed.

“Our most passionate phase?” Lu Qi pondered. “You mean cuddling in bed?”

“…”

In bed…

Clearly, this topic was beyond the scope of Lu Yi, who’d lived nearly ten thousand years as a celibate.

“When we were at our most passionate, we even had a son. What do you think?” Lu Qi stroked his eldest brother’s face and smiled. “I say, Lu Yi, is spring in the air? Could it be that you and the village chief… well, something’s brewing?”

“…No.”

“Did the village chief hug you?”

“…”

“Looks like he did,” Lu Qi chuckled.

Wen Jue: “…I didn’t tease you when you and Lu Er were all lovey-dovey.”

Lu Qi’s smile turned sinister. “Yeah. You didn’t tease me, but you sure did drape your arm around my shoulders constantly. You know how much that brooding, repressed guy tormented me because of you?”

Wen Jue:?

“He beat you up over that?” Wen Jue frowned.

Lu Qi: “…”

Forget it. What could he possibly say to Lu Yi?

This kid’s understanding of romance is on par with Shisi’s.

“Yeah, because of you, we’ve gotten into countless fights.” Lu Qi rolled his eyes. The kind on the bed.

“Qin Zhou can’t beat me.” Wen Jue blurted out suddenly.

Lu Qi chuckled.

Saying he was on the same level as Shisi was really doing Shisi a disservice.