Chapter 154: For Whom Does the Hammer Toll?

It was only natural for a large city to have at least one blacksmith street.

After leaving the carriage at a tavern, they asked for directions to the metal shops and headed back out onto the street.

Only then did something feel missing.

“Come to think of it, nobody came out to greet us, huh?” Qing mused aloud.

She hadn’t particularly expected it, but the absence of the usual welcome still felt somewhat empty.

When you don’t know something, you just ask someone who does. Conveniently, their group included a musclebound freak who answered questions even before they were asked.

“There isn’t really any significant Righteous Faction presence in Zhumadian, Sister,” Zhuge Ihyeon explained.

“Oh? Why not?”

“Well, first off, isn’t this city primarily used as a key government base? In cities where the government’s influence is strong, Righteous Faction martial artists are naturally scarce.”

Clans, the local gentry, couldn’t easily take root in cities tightly controlled by the government. In fact, even established clans often found themselves pushed out by the pressure and forced to relocate. Besides, Righteous Faction martial artists were fundamentally righteous warriors who didn’t listen to government orders. This had become even more pronounced after the era of the Celestial Martial Emperor. The times when the government sought the aid of the martial arts world usually involved tasks too dirty or unjust for them to handle openly, so Righteous Faction warriors were unlikely to comply.

However, the Unorthodox Faction martial artists were shameless enough (according to Zhuge Ihyeon's explanation) to actively cozy up to government officials. Furthermore, since their usual activities were already vile and unjust, they readily took on errands for the government office. Thus, in cities firmly held by the government, the seeds of the Righteous Faction withered, while the Unorthodox Faction flourished.

“Doesn’t that make it dangerous?” Qing asked. “If it’s crawling with Unorthodox Faction guys.”

“Certainly, the southeastern part of the Central Plains, where the Unorthodox Path Alliance’s influence is strong, does have that aspect,” Zhuge Ihyeon said with a faint smile. “However, here in Henan territory, at least, no Unorthodox Faction would dare touch a Righteous Faction martial artist.”

The city’s location was simply terrible for them. To the north lay Shaolin and the Beggar’s Union, the Zhuge Clan to the south, the Namgung Clan to the east, and Wudang to the west. If the Unorthodox Faction tried anything relying on government backing, the combined power of the Righteous Faction from all four directions would ensure their annihilation.

“So, the most they can do is petty tricks like pretending we don’t exist, Sister.”

“Hmm.”

Upon arriving at the blacksmith street, Tang Nanah took the lead. Qing knew nothing about blacksmithing districts, and even the talkative Zhuge Ihyeon wasn't an expert in needles.

However, Tang Nanah wasn't exactly a trustworthy guide.

“Hey, apprentice there,” she called out sharply. “Who’s the best needle artisan in this city?”

Blasting out informal speech right off the bat to a stranger – truly befitting the renowned wickedness of the Poisonous Speaking Flower. It was only when she was with Qing that she got treated like a Chihuahua-level idiot; ordinarily, she was a high-status, incredibly arrogant young lady.

The poor apprentice was more struck by her dazzling beauty than the abrupt informal address.

“Hey! What is it? Are you ignoring me?” Tang Nanah snapped.

“N-No, not at all!” the apprentice stammered. “But a needle artisan? What kind of artisan in this world makes a living crafting only needles?”

Tang Nanah just stared. “…?”

Artisans specializing solely in needles were few and far between. Only a medical family that also ran a metal shop, like the Tang Clan, might employ an in-house needle artisan. As the apprentice said, how could anyone specialize in something with such low demand? Of course, physicians across the land would seek out a truly famous needle artisan, but asking for one in a local blacksmith shop would naturally elicit responses like, “Does such an artisan even exist?”

“Then how do the physicians in this town get their needles?” Tang Nanah demanded.

“They just hammer metal thin and long, and that’s a needle,” the apprentice replied simply.

Tang Nanah’s face scrunched up fiercely. Just hammering metal thin and long made it a needle? As a physician, she couldn't possibly let such an outrageous statement pass.

“What kind of idiotic nonsense is that? Fine! Then who’s the best master craftsman in the city?”

“That would be Elder Ban, but right now, he’s—”

The apprentice tried to say more, but Tang Nanah, her patience already worn thin, immediately cut him off.

“Too many words. Which way do I go?”

“Go straight, then at the second alley…”

The apprentice explained the directions. Surprisingly, the blacksmith street seemed quite developed, as the directions were rather complex. Unexpectedly, Tang Nanah nodded along, her expression indicating complete understanding before she turned.

“Brother Zhuge? Got that?”

