Chapter Seventeen: Zhen Hua, the Divine Artisan with Delicate Jade-like Hands

The next day.

On a flat mountaintop within the estate, Xu Minghuang waved a single hand, and a divine-grade mech appeared before the grandfather and grandson.

Bathed in the morning sunlight, the sleek, streamlined beauty of the crimson mech’s surface was mesmerizing.

“Grandpa, how long will it take for this mech to fly from Mingdu to Tiandou City?” Xu Zhao asked as he reached out to touch the intricate patterns etched onto the mech’s exterior.

In truth, this was not the first time he had seen his grandfather’s divine-grade mech. Ever since he was three years old, his grandfather had often taken him for rides in it, soaring through the skies.

Though divine-grade mechs fly at incredible speeds, his grandfather had always kept the velocity low out of concern for his young body.

Therefore, Xu Zhao had no idea just how fast the mech could go at full power.

“At its maximum speed, the mech could reach Tiandou City in less than a day,” Xu Minghuang said proudly, stroking his beard.

“But your current physical condition can’t withstand the stress of such extreme speed.”

“So, I’ve limited the mech’s speed to match the peak velocity of a soul-driven train. That means it will take us about two days to get to Tiandou City.”

He then bent down, gently placing his head near his grandson’s, and said warmly, “Zhao, since you like mechs, why not train both as a soul armor master and a mech pilot, just like me?”

“No,” Xu Zhao replied decisively.

“I’ll consider training as a mech pilot only when the top-tier divine-grade mechs can rival the highest-level soul armors.”

Mechs comparable to soul armors—that was a feat the Douluo Federation, even a full ten thousand years in the future, had yet to achieve, let alone now.

So, although Xu Zhao was fond of mechs, he had no intention of dividing his focus to become a mech pilot.

“Very well, if you don’t want to train as a mech pilot, you don’t have to. Whenever you want to pilot one, I’ll take you,” Xu Minghuang said, affectionately ruffling his grandson’s hair.

…

Two days later.

Northern continent, Tiandou City.

This ancient city boasts a history of over twenty thousand years, its legacy even older than Mingdu, the capital of the federation.

Across the entire Douluo Federation, only Xingluo City in the south could compare.

Unlike the modern urban style of Mingdu and other federation cities, Tiandou City has preserved the aesthetics of the ancient era.

No building in the city exceeds fifty meters in height, including the Spirit Transmission Tower, one of the Eighteen Celestial Pillars.

Though Xu Minghuang was authorized to pilot mechs over Tiandou City, out of respect for the historic city, he landed the mech outside the city and walked in with his grandson.

The wide streets were paved with blue bricks.

Walking along the avenue, Xu Zhao felt as if he had been transported back to a medieval Western kingdom from a past life.

No, medieval Western cities were not this clean.

The headquarters of the Forging Masters Association sat in the bustling heart of Tiandou City, adjacent to the Spirit Transmission Tower.

After experiencing the city’s ancient atmosphere, Xu Minghuang retrieved a soul-driven car from his storage device and personally drove them to the association’s headquarters.

About an hour and a half later.

Top floor of the Tiandou Forging Masters Association.

A pale hand at least fifty percent larger than an average person’s reached for the buzzing soul-driven communicator on the desk.

“Chairman, the head of the Xu family from Mingdu has arrived. Should I see him?”

“Xu family? Understood. Have him wait. I’ll see him once I finish my current work.”

“Got it. I’ll make the arrangements.”

On the first floor of the Forging Masters Association, a middle-aged man ended the call.

Normally, the person of higher status ends a call with someone of lower status. But as the secretary to the divine craftsman for many years, he knew the craftsman never hung up first when busy.

So, upon hearing that Zhen Hua was occupied, he took the initiative to end the call.

The secretary then composed his expression into a professional smile and entered the VIP reception room.

“Thank you for waiting, Elder Xu,” he apologized to the waiting Xu Minghuang, then explained, “The chairman is currently handling urgent matters and unable to receive visitors. Please rest in the lounge area. Once he finishes, I will notify you.”

“Thank you,” Xu Minghuang replied, sitting on the sofa and nodding.

The secretary left politely.

After the man was gone, Xu Minghuang sighed, “Divine craftsmen really are busy people.”

He wasn’t sure if Zhen Hua was genuinely busy or simply using that as an excuse because he didn’t want to see him.

After all, people of his status rarely traveled all the way to Tiandou City to visit the divine craftsman without a reason—usually to request the celestial-forged metal needed for the four-character soul armor.

Zhen Hua probably didn’t want to reject him outright, so deferring the meeting was common.

Xu Zhao, hearing his grandfather’s sigh, compared in his mind how easily the protagonist Tang Wulin in the books met Zhen Hua, and felt even more that protagonists truly have it easy, effortlessly meeting such top-tier figures of the Douluo Federation.

Three to four hours later, from morning until lunchtime, Zhen Hua finally finished his work and allowed the secretary to bring the Xu family head to see him.

At the top floor, the secretary led Xu Minghuang and Xu Zhao into a spacious small dining hall.

Inside sat a man around thirty years old.

He had black hair and eyes, handsome features, yet his eyes held a depth and weariness beyond his years. The white hairs at his temples contrasted sharply with the rest of his black hair.

Most striking were his hands.

Fair, slender, without visible joints, his palms resembled flawless jade, translucent and nearly one and a half times larger than average.

For a forging master, hands were paramount.

With such uniquely gifted hands, it was no wonder Zhen Hua had become the continent’s sole divine craftsman.

Those hands were more beautiful than any woman’s.

It was likely one reason why Zhen Hua’s daughter chose Mu Chen over him—such perfect jade-like hands made other women feel inferior.

“Head of the Xu family, it’s been a long time.”

“Your Excellency Zhen Hua, it’s been many years. The last time we met was over a decade ago.”

Zhen Hua rose and shook Xu Minghuang’s hand warmly, their expressions as enthusiastic as old friends reunited after years apart.