A Full Bowl of Toxic Chicken Soup

"What the hell is going on now?"

Fang Zaowu glanced around, his eyes burning with irritation.

These days, he had been obsessively tinkering with the engine of a carriage, so busy that he wished he had four hands. He didn’t even dare waste time while riding the spirit vessel.

Originally, he had planned to use the trip transporting Junior Brother Xiao’s waterproof materials to refine his design sketches.

But no—once again, he was interrupted.

His train of thought shattered, Fang Zaowu’s gaze turned icy, sharp enough to sprout blades!

"Which damn fool is making all this noise?!"

The laborers on the spirit vessel didn’t dare respond, only awkwardly pointing toward the sky.

Before Fang Zaowu could even look up, a thunderous roar echoed overhead.

"Audacious! How dare you disrespect this venerable one!"

Frowning, he raised his eyes and saw an old man and a young man hovering midair.

The elder appeared around fifty, streaks of white visible at his temples.

The younger one looked barely twenty, with the delicate features of a pretty boy.

Not only did they share a resemblance, but they also had the same insufferable air of self-importance, posturing like masters as they looked down on him from above.

Just when he’d finally made some progress, these two clowns had to ruin it.

Fury boiling over, Fang Zaowu unleashed a torrent of curses, his mastery of profanity instinctive!

"Where the hell did you two idiots crawl out from? Got nothing better to do than play bandit? Piss off! Damn it, if you wanna play house, go do it somewhere else!"

Not even bothering to look at their faces any longer, Fang Zaowu flicked his sleeve.

Before the father and son could react, they were caught in the heart of a storm!

The next moment, the wind howled across the heavens.

"Whoosh!"

Two figures were swept away by the gale, transformed into shooting stars once more.

The whole thing was as effortless as swatting flies, leaving only a dazzling arc in their wake as they vanished into the distant horizon—a rather poetic sight...

The spirit vessel resumed its journey, the minor incident already forgotten.

Tens of thousands of miles away.

Two streaks of light plunged into a river, sending waves soaring hundreds of feet high!

"SPLASH!!!"

Father and son were driven deep into the water, buried several feet into the black silt. Only when the terrifying force finally dissipated did they manage to stop themselves, scrambling out of the river in sheer terror.

Another spray of water erupted.

Two drenched figures landed on the riverbank, their faces paler than drowned rats.

Xiong Zhong felt his blood churning violently, his entire body trembling uncontrollably, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

His furious eyes turned toward his father.

"Father!"

"You said there were no more experts left! What the hell was that?!"

Xiong Fen’s face darkened, ignoring the filth clinging to him as his widened eyes burned with humiliation.

"Are you questioning me?"

His deep voice boomed like thunder, stirring gusts of wind around them.

Xiong Zhong flinched, lowering his head in fearful deference.

"I-I wouldn’t dare…"

"But this… this is just too strange!"

"You said it yourself—there shouldn’t be many experts left on Yunxing! So why do we keep running into them? One failure after another, are we really this unlucky?"

"You promised things would turn around—so when the hell is that gonna happen?!"

Xiong Fen didn’t scold him, instead falling into thought. Because, admittedly, this was getting odd.

But no matter how he looked at it, the barren planet of Yunxing couldn’t possibly harbor so many experts. Otherwise, the Ancient Corridor wouldn’t have been sealed for a hundred thousand years, and the Moon God Pavilion wouldn’t have needed to send reinforcements back then.

There was only one explanation for their repeated failures…

Yunxing might have a handful of experts, but they just happened to run into them—every single time!

Xiong Fen’s eyes gleamed with the wisdom of experience.

"Perhaps… our luck really is just that bad."

He then softened his tone, offering comfort.

"My son, in life, eight or nine out of ten things go wrong. A couple of failures are nothing unusual. Sure, we’ve run into the few experts Yunxing has, and yes, our luck is abysmal. But from here on out, we won’t meet any more."

"After all, Yunxing can’t have more than a handful of experts. We’ve already met two—there’s no way we’ll run into another."

"Third time’s the charm. The divine weapon and the beauty are right within our grasp! Are you really going to give up such treasures just because of two setbacks?"

"You must steel your resolve and press forward! Not just for this mission, but for your entire path of cultivation!"

His words brimmed with conviction, stirring Xiong Zhong’s blood.

A full pot of motivational soup, gulped down in one go!

Visions of his dreams flashed before him—not just the long-desired Qing Yin Xianyun, but also the path of a king overlooking all creation!

The more he pondered his father’s words, the more profound they seemed.

Yunxing was a backward, isolated planet. At most, it had a few experts—they’d already met two. What were the odds of running into another?

The more he thought, the firmer his resolve grew. Xiong Zhong gritted his teeth.

"You’re right, Father! We can’t give up now!"

"Third time’s the charm—we won’t stay unlucky forever!"

"Next time we face an enemy, we’ll observe carefully before acting."

Seeing his son’s growth, Xiong Fen felt a swell of pride.

"Good, good!"

"A fall into the pit, a gain in your wit. With such caution, your mindset has matured. Once you wield that divine weapon, you’ll ascend even further!"

Despite their misfortunes, the two found renewed vigor, their spirits lifted.

Regrouped, they tore through the void once more!

Within moments, they passed over a valley and spotted a group of Yunxing natives battling scattered demonic creatures.

A single glance told them everything.

The Yunxing natives were pathetically weak, mere ants in their eyes.

The demons were equally feeble, mindless puppets at best.

The skirmish might have looked fierce, but from their vantage point, it was no better than chickens pecking at each other. They lost interest almost instantly, not even bothering to reveal themselves.

Normally, the two wouldn’t spare these weaklings a second thought—nothing of value could come from them.

But Xiong Zhong felt a flicker of curiosity.

"Father, why don’t we question these people? We can gather intel on Yunxing’s situation and maybe snatch a few trinkets. Doesn’t matter if they’re good—it’s about starting fresh with some good luck!"

After so many failures, Xiong Fen nodded slightly.

"Mm. A sound plan."

No wonder they were turning to superstition—their luck had been so rotten that even a small morale boost and some petty loot sounded appealing.

Having made their decision, the two descended from the void.

But before their feet could touch the ground, they sensed a spirit vessel streaking across the distance—blazing like a meteor, impossibly fast!

That speed… it felt eerily familiar.

Extending their spiritual senses, the father and son froze, their faces tightening.

In an instant, the vessel appeared overhead, and standing at its bow was none other than—Fang Zaowu!

Hovering stiffly above the battlefield, the two were paralyzed by the sight, the terrifying memory of their earlier defeat flashing through their minds like a lightning strike.

"Why him?!"

"It’s him! The one who sent us flying into the river! How did we run into him again?!"

Their expressions darkened, trapped between fight and flight.

Never in their wildest dreams had they imagined encountering this Yunxing expert once more.

This… this was just too unlucky!

Before they could decide their next move, another streak of light shot toward the vessel.

A warrior-like figure, long hair flowing, gripping a dagger.

The newcomer was Xiao Zhan.

The moment they caught sight of the sharp dagger, the terror in the eyes of both father and son became indescribable. Even Xiong Fen, the seasoned elder of the Moon God Pavilion who had weathered countless storms, widened his eyes in shock at this very instant!

Thud!

Another one bites the dust.