“Of course, Sister Tang,” Zhuge Ihyeon confirmed instantly.

“Let’s go then.”

Watching the scene, Qing nodded to herself. People really should just leave things they aren’t good at to others. She might seem like a quack, but a physician is still a physician. Guess she isn’t completely useless in the head.

Zhuge Ihyeon perfectly demonstrated his status as the most intelligent muscleman, flawlessly memorizing the complex directions after hearing them just once and leading the group. Finally, they arrived before the Ban Family Metal Shop, reputed to be the best in the city.

“Hmm. Zhuge-ah, is this the right place?” Qing asked, surveying the area.

The building looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time. In the open space typical of metal shops, covered only by a simple roof, fresh weeds already reached their ankles. Considering it was early spring and the cherry blossoms hadn’t even bloomed yet, this meant it hadn’t been maintained at all.

“Sister, we found the right place,” Zhuge Ihyeon assured her. “Look over there. Ban Family Metal Shop.”

He pointed to a signboard lying overturned on the ground. Befitting a metal shop, it was an iron plate engraved with four elegant characters: Ban Family Metal Shop.

“Just looking at the signboard reveals a master craftsman of considerable skill,” Zhuge Ihyeon noted. “However, something seems…”

Even if he was ignorant about needles, the Zhuge Clan’s metal shop was renowned throughout the land for its intricate mechanism crafting. He could gauge the level of craftsmanship just by looking at the engraving on the signboard.

“Well, we’ll know once we go inside,” Qing declared, pushing forward. “Hello? Anyone here?”

She darted into the abandoned-looking metal shop.

“What the, did this place go bankrupt?”

She looked around inside, and then suddenly—

Her eyes met those of an old man glaring silently from the shadows.

“Gah! Damn it, you scared me….”

Qing let out a decidedly unladylike, sharp scream.

But it was only for a moment. The only things she feared were ghosts or perhaps a sudden nuclear noogie descending from the heavens courtesy of her Master, not some old man just glaring at her.

“Excuse me, Grandpa?” Qing recovered quickly. “Are you okay? Why are you just sitting there like that? You scared me half to death.”

“Now you resort to sending a wench?!” the old man roared with tragic determination. “Get lost! I’d rather die than forge weapons for the likes of you!”

“Huh?” Qing tilted her head. “We came for needles, not weapons.”

“Ha! Aren’t hidden weapons still weapons?” the old man scoffed.

“No, not those kinds of needles,” Qing clarified, exasperated. “Long needles. The ones physicians use for acupuncture. Don’t you know what needles are? Needles? Grandpa, have you gone senile already?”

At that, the old man’s expression shifted to one of perplexity.

“You came for… needles? Not asking me to make a sword?”

“I already have a sword, you know?” Qing patted her scabbard pointedly. “Why would I use another sword when I have the one my Master gave me?”

Only then did the old man show a hint of embarrassment.

“Ahem. Right, you came for needles… It’s been a while since I had a customer… Needles cost a fair bit, you know.”

“Ah. Hold on,” Qing said. “I’m not the one buying.”

At that, Tang Nanah stepped forward and presented the broken needle. As soon as the blacksmith, Ban, saw the fractured needle, he let out a deep sigh.

“Good heavens, how did such a precious needle end up broken? Just looking at it, I can tell it’s a Divine Artifact, the kind you might see once in an era, if at all.”

“C-Could it possibly be fixed?” Tang Nanah asked hesitantly.

The old man carefully examined the broken surface.

“Tsk, tsk. How much force did you use to break such a fine needle? Talk about a fine tool in clumsy hands! The tool is clearly a world-class Divine Artifact, but the owner’s skill seems woefully inadequate.”

“What?” Tang Nanah bristled. “What did this old geezer just say?”

“Still, thankfully, the break is clean, so putting it back together shouldn’t be too difficult,” the old man continued, seemingly ignoring her indignation.

Tang Nanah’s face flushed red. “What does this old man know?! What kind of muscle blocks a needle infused with Internal Energy? It’d be easier to stick a needle into a rock!”

“Ah,” the old man realized. “So the young lady performed the needling. This old man misspoke.”

“Hmph,” Tang Nanah snorted indignantly.

“So,” the old man asked, “where’s the other half?”

“Uh. About that…” Tang Nanah trailed off, looking at Qing.

“So, about that,” Qing interjected. “Old man, don’t you happen to have those thin forceps used for making needles? I need to pull something out that’s stuck in a body…”

The broken needle was embedded in Qing’s shoulder with only the very tip exposed. It was impossible to pull out without a tool that could get a proper grip. The protruding part was minuscule, too small to grasp by hand, and metal was too slippery for fingernails, nor could they apply enough force that way. Moreover, ordinary forceps couldn't even clamp down tightly on such a thin long needle.

