Stranger Danger

Chapter 928: Eight Wind Blows

A few breaths later, Fang Muyun’s voice came from within. “Are the items ready?”

Fugong answered, “It is, young master. Everything is prepared.”

Creak. The door swung inward, and Fang Muyun stepped out of the room. He looked at Fugong and declared, “In that case, let us depart.”

“As you command!” Fugong responded before leaving with Fang Muyun.

A teatime later, the duo had exited the Four Seas and arrived at the seashore.

“Young master...”

Two men walked up to them immediately. They both had unusual countenances.

One man was dark-faced and long-bearded. He wore an iron crown and wielded an iron staff. He was carrying a tiger the size of a house cat on one arm.

The other man had white hair as smooth as a crane’s feathers and a childish face. There was a bulge on his forehead. He looked kind, cute, and very lively despite his age.

They were none other than Lugong and Shougong.

“Mm.” Fang Muyun nodded.

It was at this moment Fugong took a step forward and waved his hand. A pavilion with clouds at the bottom immediately flew out of his sleeve and into the sky. As it descended, it grew bigger and bigger. It was the size of a normal building by the time the clouds made contact with the sea surface.

Cloudy mist surrounded the fantastical pavilion. It was fully furnished with tables, chairs, beds and the like. It had tea, wine, qin, Go board, books and paintings as well. It was basically a mobile home where everything was readily available.

The pavilion was named the Floating Pavilion, a Phenomenon-class Strange Artifact. It boasted an interior space, white clouds that shrouded the pavilion, and the ability to change its size at will. So long as there was a single wisp of cloud, the pavilion would never fall to the ground. Hence the name.

Fugong gestured, “This way please, young master!”

Fang Muyun took one step forward, and a patch of cloud automatically appeared beneath his feet. It lifted him straight into the Floating Pavilion. After that, Fugong, Lugong and Shougong entered the Floating Pavilion as well.

A cool breeze blew, and the Floating Pavilion floated forward. It was gone in the blink of an eye.

On the sea, Fugong was piloting the Floating Pavilion toward their destination when suddenly, he exclaimed in surprise, “Huh? Why is it fogging?”

“It’s hardly strange that there is fog on the sea,” Lugong replied while sipping a cup of clear tea.

But Shougong disagreed, “No, something’s not right. This fog is rising way faster than your ordinary fog.”

Even as he said this, the sea around them was completely shrouded by a thick fog.

“Should we inform young master about this?” Lugong asked.

Shougong opened his eyes and said, “It’s fine. I don’t sense any danger from this fog.”

“Then let us continue,” Fugong remarked before continuing toward their destination.

Neither Lugong nor Shougong noticed that the Floating Pavilion had veered off its original path.

About an hour later, Fugong stared at the fog in front of him and voiced his puzzlement, “Strange. It’s been a whole hour since we ran into the fog. Why hasn’t it dissipated yet?”

“It is quite strange,” Lugong echoed in agreement.

“Wait, this isn’t your ordinary fog, it’s...” Fugong exclaimed in realization, “... the Lost Fog.”

Shougong observed the surrounding fog for a bit before admitting with an ugly expression, “I think you’re right. This is bad.”

The Lost Fog was a Phenomenon-class Stranger. Those who were trapped within would lose their way without knowing. “All directions lead only to more fog, not even the heaven or the earth may provide reprieve to the lost”. Such was how people described the Lost Fog.

Although the Lost Fog was only a Phenomenon-class Stranger and boasted no offensive capabilities whatsoever, it was more annoying than even some Disaster-class Strangers. It was because the Lost Fog was, physically speaking, no different from your conventional fog, making it nigh undetectable when it first engulfed its victims. By the time they realized what happened, the Lost Fog had already taken them to heavens-know-where.

Dispelling the Lost Fog was possible, but hardly easy. The Lost Fog must be dispelled all at once, or it would reform, regrow, and recover its lost ground rapidly if even a wisp of it was left behind.

Generally speaking, only a Trueman or Grandmaster stood a chance at dispelling the Lost Fog. Anyone below that level could only wait until the Lost Fog was gone. The good news was that the Lost Fog only lasted between six to ten hours at most before scattering on its own. The bad news was that they would miss the entire first half of the birthday ceremony, and the island lord might very well take offense to that.

“What do we do?” Fugong asked.

“We don’t possess the ability to deal with the Lost Fog. We must request help from young master,” Shougong replied.

No one here was a weakling, but they weren’t Truemen yet. So, they could not dispel the Lost Fog.

“What’s happening?”

A few breaths later, Fang Muyun’s voice came from inside the pavilion.

Shougong clasped his hands in salute. “We encountered the Lost Fog, young master. We need your help to dispel it!”

“The Lost Fog?”

On the second floor of the Floating Pavilion, Fang Muyun stepped out of his room and examined the surrounding fog with an imperceptible frown on his face.

Fugong, Lugong and Shougong appeared beside Fang Muyun and apologized for their failure, “We were careless and failed to detect the Lost Fog at first notice. Please, forgive us.”

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault.”

Fang Muyun waved away their apology. He was aware of the Lost Fog’s characteristics as well. It was understandable that his three aides would not notice its presence until it was too late.

After saying that, a painting appeared in front of Fang Muyun and unfolded itself. Then, a white-haired old man slowly stepped out of the painting.

The old man had dirty white hair. He wielded a wheel on his left hand and a fan on his right. A cool breeze surrounded him like a mini cyclone.

The next moment, the old man fanned the blue wheel he was holding with his fan. It began spinning and flashing with the mysterious grace of Dao.

A wind named Fiery Wind rose from the northeast. It was generated by Gen qi.

A wind named Torrential Wind rose from the east. It was generated by Zhen qi.

A wind named Smoky Wind rose from the southeast. It was generated by Xun qi.

A wind named Giant Wind rose from the south. It was generated by Li qi.

A wind named Bleak Wind rose from the southwest. It was generated by Kun qi.

A wind named High Wind rose from the west. It was generated by Dui qi.

A wind named Fierce Wind rose from the northwest. It was generated by Qian qi.

A wind named Cold Wind rose from the north. It was generated by Kan qi.

The eight winds rose, and the clouds and fog were nevermore.

Fugong, Lugong and Shougong were understandably stunned by their young master’s display of power. The painting Fang Muyun just used was called ‘Fengbo[1]’, and Fengbo was the god of the old who governed the wind. Master of the eight winds and five weathers, Fengbo boasted immeasurable power.

Obviously, Fang Muyun’s painted Fengbo was no match for the real thing. Even so, it definitely boasted some true likeness to the real Fengbo. The blue wheel spun, the eight wind rose, and clarity returned to the world once more. Not only was the Lost Fog gone, the sea surface was completely untouched by the eight winds.

A flicker of pride appeared in Fang Muyun’s eyes as he examined his handiwork.

Then, his smile stiffened.

It was because an island had appeared in front of him after the fog had dispersed. For whatever reason, it was covered in countless banners and Strangers. They were all shouting:

“Kill the humans, elevate the four seas!”

“Kill the humans, elevate the four seas!”

“Kill the humans, elevate the four seas!”

Suddenly, the shouts on the island came to a sudden stop.

It was because they saw the fog dissipating and revealing Fang Muyun, Fugong, Lugong and Shougong standing on the Floating Pavilion.

For a time, both sides could only stare at each other in stupefied shock.

1. Or Uncle Feng... hey wait a second. ☜