"Don't worry about how powerful it is. Just know it's very powerful—beyond imagination. Higher than... well, okay." Sun Shouwu paused, glancing at Liu Wei'an's skeptical look, then added seriously, "Ever heard of immortals? Like in ancient Chinese mythology? They can move mountains and drain seas with a flick of the wrist, dim the sun and moon. Once someone masters the Ancient Scripture, that's basically the effect—pluck stars with bare hands, cross galaxies with a mortal body—"
"I get it. It's incredible," Liu Wei'an interrupted. "But what does this have to do with you?"
"Everything," Sun Shouwu said dramatically, swinging his arm. "Think about it—the Six Great Families, and people like us, have been in balance for centuries. Everyone knows what cards each side is holding. But what happens if someone gets their hands on the Ancient Scripture?"
"The balance is broken?" Liu Wei'an began to catch on.
"Exactly. And once that balance is shattered, the whole game resets. Chaos will erupt, blood will flow, and in the end, it's always the common people who suffer the most." Sun Shouwu wore a sorrowful expression, as if mourning the world.
What an act. Liu Wei'an rolled his eyes internally. He'd never believe Sun Shouwu cared so much. His sanctimonious face almost made him sick.
"So, I have to stop the ambitious ones from getting their hands on it," Sun Shouwu said, noticing Liu Wei'an's disbelief and coughing awkwardly. "Of course, I won't deny it—there's also some personal curiosity. I'd love to see what this legendary scripture actually looks like."
"And then?"
"Then it turned into an all-out chase. Every man for himself. Those who had it fled, those who didn't gave chase. Battles broke out nonstop—people died left and right. We ran from the northeast to the west, then south to north. It changed hands several times—"
"And ended up here in Stone City?" Liu Wei'an asked. He hadn't realized before, but Sun Shouwu was quite the chatterbox.
"How'd you know?" Sun Shouwu looked at him, startled.
"You guys brought in a whole damn army. Even a blind man could tell something was up," Liu Wei'an scoffed.
"Was it that obvious?" Sun Shouwu chuckled sheepishly. "Okay, yeah, after a few months of this, everyone got tired of being sneaky. And honestly, it was impossible to hide anyway. In the end, we tracked it to Stone City. But then—poof—it vanished."
"Vanished? What do you mean?" Liu Wei'an frowned.
"No one knows." Sun Shouwu looked genuinely frustrated.
"What do you mean 'no one knows'?"
"I mean it's just gone. Maybe someone dropped it, maybe a tiger ran off with it, maybe it got destroyed. Nobody knows. But most people think someone must've taken it quietly. The Zhao family suspects the Liu family. The Liu family suspects the Wang family. Everyone's pointing fingers."
"Or maybe someone from Stone City stumbled upon it by chance?" Liu Wei'an offered, though his heart was already racing.
"Exactly!" Sun Shouwu nodded. "That's the other theory. Since the last known location was so close to the city, maybe someone just happened to be nearby. Opportunistic theft, chaos cover, who knows."
So that's it... Liu Wei'an's expression didn't change, but a realization struck deep in his chest.
"Yeah, you get it now." Sun Shouwu confirmed with a sigh.
The massacre that followed—it all made sense now. At first, the families were probably genuinely searching. But when clues ran dry and tempers flared, they turned violent, venting frustration and seizing the chance for destruction. Someone smashed a rival's shop, another ambushed their convoy—old grudges and new ones piled up. That's how it had spiraled so wildly out of control.
Otherwise, no matter how powerful those six families were, they wouldn't have dared act so recklessly.
"Let me ask you something," Liu Wei'an looked at Sun Shouwu. "What does the Ancient Scripture look like?"
"No clue," Sun Shouwu admitted after a pause. "Probably... like a book?"
"You chased it for months and never even saw what it looked like?" Liu Wei'an looked incredulous.
"Well, our Sun family may sound prestigious, but compared to the Big Six, we're still a tier below," Sun Shouwu said, flushing with embarrassment. "That's why I'm so frustrated."
"One more question: does it have a name? It can't just be called the 'Ancient Scripture,' right?"
Sun Shouwu turned even redder and cleared his throat. "Well… since it was found on the Dark God Mountain, probably something to do with darkness. Anyway, I just remembered I've got something urgent—chat's over!" Without waiting for more questions, he bolted.
Watching his retreating figure, Liu Wei'an was almost certain now—the amber he had picked up was the legendary Ancient Scripture. That meant he was the "lucky thief" everyone was after.
