Falling in Love with a 500-year-old female elder

Chapter 47: The Enigma of Heavenly Tower’s Resurgence

“Golden armored warriors, pay respects to the young master!!!”

A spectacle unfolded: a hundred golden armored warriors knelt before Ning Chuan, their synchronized movements accompanied by a resounding chorus. The collective speech of a hundred echoed, reverberating through the sky and overwhelming all other sounds. Onlookers in the Seven Blessings Inn, including the flashy young man, found themselves stunned into gaping silence. Their expressions were etched with shock as they witnessed an entire hundred true self peak powerhouses addressing Ning Chuan as “Young Master.”

Ning Chuan’s countenance barely shifted; he had anticipated the arrival of the Golden Armored Warriors, though the timing caught him off guard. Nevertheless, he was about to speak when an abrupt gust of wind sounded from above.

Strong air currents forced people to shield their faces, and an immense blue bird with a wingspan surpassing 100 meters descended from the heavens. But upon closer inspection, the massive avian creature was crafted from dark wood, meticulously and lifelike in its construction.

Unsettling amazement seized the crowd as the colossal bird came to a halt outside the Seven Blessings Inn, where ten elderly men, draped in starry Taoist robes and exuding the air of Fenghou Realm, disembarked.

“The contemporary Patriarch Yun Jizi of the Mohist institution, pays respects to the young master!”

Leading the troupe, the foremost elderly man executed a sweeping gesture, followed by a synchronized bow from the remaining nine, whose appearances mirrored his own.

“The Mo family delegation pays respects to the young master!!!”

Their voices, deep and resounding, momentarily seized the once bustling inn. The scene resembled a suspended tableau, with listeners riveted by the extraordinary occurrence.

A full ten breaths later, the spell shattered. An incredulous voice broke the silence, “Old… Old Chen, pinch me. Is this all a dream?”

Beside the speaker, a companion obliged, their firm grip eliciting a yelp. “Ouch! Gently, Old Chen! It’s painful!”

The animated exchange rekindled the crowd, as wide-eyed patrons struggled to comprehend the spectacle before them. A hundred peak Zhenwu Realm warriors, followed by ten formidable Fenghou Realm figures, collectively addressing Ning Chuan as “Young Master.” This astonishing revelation reset their understanding of Ning Chuan.

“Mo family representatives are here too?”

Ning Chuan’s brow furrowed, but a smile graced his lips. His grand plan for the Heavenly Tower was gaining momentum.

The once-arrogant young master, who had clamored for attention earlier, stood frozen in place, his demeanor chastened. With exaggerated haste, he abandoned the table strewn with coins, fleeing the scene like a startled rabbit.

His stout and robust attendants followed suit, sneaking away on tiptoe, as if traversing thin ice.

Ning Chuan, observing their hasty departure, shook his head with a bemused smile. He had ascended to the third level of Confer King, far beyond the need to engage with such minor provocations.

Yet, another query beckoned his attention. “Everyone, please rise.”

Turning to the still-kneeling gold-armored warriors and mechanical experts, Ning Chuan directed them to the inn’s backyard.

“Affirmative, General!”

“The Mo family acknowledges!”

With nods of confirmation, the warriors and mechanists made their exit.

After their departure, Ning Chuan shifted his gaze to the subdued young master, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “So, earlier you mentioned serving me with a stick?”

A visible chill seized the young master; his confident façade crumbled, replaced by anxiety. “Ah? Er… That’s not what I meant, Mr. Ning. I was addressing those beneath us. You’ve surely misunderstood.”

In response, Ning Chuan continued to blink innocently, his tone playful. “You’re suggesting my hearing might be faulty?”

Swish! The young master’s visage drained of color; he resembled a rabbit cornered by a predator. His voice trembled as he hastened to explain, “No, not at all, Mr. Ning! There’s been a misunderstanding. Truly!”

As empathy for the young master prevailed, Ning Chuan softened, curbing his jests. “Very well, proceed with your business. Return in a couple of days if you seek a tale. For now, let me enjoy my rest.”

With newfound relief, the young master swiftly retreated, abandoning his coin-strewn proposition.

Ning Chuan watched his departure, shaking his head fondly.

Left in solitude, he headed towards the inn’s backyard.

As he exited, whispers filled the inn. Diners debated the origins of Ning Chuan, awestruck by his interactions with the golden-armored warriors and Fenghou Realm delegates.

On the inn’s second floor, Nan Yuexi gazed at the unfolding spectacle.

“One hundred Zhenwu peak warriors…”

“Ten Marquis Peak Realm cultivators…”

Nan Yuexi exhaled deeply, her gaze pensive.

This assembly of martial prowess—akin to that of the Great Yan Dynasty or select first-class sects—conjured thoughts of the Heavenly Mystery Tower. Could it be on the precipice of unveiling itself once more to the world?

Nan Yuexi’s mind churned with speculation, her curiosity piqued by the implications of this extraordinary gathering.