Chapter 109: It Rains, Test Flight

Chapter 109: Rainfall! The Test Flight

Bing Wengu stood with his hands behind his back, nodding slightly as cheers erupted around him.

Qing Lingzi nudged Qing Jingzi and gestured toward Bing Wengu with his chin. "Such a joyous occasion, yet the lord’s face is still stern—not even a hint of a smile?"

Qing Jingzi waved a hand dismissively. "Don’t mind him, that’s just how he is. But if you bring his husband here, I guarantee he’ll beam like a sunflower on the spot."

"Really? You’re not lying to me, are you, shidi?" Qing Lingzi asked skeptically.

"Shixiong, when have I ever lied to you?"

Qing Lingzi stared pointedly at Qing Jingzi—how their fellow disciples got here needed no further explanation.

Qing Jingzi coughed awkwardly. "Ah, well… just that one time."

Back when Bing Wengu had first asked Qing Jingzi if he had any fellow disciples, Qing Jingzi had been prepared to die rather than reveal a single one. But later, Bing Wengu’s terms were too generous, and after Qing Jingzi fully understood what he was being asked to research, he couldn’t resist. He immediately wrote letters to rope in all his fellow disciples from the temple, tricking them into thinking they were being recruited as celestial masters—only to arrive and realize they’d been put to work like draft animals.

Yet none of them could leave—not because Bing Wengu forbade it, but because the research was too significant. If successful, it would earn them an eternal legacy, and no one could refuse that.

As the two disciples chatted, Nan Jinping entered. The moment Bing Wengu saw him, his whole face softened into a smile dripping with affection.

"Husband, you’re here," Bing Wengu said softly, his voice devoid of any chill, instead brimming with warmth.

Qing Lingzi rubbed his arms. "Shidi, this time, you really didn’t lie to me."

"Wen Gu, what’s this great thing you want to show me?" Nan Jinping had rushed over as soon as he received the news. Amidst the drought, he couldn’t imagine what could possibly be called good news—especially when he still carried the weight of a life on his conscience.

"Something that will absolutely delight you," Bing Wengu said, taking Nan Jinping’s hand and instructing his men to bring out the object.

"Something that will absolutely delight you," Qing Jingzi mimicked in a whisper, putting on a sugary tone. "Hear that? Talking all soft and sweet, like a cat—that’s how the lord speaks to his husband every day."

"Madness. Love turns people into fools," Qing Lingzi said, horrified. "Thank the heavens we’re detached from worldly affairs. I can’t even imagine how terrifying it would be if I ended up like that."

He stroked his chin. "But speaking of which, shidi, doesn’t the lord’s behavior seem familiar? Like something we’ve seen before?"

Qing Jingzi thought for a moment before replying, "Like the way my dog on the back mountain acts when he sees me—all tail-wagging and slobbering devotion..."

Both disciples fell silent at once.

Qing Lingzi pressed a finger to his lips. "Shh, we can’t say that out loud. Unlike Nan Fulang, we’d get our heads chopped off if we got caught."

Bing Wengu led Nan Jinping forward, followed by a team of yamen officers pushing a massive wooden cart. On it lay an enormous object draped in black cloth.

Nan Jinping kept looking back, curious. "What is that?"

"Wait and see," Bing Wengu said mysteriously.

They walked for a long time until they reached a wide, empty field, where two iron tracks ran along the ground.

To Nan Jinping, it all seemed completely bewildering.

Fortunately, this was a secret research facility—otherwise, such bizarre devices would surely draw crowds.

When they finally reached the spot, Qing Jingzi asked, "Lord, ready to begin?"

"Begin," Bing Wengu nodded.

Qing Jingzi first set off firecrackers, then joined his brother disciples in waving their horsetail whisks while murmuring mystically and performing rituals. Only after the ceremony concluded did they lift the red cloth.

Beneath the cloth lay a monstrous contraption crafted from silk, bamboo, and metal.

The object bore some resemblance to a giant bird.

Nan Jinping approached, awestruck by the massive creation. “What is this?”

“A flying machine,” Bing Wengu replied, tilting his head with a faint smile as he spoke the words.

It was a rudimentary aircraft—no iron-cast body, just a barebones frame of silk and bamboo. Compared to the iron beasts Bing Wengu was accustomed to, it was so crude it might as well have been a mere scaffold. Yet in this bygone age, it was nothing short of a miracle.

Nan Jinping suddenly looked up at the man before her, her heart pounding violently.

“Flying machine”—two words that should have been utterly foreign, yet they carried an eerie familiarity, as if she had heard them countless times before.

“Flying machine,” Nan Jinping repeated hoarsely under her breath, her voice cracking.

“It can be piloted into the sky,” Bing Wengu added.

In a daze, Nan Jinping seemed to glimpse a domineering figure ruling the skies, commanding the heavens like a sovereign.

After what felt like an eternity, Nan Jinping snapped back to reality and asked, “It’s incredible that it can fly, but amidst this drought, surely it isn’t just for flying. What else can it do?”

Bing Wengu smiled. “My dear husband is as sharp as ever. With this, we can create man-made rain.”

“Man-made rain?” Nan Jinping was stunned. “You mean… but how can humans make rain?”