But… was it really that magical? All he'd gotten so far was a whole lot of trouble.
Shaking his head, he stepped out of the "Not Quite Dead Yet" apothecary and suddenly remembered—he'd originally come to talk to Sun Lingzhi. Now it was too awkward to go back in, so he sighed and left.
The streets were finally lively again. Shops were reopening, and the aftermath of the massacre was fading. The faces were mostly unfamiliar—either drifters from afar or new players joining World of Beasts.
The Materials Shop
The shop had a simple, rustic design, but it was fully stocked. The shelves were piled high with an eclectic assortment: animal skins, fur, horns, bones, claws; mysterious tree bark, roots, leaves, and seeds; red stones, white soil, pet eggs, iron nails, ropes, paper, pepper, soybeans, jade, seashells… Many items Liu Wei'an had never seen before.
"Hello there, can I help you find something?" The shop assistant greeted him with a bright smile. Before the massacre, the shop had been packed. These days, every guest received VIP treatment.
"Do you have cinnabar and brushes?"
"Of course! Right this way." The clerk's response was immediate and efficient.
They walked toward a corner where a large barrel of red powder sat—cinnabar.
Cinnabar, also called mercury sulfide, dragon's blood, or vermillion, was a naturally occurring mineral with a metallic luster. It had detoxifying, antiseptic, and insecticidal properties—but its primary use was in drawing talismans.
High-quality cinnabar could last a thousand years without fading—its red as vivid as fresh blood. Liu Wei'an, however, couldn't tell the difference between good and bad quality. This shop only stocked one kind anyway, so he bought a pound. It was outrageously expensive—100 copper per ounce.
"As for brushes, we've got everything—wolf hair, rabbit hair, mouse hair, baby hair—"
"Just give me ten pig bristle brushes." Liu Wei'an cut him off.
He wasn't trying to be elegant here. As a total beginner, a pig bristle brush—stiff and firm—was easier to control. Softer brushes would only make a mess of things.
Drawing talismans was a sacred act. Traditionally, it involved bathing, dressing in ritual robes, burning incense, and offering prayers to the Heavenly Master. But Liu Wei'an was self-taught and only knew one symbol—the basic Corpse-Dissolving Talisman. So he skipped all the pomp.
He booked a room at a small inn, pulled out fifty arrows, mixed chicken blood with cinnabar, and got to work.
With proper tools, everything was smoother. He wasn't using his own blood this time either, so the smell was much more pleasant.
Within three minutes, one talisman was done. A golden flash flared briefly before vanishing into the arrow's shaft, leaving only a faint mark. Liu Wei'an beamed—success.
A good start. An auspicious sign.
Second and third attempts? Also successful. Three in a row—something that had taken him all morning before. He was thrilled. The fourth one failed.
He wasn't sure if it was due to lack of skill or something else, but once an arrow failed, he couldn't inscribe a second talisman on it.
Fifth one—failed. Sixth—success...
An hour passed. He'd successfully enchanted thirteen arrows, failed seven times. After that, no matter how focused he was, the process just wouldn't work—same as before. He had hit some kind of limit.
Morning's cap had been ten. Now it was twenty. Perhaps his skill had improved. Or maybe the better tools helped. Either way, he cleaned up. Still, seeing the leftover cinnabar—less than a third used—hurt a little.
He left the inn around 2 p.m. and treated himself to a proper meal for once. Now that he had some money, he didn't have to live on buns and bread all the time.
That Afternoon
He made a trip to the small grove. Interestingly, Black Ox's two senior brothers had survived the massacre—likely because the area was so remote no one had gone near it. They'd been forging arrows nonstop. By the time Liu Wei'an arrived, arrows were stacked like a small mountain.
Looking at the measly one-cubic-meter space in his storage ring, Liu Wei'an suddenly felt it was way too small. He emptied it of zombie claws and corpse nails, packed in half a cube of arrows, and left.
Before he did, he advised the two craftsmen to hide the rest—just in case a player stumbled across them. As for the arrow-making? Keep going. These arrows were useless against zombies, but once he cleared the graveyard, he'd be fighting different beasts—and they'd come in handy then.
He spent three hours in the graveyard, killing over 200 walkers, 100 rotters, and 13 zombies. As he was finishing up, three more zombies suddenly appeared, sending him running for his life. He waited a full hour for them to leave before creeping back to retrieve the corpses.
By then, night had fallen. Old Li and the others were already complaining. Liu Wei'an handed over 30 more copper coins to shut them up.