Chapter 78: The Wu Clan’s Golden Silk Cocoon, the Genesis of an Indestructible Form
Chapter 78 – The Wu Clan’s Golden Silk Cocoon, the Genesis of an Indestructible Form
Seeing Jiang Feng’s face darken into a mask of frozen silence, Chen Changsheng offered a faint, knowing smile and did not press the matter.
Even if the Kunlun Holy Land possessed the resolve to pay such a king’s ransom, he was not entirely certain he was willing to part with the creature.
“By the way, Elder Jiang,” Chen Changsheng said, his voice casual. “I have unsealed such a peerless treasure. I trust I won’t be hounded by greedy eyes the moment I step out?”
Jiang Feng took a deep breath, forcing his turbulent emotions to settle.
“During the duration of the Heavenly Talent Assembly, no hand may be raised against the invited geniuses. Any violator will be viewed as a direct provocation to the Kunlun Holy Land.”
“Against such a fool, the Kunlun Holy Land shall wage a war of attrition until they are utterly extinguished. However, the internal rivalries and sanctioned duels between the Heavenly Talents themselves are permitted.”
“That is for the best,” Chen Changsheng replied. “A treasure of this magnitude invites the shadow of villainy. I would hate to be troubled.”
“With Elder Jiang’s personal guarantee, this junior can finally breathe a sigh of relief.”
“Furthermore, I trust the stones in the inner courtyard will not be shuffled before tomorrow? I have already locked my sights on another specific material.”
The corner of Jiang Feng’s eye twitched uncontrollably.
The “Rolling Pearl” had birthed a living entity. Though the Elder could not name its origin, anything capable of surviving an eternity sealed within God Source was a creature of divine providence.
To lose such a treasure was a blow to the workshop’s very foundation; Jiang Feng’s heart bled at the thought.
Now, hearing that this youth had already marked another target, a wave of genuine unease washed over the Elder.
“Hahaha!”
“You jest, young friend,” Jiang Feng forced a laugh. “My Kunlun Stone Workshop prides itself on its integrity. We would never stoop to the petty deceptions of a common merchant.”
“What you saw today shall remain waiting for you tomorrow.”
“The Kunlun Stone Workshop is indeed as fair as the rumors suggest,” Chen Changsheng said. “Then, we shall meet again when the sun rises.”
With that, Chen Changsheng turned and swaggered out of the stone workshop, his pace leisurely.
Despite the gazes following his back, not a single soul in the crowd dared to harbor an ill thought.
A man who could casually produce ancient Immortal Gold, whose physical might suppressed the Saintess of the Purple Mansion, and whose origins remained a terrifying mystery was not someone to be provoked.
To move against him while the eyes of the Kunlun Holy Land watched during the Heavenly Talent Assembly would be a death sentence.
…
The Eastern Wasteland Courtyard.
Chen Changsheng returned to the secluded residence assigned to the Eastern Wasteland’s delegation.
After bolting the doors and sealing the windows, he finally produced the sphere of God Source.
He watched the plump, white silkworm as it writhed within its golden amber prison.
“To think a living Golden Silk Cocoon actually exists in this era,” he murmured to himself.
“If the Wu Clan in the Hundred Thousand Mountains had held onto you, they wouldn’t have fallen into such a pathetic state of ruin.”
Indeed, the “fat grub” within the God Source was none other than the Gu God of the Wu Clan—the Golden Silk Cocoon.
During his time wandering the Hundred Thousand Mountains and clashing with the Thunder Beast tribes, Chen Changsheng had made it his habit to dismantle and study every secret of the lands he traversed.
The Wu Clan’s path of Gu Bugs had been of particular interest to him.
According to the scorched remnants of the Wu Clan’s ancient records, the Golden Silk Cocoon was the sovereign of all crawling things, the natural bane of every insect under heaven.
Chen Changsheng drew the sundered True Martial Sword and carefully etched a line across the God Source sphere.
Shua!
Crack!
The moment the shell split, the Golden Silk Cocoon lunged with predatory speed, latching onto the blade of the True Martial Sword.
A faint, rhythmic scraping sound reached Chen Changsheng’s ears.