“We can,” Bing Wengu assured. “Just watch, my love.”

With that, Bing Wengu strode forward and climbed into the flying machine.

Nan Jinping still didn’t fully grasp what he intended, but Qing Jingzi and Qing Lingzi, the creators of the plane, understood all too well.

“My lord, your life is invaluable—this is far too dangerous,” Qing Lingzi protested. “Let us Daoists handle the test flight.”

Qing Jingzi added, “Though many groundbreaking ideas came from your suggestions, this machine was built by us brother disciples. We know it best. Please allow us to conduct the test flight.”

“This official will do it. You lack experience,” Bing Wengu insisted firmly.

He couldn’t let two ancient greenhorns with no flight experience attempt this. It wasn’t just irresponsible—it was a matter of time. If the test flight failed, costing lives, the drought-stricken people couldn’t afford to wait for a second flying machine, nor could Bing Wengu spare the time to train new Daoists.

In his past life among the stars, Bing Wengu had been a mech warrior with over two centuries of experience. He was far more capable than these two novices.

Qing Jingzi glanced at Bing Wengu, then turned to Nan Jinping, who was still out of the loop. “Nan Fulang, please persuade my lord. He intends to pilot this thing into the sky—it’s extremely dangerous.”

Only then did Nan Jinping snap to awareness. She grabbed Bing Wengu’s arm. “This is too risky.”

For the first time, Bing Wengu gently pried her hand away—the first time he refused her plea.

“Trust me, my dear husband. I can succeed. If I don’t fly, the people of *Jixian*—no, not just *Jixian*, but several surrounding prefectures—will continue to suffer the drought. Countless lives will be lost.”

“But… but…” Nan Jinping’s throat tightened with unspoken words, surging forth yet trapped. “But I’m human too. I have a selfish side. Are you asking me to choose between your life and theirs?”

“No. I would never force such a cruel choice upon you.” Bing Wengu adjusted the pack on his back. “This is a life-saving parachute. If anything goes wrong, I can touch down unharmed. There’s no risk to my life.”

Tears welled in Nan Jinping’s reddened eyes, but she still refused to yield. Bing Wengu softened his voice. “My dear husband, just trust me this once, alright? You know I love you—I’d never do anything to hurt you. Everything I’ve ever done has been for you, for a life free of hardship together. How could I act against that? I’d never dare die, lest someone else spends my money, takes my bed, and takes my husband. Even death couldn’t keep me from rising from the grave in rage.”

Nan Jinping laughed through her tears at his last words and finally relented.

He knew Bing Wengu’s mind was set, and he noticed that Bing Wengu wasn’t wearing his usual wide-sleeved official robes today but instead a form-fitting outfit for ease of movement—showing he’d planned this from the start.

When even Nan Jinping failed to change Bing Wengu’s mind, Qing Jingzi and Qing Lingzi stepped forward once more to go over the controls with him.

Bing Wengu was already familiar with most of it but listened patiently again. Thanks to his sharp mind, he remembered everything after hearing it once, and there were no discrepancies.

Working the controls, Bing Wengu rolled down the iron runway, his mind fully engaged, focusing on the differences between piloting an aircraft and operating a mech.

Perhaps due to his two centuries of mech piloting experience or his innate talent, Bing Wengu quickly got the feel for it, and the plane lifted off slowly.

"It’s flying, it’s flying!!!" Qing Jingzi shouted from below. "It’s really flying!"

Qing Lingzi and the other monks were equally overjoyed, jumping and whooping.

Nan Jinping tilted her head back, gazing at the huge machine, silently praying in her heart.

Bing Wengu piloted the plane into the sky, soaring through the air in search of the right location for artificial rainmaking.

As the plane flew overhead, the engine’s thunderous roar drew the attention of the people below. Soon, they were pointing at the sky and shouting.

"Look at that thing in the sky—what is it?"

"It’s like nothing we’ve ever seen! Could it be a monster?"

"It must be a monster. Since ancient times, disasters have always been accompanied by monsters. Listen to its roar—how terrifying!"

"Run, everyone! Don’t let the monster catch and eat us!"

The people panicked and fled, while some of the more timid ones fell to their knees, shaking and bowing in terror.

At last finding the perfect spot for artificial rain, Bing Wengu began dispersing dry ice.

Dry ice turns to gas instantly, absorbing vast amounts of heat from the surrounding air and causing temperatures to plummet. This condensed moisture into tiny droplets, making artificial rain—a standard technique in the future.

When rain suddenly began to fall from the sky, the crowd below froze in shock.

Large raindrops struck their faces and the parched earth. Holding out their hands to catch the rain, they broke down sobbing.

"It’s rain! It’s raining! Finally, rain! We’re saved!!!"

"That wasn’t a monster—it was a god!"

"The gods saw our suffering and sent rain to save us!"

All at once, they fell to their knees, kowtowing and loudly thanking the heavens.

Nan Jinping cupped her hands, letting the rain pool in her palms as tears streamed down her face.

Qing Jingzi, Qing Lingzi, and their fellow disciples embraced one another. "It’s raining! It’s really raining!"

Nan Jinping grinned, tears streaming down her face. "Wen Gu, you really did it."