Fortunately, among the tools the old man had accumulated over a lifetime running his metal shop, there was a pair of forceps specifically for gripping iron needles.

“Alright,” Tang Nanah said, forceps poised. “I’m pulling it out?”

“If you pull it out and it’s broken in half or something,” Qing threatened, “I swear I won’t let it go. I’ll shout to the heavens during my victory speech at the Hidden Dragon Tournament that the physician named Nanah from the Tang Clan is a quack who butchers her patients!”

“Ugh,” Tang Nanah groaned, her movements suddenly stiffening.

Qing narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What, don’t tell me that’s actually a possibility?”

“It’s all your fault, Qing-ah!” Tang Nanah retorted. “What kind of muscle isn’t just muscle but compressed like a rock, harder than Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron?! If the needle couldn’t withstand it and got bent…”

“Yes, yes, it’s my fault, my fault, all my fault,” Qing conceded dramatically.

“Well. Anyway,” Tang Nanah shifted slightly. “Ah, look over there!”

“Huh? What? What’s there?” Qing asked, distracted.

Shluk. The sensation of something being pulled out was distinct.

A sigh of relief followed.

“Whew,” Tang Nanah breathed out. “It came out safely.”

“Using deception to lower my guard,” Qing accused, rubbing her shoulder. “Such despicable tactics…”

“Goodness,” Tang Nanah chuckled, slapping Qing lightly on the back. “Why do you always have to phrase things like that?”

After that, Old Man Ban fussed about having to fire up the forge again. Since Qing knew nothing about blacksmithing, watching wouldn't be particularly interesting anyway.

“Come to think of it, Old Man Ban,” Qing pondered aloud. “Is he perhaps a descendant of Ban Chi?”

“Ah, Sister!” Zhuge Ihyeon lit up. “You know of Ban Chi! Truly the greatest blacksmith of all time, past and present!”

“Uh, yeah…” Qing mumbled.

It was the kind of fawning praise Qing usually spewed herself. Hearing it from someone else felt strangely… weird. Isn't this guy actually from the Central Plains? Is this the spirit of pretentious knowledge transcending eras?

“Actually,” Zhuge Ihyeon launched into an explanation, “blacksmithing is arduous and difficult work that doesn’t bring in much income, so it’s usually passed down through families. But honestly, unless a craftsman has enough skill to accumulate some wealth, even getting married isn’t easy…”

So, he explained, it was common for master craftsmen to take in orphans, raising them and passing on their skills. Of course, the ‘skill transmission fee’ often replaced wages, meaning they were essentially servants or assistants provided with only room and board. Some artisans with questionable character were known to work their apprentices like slaves until their bodies broke down, then cast them out.

“That’s why many blacksmiths adopt the surname Ban,” he concluded. “It signifies their aspiration to emulate the greatest of master craftsmen.”

“Hmm.”

“Ah! Speaking of Ban Chi,” Zhuge Ihyeon’s eyes gleamed, “I simply must tell you about his beautiful love story and the Bokshinjeok! The Bokshinjeok, Ban Chi’s long-lost treasure, a flute made of Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron…”

Qing casually held out her hand to the side.

Instantly, Gyeon Pohee produced a flute from somewhere and placed it firmly in her hand. Thanks to Choi Leeong having completed the handover.

“Zhuge-ah,” Qing interrupted smoothly. “This here is that supposedly long-lost Bokshinjeok.”

Zhuge Ihyeon stared, momentarily speechless. “…That’s genuinely Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron. Is it authentic?”

The Zhuge Clan’s metal shop was famous. And Zhuge Ihyeon possessed knowledge of everything his clan was involved in. He could recognize the unique, lusterless, dark blue hue of Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron at a glance.

“Would it be a fake?” Qing deadpanned.

“Heavens,” Zhuge Ihyeon breathed, utterly captivated. “Such a treasure…”

By placing the Bokshinjeok in Zhuge Ihyeon’s hands, Qing successfully sealed the terrifying, ceaselessly moving mouth—for a moment.

However, the long-awaited peace for her ears did not last long.

“What the hell, old man? Who said you could light that fire?” a rough voice bellowed from the entrance.

“I thought we told you to close up shop?” another added menacingly.

“Who’s there? What ballsy bastards dare defy the laws of the Namen Sect and…” a third voice trailed off as a group of swaggering thugs, swords at their hips, barged in.

Confirming their accumulated Bad Karma, Qing smiled brightly.