The True Martial Sword—a weapon that had once belonged to the Emperor Zuo of the Xuanwu Kingdom and had remained nearly indestructible throughout Chen’s journey—now suffered a rice-sized notch under the creature’s mandibles.
Even Chen Changsheng’s cold composure wavered.
Aside from its failure within the Desolate Ancient Forbidden Land, he had never seen a material capable of withstanding the True Martial Sword, let alone damaging it.
Yet this “harmless” silkworm was effortlessly devouring the divine metal as if it were soft leaf mold.
The sound of voracious gnawing filled the room.
Though he felt a pang of regret for his blade, Chen Changsheng did not interfere.
Ancient texts warned that the Golden Silk Cocoon was raised on the flesh of primordial ferocious beasts; in its current state, his own physical vessel might not be enough to suppress it if he moved rashly.
He placed the sword on the table and hurriedly prepared an array of medicinal herbs and bone-carving tools.
The Wu Clan had left behind a singular, harrowing method to bind such a Gu.
Soon, an ancient, labyrinthine Formation was carved into the floorboards.
He sprinkled a layer of refined medicinal powder, ignited the Formation, and slowly extended his right hand toward the feeding silkworm.
Sensing the resonance of the call, the plump Golden Silk Cocoon raised its head, its tiny eyes sensing the shift in the air.
Shua!
Before Chen Changsheng’s divine sense could even track the movement, the creature was already nestled in his palm.
Pfft!
Its needle-like mouth tore through his formidable physical defenses, burrowing deep into the meat of his hand.
A visible “bulge” began to migrate up his arm. The searing, heart-wrenching pain caused Chen Changsheng’s jaw to lock and his muscles to twitch in a violent spasm.
After a grueling eternity of torment, the Golden Silk Cocoon reached his chest.
Without a shred of hesitation, the Gu pierced through the wall of his heart, nestling within a ventricle to begin spinning its web.
Pfft!
The damage to his vital organ forced a spray of crimson blood from Chen Changsheng’s lips.
Cold sweat drenched his brow as the excruciating, soul-piercing agony threatened to shatter his consciousness, yet he gritted his teeth, refusing to yield.
Raising a Gu within one’s own vitals was a gamble with death, but the providence it offered was boundless.
Hours passed before the Golden Silk Cocoon finally emerged from his chest, appearing sated.
The tattered flesh and ruptured vessels left in its wake began to knit together with unnatural speed.
In that moment, a profound, blood-deep bond snapped into place between the man and the beast.
Hungry…
A primal, clear thought vibrated within Chen Changsheng’s mind.
He looked at the weary creature and produced a fist-sized Thunder Pill, the distilled essence of a Thunder Beast’s core.
Crack!
The Golden Silk Cocoon did not hesitate, latching onto the pill and devouring its way into the center.
With the Gu placated, Chen Changsheng finally turned his attention inward.
Within his blood—once as heavy and potent as liquid mercury—there were now shimmering golden threads. They radiated from his heart, following the flow of his life-force to every extremity.
Golden Silk. It was a substance that no divine weapon could sever, and the ultimate sovereign medicine for any wound.
Chen Changsheng picked up the True Martial Sword and drew a sharp line across his index finger.
Before a single drop of blood could fall, a microscopic golden thread reached the site of the injury.
The thread stitched the wound with terrifying efficiency. The moment the seam was closed, the scar vanished, leaving the skin as pristine as if it had never been touched.
Verification of the ancient records sent a wave of dark satisfaction through him; he couldn’t help but let out a low, resonant laugh.
“I have gained yet another absolute trump card for my survival.”
“Once these golden threads weave a complete mesh throughout my frame, I might truly remain among the living even if my head is struck from my shoulders.”
“The Eight-Nine Mysterious Art and my accumulated Attribute Points have already made my flesh tyrannical. Now, with this autonomous restoration…”
“Truly, it will be difficult for the heavens to claim my life.”
He allowed himself a moment of grim triumph before turning his gaze to the System Panel.
The paths of cultivation in this era were a tangled mess of broken laws and new inventions. Even with his vast knowledge, he could not judge his true combat prowess by mere realms alone.
Fortunately, the System Panel remained—its Attribute Points providing the only objective anchor in this shifting world of power.