"Mister Iron Hand, you are refreshingly straightforward, so I'll speak plainly as well. I greatly admire your attainments in Mechanism Art and wish to spend a fortune to hire you and your disciples. I hope your master-and-disciple line can safeguard my fleet," Fan Lang said.
Mister Iron Hand was startled at first, then frowned, replying displeasedly, "You probably do not understand my circumstances. Hundreds of years ago, I already washed my hands of this trade and swore never to touch any mechanism-related creation again. At most, I merely guide my disciples and grand-disciples and let them do the work. I will absolutely not involve myself personally. I'll pretend I never heard this request, so you can save your breath. If you wish to hire my disciples and grand-disciples, that can be discussed."
"Please calm down, sir. I know this request was too abrupt and may have offended you, but since I raised it, I naturally have my reasons. Please allow me to finish. Surely you can spare me the time it takes to drink a cup of tea."
"I am listening."
"I know some details about what happened to you back then. You spent several years building a thirty-two-star starship, the masterpiece into which you poured your life's work. You named it the Star Peak. After several trial voyages, it officially set sail with a full load of passengers. A malfunction occurred midway, and the entire ship exploded. Ninety percent of those aboard died. The later investigation concluded that the ship's structure had been flawed, causing the accident. This was a tremendous blow to you, and it was afterward that you announced your retirement..."
"Enough!" Mister Iron Hand barked, cutting Fan Lang off. "There is no need to bring up those old matters again. You need not tell me; I