"Brother Xuan, it doesn't look as chaotic as that director made it out to be. The shantytown should be fine, right?"
The two had reached the Lower City District. A quick look showed the streets were a little messy, but otherwise fine.
Lu Xuan also relaxed a little and smiled.
"Yeah, but let's still hurry back, just in case something unexpected happens... We can also let everyone know we're okay so no one worries."
"I just don't know how my dad is doing," Wu Xiaoxu said with sudden worry.
Lu Xuan fell silent for a moment. He couldn't help but recall the world-shaking flash of sword light from before, the massive, plummeting Ancient War Chariot, and that familiar voice.
Just as he was about to speak, his expression abruptly changed.
"That's..."
Wu Xiaoxu followed Lu Xuan's gaze. He saw flames soaring into the sky and heard a cacophony of shouts and cries. It wasn't far.
"Huh?" he said blankly. "Something's on fire... Wait, that's not right!"
A shiver ran down Wu Xiaoxu's spine. He stammered,
"That's... that's the shantytown?!"
Lu Xuan's expression shifted again. He snatched Wu Xiaoxu and, with the boy in tow, stomped his foot down hard!
BOOM!!
The ground cracked as a fierce shockwave erupted. His figure shot forward, kicking up a furious wind!
A journey that should have taken half an hour was crossed in a mere two or three minutes!
Stopping at the shantytown's entrance, the two boys gazed around in a daze. The air was filled with the sounds of weeping, wailing, the roar of flames, and the crash of collapsing wooden huts.
They walked numbly down the narrow street. The air was thick not only with the usual sour stench but also the heavy smell of something burning.
"It's... it's just ahead!" Wu Xiaoxu stammered, pointing toward the open ground in the center of the shantytown. Utterly bewildered, he whispered, "What in the world happened...?"
Lu Xuan said nothing, simply quickening his pace. He was there in moments.
He scanned the surroundings in a stupor. It felt as if something was caught in his throat; he wanted to speak, but no words would come out.
The muddy ground was covered in blood. Familiar neighbors were slumped everywhere, lost in shock. Some sobbed, some cried out, some pounded the earth, and others simply stared into space.
Houses on both sides had been set ablaze. Flames shot toward the sky, and with the sound of collapsing beams, waves of scorching heat rolled out.
The scene sent Lu Xuan into a trance. It was as if he was back seven years ago, back in Qianlong City.
"What in the world happened..." he muttered to himself. Watching the wooden houses burn, a fire began to kindle in his own heart.
"Lu... Lu the Kid?" A familiar, grief-stricken voice called out. It was Butcher Zheng.
Butcher Zheng was also slumped on the muddy ground, his face and body covered in blood. His legs were twisted at an unnatural angle, and Sister Zheng was nowhere to be seen.
Lu Xuan stumbled forward. For the first time in seven years, his face was a mask of pure panic.
"Uncle Zheng, you..."
Tears streamed down his cheeks.
"You're back..." Butcher Zheng didn't answer, just spoke in a daze. "It's good that you're back. It's good that you're back..."
"What the hell happened?!" Lu Xuan forced a low growl from his throat, his eyes turning red. "Sister Zheng... where is Sister Zheng?"
Butcher Zheng said nothing, only offering a wretched smile, his eyes devoid of light.
Nearby, a young man struggled to speak, answering,
"They burned our homes, stole our money, and abducted most of the women. They broke the legs of anyone who fought back, and... and..."
As he spoke, he glanced nearby, his eyes filled with anguish.
Lu Xuan instinctively followed his gaze. His pupils constricted.
"Fifth Grandpa!" he cried out in anguish.
The kindly old man was nailed to the wall of a ruined wooden hut, his legs blood-streaked and mangled. He was barely breathing.
The young man said in a daze,
"Those men dragged Xiaobao away to assault her. Fifth Grandpa crawled over to stop them, and then..."
Lu Xuan's nose stung with the threat of tears, and his hands and legs trembled uncontrollably.
'He knew Xiaobao. She was Fifth Grandpa's granddaughter. Every time she saw him, she would call out cheerfully, "Brother Xuan!" During the New Year, she would bring a small bowl of dumplings to every household, and the bowl she brought him always contained the largest ones.'
"Xiaobao was saved at that moment, but they took her away, too. I'm afraid her fate..." the young man said in a low voice.
Spasms of pain shot through Lu Xuan's chest. The horrors of seven years ago and today overlapped, crushing him like a great mountain.
'Why does it have to be like this...' Lu Xuan muttered to himself in a daze.
'Seven years ago, I had parents and grandparents. Life was peaceful and wonderful—three meals a day, a roof over my head... until the massacre.'
'Seven years later, my greatest joy was walking the long street of the shantytown, smelling the cooking fires, greeting my neighbors, and visiting their homes. We were poor, but we all smiled... until this fire.'
'All of it, man-made calamities...'
"The fire... put out the fire!" Butcher Zheng seemed to snap out of his stupor. He grabbed Lu Xuan's pant leg. "Hurry, put it out! The others... they still have to go on living! If the fire keeps burning, they'll have nowhere to live!"
"Right, right!" Lu Xuan wiped his tears and shook the stunned Wu Xiaoxu. "Put out the fire!"
The two stumbled off to find a water source, but where would they find one?
And even if they could, how could it possibly be enough to douse the raging inferno before them?
They ran to an undamaged hut, filled bucket after bucket with water, and hurled it into the blaze. But their efforts made no difference at all; the fire only grew stronger.
After a few trips back and forth, Wu Xiaoxu collapsed on the ground, wailing as if on the verge of a breakdown.
Lu Xuan cried with him, but as he cried, his tears lessened, until finally, they dried up completely.
"Put out the fire,"
he murmured.
'Standing in the open ground, his mind raced. There has to be a way... There must be a way...'
He looked up at the sky. There were dark clouds, but not enough moisture for it to rain.
"Moisture!"
As if remembering something, Lu Xuan held out his palm. He visualized the seventy-six Great Dao Texts and choked out the words:
"Mediation... of Creation!"
It had only been a little over a day since he had last used Mediation of Creation, and his spiritual energy was nowhere near recovered. But he didn't care. He forcibly overdrew his reserves, pushing himself to activate the Great Divine Technique.
A moment later, as Lu Xuan bent lower and lower, a single drop of dew materialized in his palm.
'I hope this works... It has to work.'
The rice produced by Mediation of Creation was Innate Rice. A single grain was as potent as a Great Medicine, releasing a vast, surging power when consumed.
'So, is this dewdrop also Innate Water?'
'Could Innate Water add enough moisture to the clouds overhead to cause a downpour?'
Lu Xuan took a deep breath, gripped the dewdrop, and with every ounce of his strength, hurled it at the sky.
The droplet shot skyward and vanished into the clouds.
He stared blankly at the sky and whispered,
"Rain... rain... Come on, rain!!"
"RAIN!!!"
It began to rain.
A torrential downpour that blotted out the sky.
The towering flames were beaten down, shrinking lower and lower until they vanished completely, leaving only wisps of blue-gray smoke rising from the charred timber.
The young man stood in the downpour, a hint of a joyous smile on his face. He smiled until his face was awash with a mixture of tears and rain, and then, his expression went blank.
At some point, a sword had appeared in his hand. Its blade was three-sided, with five segments and five rings.