Chapter Twenty-Two: The Formidable Steward Mu!

The flesh wood was finer in texture and harder than ordinary timber. Gritting his teeth, Yang Ye spent half a day carving a tiny, misshapen figurine from a small piece of flesh wood. Gazing at the ugly little doll, Yang Ye shook his head and tossed it aside. With such a hideous face, Long Xiaoqing would never consent to use this body, even under threat.

He cut another piece and began carving afresh. Time and patience he had in abundance, and he believed he would eventually craft a perfect body. Long Xiaoqing was still a young dragon, so her appearance would naturally be that of a little girl. As he carved, Yang Ye began to build her image in his mind—a child of seven or eight, with large, bright eyes, a round face, and a dimple blooming when she smiled.

But imagining was one thing; translating that vision into wood was quite another, far from something accomplished quickly. One figurine. Two. Three. As time slipped by, a month passed unnoticed. Apart from sleeping, eating, and other necessities, Yang Ye devoted every moment to carving.

For an ordinary person, learning to carve required a complex process. But for a cultivator, such steps could be skipped entirely. Cultivators possessed powerful finger strength, keener senses, and exceptional memory, making their learning swift. With each figurine carved, Yang Ye’s skill improved. After a month, a heap of wooden dolls filled the corner of the room.

During this time, Long Xiaoqing often visited him—sometimes spending the whole day at his side, sometimes leaving the Dragon Palace for days on end. In the treasury, the pile of jewels steadily grew with each of Long Xiaoqing’s returns. She had a voracious appetite for such things. The ocean was rife with treasures; since humans learned to sail, countless ships had sunk to the seabed. Whenever Long Xiaoqing went out, she was usually searching for wrecks.

“This must be the three-hundredth one,” Yang Ye sighed, finishing yet another doll. It resembled the image he had built in his mind, yet he felt it was still not perfect. He tossed this doll aside, picked up another piece of flesh wood, and resumed carving.

Footsteps sounded; the wooden steward entered. “Young master, it’s time for lunch,” he said blandly.

Yang Ye glanced at him and asked, “Where’s Xiaoqing?”

“She left early this morning and hasn’t returned yet,” replied the steward.

Yang Ye nodded. “Let’s wait a bit longer. If she’s not back by one, I’ll eat then.”

“Yes, sir,” the steward replied, turning to leave.

Suddenly—

A thunderous boom erupted outside. The entire Dragon Palace trembled. Yang Ye hurriedly set aside his wood and tools and left the room. Another boom sounded.

“Ah! Husband, save me!”

As Yang Ye stepped out of the palace, Long Xiaoqing appeared before his eyes, shouting and hollering. She landed on his shoulder and exhaled deeply.

“Xiaoqing, what happened?” Yang Ye frowned.

Long Xiaoqing raised a dragon claw and pointed outside. “A giant shark tried to eat me! It chased me all the way to the Dragon Palace!”

Yang Ye was stunned. For a shark to pursue Long Xiaoqing, it must be formidable—at least a star beast of stellar rank.

“Miss, do not be afraid. The Dragon Palace is sturdy; no ordinary sea beast can shake it,” the wooden steward appeared, offering comfort.

Another boom, shaking the palace once more. Then came the relentless pounding—every few dozen seconds, another impact. The Dragon Palace shuddered more fiercely each time.

“Xiaoqing, what did you do?” Yang Ye asked curiously.

Long Xiaoqing opened her mouth, spat out a ruby the size of an egg, and cradled it in her claws. “I just took this pretty gem from beneath the shark’s belly, and it chased me for over a thousand miles! Such a hateful beast!”

She had been playing wildly during this time, her mischievous nature in full bloom. Though she hadn’t harmed the shark, it saw her as coveted prey.

“This star beast outside is outrageous—it deserves death,” the wooden steward remarked coldly, striding toward the entrance of the Dragon Palace.

Yang Ye watched him, surprised, then quickly followed.

The steward opened the stone gate. In the ocean outside, a shark dozens of meters long charged forward, striking the mountain upon which the palace stood. It was smaller than Yang Ye had expected, but its appearance was quite different—covered entirely in blue scales, with a red belly, radiating a powerful star force from within. It was a mid-stellar stage star beast.

The wooden steward walked out the gate, raised a hand at the shark, and declared, “Wretch, leave at once or I shall strike you down where you stand!”

His words were calm, yet heavy with murderous intent. The shark ignored him, swishing its tail and charging straight at the gate.

The steward leapt into the water, an arrow slicing through the sea, and in an instant appeared above the shark’s head. He struck down with his palm.

A deafening explosion. The massive shark halted abruptly, blood spreading from its shattered head. With a single blow, the wooden steward had slain a mid-stellar stage star beast.

Throughout this, he released no powerful energy; even the surrounding water barely stirred.

Yang Ye stared in shock, eyes wide. The steward had never seemed so formidable.

After killing the shark, the steward dragged its body away, clearly not wanting the corpse to rot and stink at the palace entrance. The area around the Dragon Palace was so intimidating that few sea beasts dared approach. If the corpse lay at the gate, no other creatures would come to feed.

“Steward, wait!” Yang Ye cal