In the twenty-fourth year of Jingli in the Ming Dynasty, at the end of late summer in the Northern Frontier, the heat hung overhead like a red-hot branding iron. The Blacksmith Shops of Northern Garrison City never rested day or night, their furnace fires dyeing half the sky crimson. The air carried the scorched stench of burning iron filings, and even the passing wind bore a searing heat.
Lin Zhao stepped across the scorching bluestone road without slowing, heading straight into the Myriad Treasures Pavilion at the city center, its flying eaves and upturned corners rising high. This shop was Northern Garrison City's foremost dealer in rare treasures. The two attendants standing guard at the entrance wore polished sword scabbards at their waists. One look showed they had trained for years. When they saw Lin Zhao, they merely raised their eyes slightly, carrying the calm composure of men who had seen great scenes.
"Do you have any Pangolin Dragon Essence?" Lin Zhao lifted the door curtain, his voice not loud, yet enough to drown out the whispers within. His stock of Pangolin Dragon Essence was nearly depleted—it was a crucial supplementary material for breaking through to the Heavenly Gang Realm. Every time he came to Northern Garrison City, this was his foremost priority.
Behind the counter, the goateed shopkeeper was working an abacus. His hand paused at the question. Raising his head, he rubbed his hands with a bitter smile. "Sir, you've been asking that for half a year already! Forget Northern Garrison City—even across the whole of Northern Zhili, Pangolin Dragon Essence has practically become legend these past three years. The Black Market price was driven up to five hundred taels per liang long ago, but what good is a price without a market? If my shop had any stock, would I let it sit there gathering dust?"
Lin Zhao's brows furrowed slightly as doubts churned in his heart. Could it be that Zhu Chenhao still hadn't broken through to Legendary Grandmaster? Rumors said two years ago that his internal energy went astray while he was attempting the breakthrough. So much time has passed, yet there's still no definite news. If the imperial family shared some of the Pangolin Dragon Essence they hoarded with me, I might already have one foot over the Grandmaster threshold!
But he only dared think such words in his heart—he did not have the nerve to provoke that imperial Heavenly Gang Realm Grandmaster Warrior. Zhu Chenhao's reputation throughout court and countryside was now second only to the Director of Ceremonies and the Duke of Zhenguo. Even old noble houses like the Duke of Zhenguo's Manor of the Northern Frontier military garrison had to be exceedingly courteous upon seeing him. That was the pinnacle Ming Dynasty martial artists could reach—the martial pressure of a Heavenly Gang Realm Grandmaster Warrior could crush an Entering Martial Master to his knees on the spot. Who would dare provoke him?
There were even secret rumors in the martial world that, to set Zhu Chenhao's mind at ease, the old emperor had considered breaking the ancestral rule of succession by the eldest legitimate son and passing the throne to this prince with hopes of advancing to Legendary Grandmaster. Once the prince became a Mystic Martial Realm Legendary Grandmaster, he could use martial might to suppress those ambitious nobles into inaction, hold down the Oirat tribes that occasionally rode south to pillage, and free himself from reliance on the Imperial Guard—this realm needed the fists of a Legendary Grandmaster to keep it steady.
"Then do you have these materials?" Lin Zhao suppressed his thoughts and pulled a neatly folded sheet of hemp paper from his robes, handing it over. The list was packed with items: rare materials required to forge the [Heart Guardian Seal], the Netherworld Grass essential to the Netherworld Technique, as well as several martial arts manuals he wished to find. He had not held much hope to begin with—none of these were things one could acquire casually.
The shopkeeper accepted the list. As his finger traced the entries, his brow drew tighter and tighter, while his head shook like a rattle-drum. "Forget about the martial arts manuals. The owners have strict rules: no martial arts manuals are sold, lest they invite grudges from the martial world. Among the other materials, there's still half a jar of Scaled Dragon Beast blood, sitting in the warehouse so long it's nearly growing mold. We do have a small piece of Mithril, but it was ordered by people from Duke of Dingguo's Manor. They'll collect it next month. Mystic Iron Gold, Evil Dust, **, Netherworld Grass..." He paused, waving his hand with a bitter smile. "Forget seeing them—I've never even heard of them! And this last one, 'Radiant Crystal'—what sort of rare thing is that?"
"It's a peculiar stone that emits a faint glow. Rumor has it that it formed after meteorite iron from beyond the heavens shattered." Lin Zhao had not expected even the Myriad Treasures Pavilion's shopkeeper to have never heard of it. He sighed inwardly—these materials for forging seals truly were obscure to the bone.
"A glowing strange stone?" The shopkeeper's eyes suddenly lit up. He whipped his head around and shouted toward the rear hall, "Little Three! Bring out the box of 'Night-Luminous Stone' from the very back of the warehouse!"
Before long, an attendant came running out in a sweat, carrying a wooden box half the height of a man. Even the cloth draped over the box had yellowed. The shopkeeper personally lifted the cloth, sending dust cascading down and making the attendant cough twice. Inside lay a stone the size of a human head, its surface buried beneath thick dust, no different in appearance from an ordinary rock.
Yet when the shopkeeper carefully wiped away the dust with silk cloth, a miraculous scene unfolded. The stone's surface immediately glimmered with a soft radiance, as though shattered stars had been kneaded and scattered across it. He had the attendant close the doors and windows, and the room immediately filled with a firefly-like glow. It was not harsh on the eyes, yet it illuminated the entire counter with perfect clarity.
"This was entrusted to us years ago by an impoverished noble. He said his ancestors picked up a stone from beyond the heavens in the northern desert. We call it Night-Luminous Stone." The shopkeeper spoke casually, tapping the stone with his fingertip. "If you want it, two hundred taels of silver, and it's yours."
"One hundred taels." Lin Zhao wasted no words and cut the price in half, his tone hard and leaving no room for negotiation.
The shopkeeper's eyes spun twice. Using an excuse, he gave the attendant a meaningful look, and the two slipped into the inner room. Lin Zhao's ears twitched. As he activated [Listening to Wind, Distinguishing Position], even the attendant's lowered voice within sounded as though it were spoken beside his ear. "Shopkeeper, we only paid twenty taels for that stone back then. It's been sitting in the warehouse for nearly three years, and nobody's ever asked about it!"
Lin Zhao laughed inwardly. It seemed he still did not know how to bargain—he should have cut the price further. But this Night-Luminous Stone was clearly the Radiant Crystal he sought. Forget one hundred taels; even two hundred would have been worth taking.
Not long after, the shopkeeper emerged after straightening his collar. He deliberately furrowed his brow, wearing an expression of pained reluctance. "Fine, fine! Seeing that you're a straightforward man, one hundred taels it is. Consider it a loss to make a friend!"
"Throw in that jar of Scaled Dragon Beast blood as well." Lin Zhao spoke blandly. As he did, a faint yet heavy aura spread from his body—an elite fighter's internal energy, like a mild-tempered boulder, instantly pressing sweat from the shopkeeper's back. "Dust has piled up on the jar's mouth. Other than me, I'm afraid no one will want it."
The shopkeeper's expression changed on the spot. He himself was a third-rate martial master and was most sensitive to such restrained yet tyrannical internal energy. He knew the man before him was no ordinary wandering swordsman. He hurriedly piled on a smile, the flesh of his face scrunching together. "Add it! Of course we'll add it! Might I ask whether you are a wandering martial hero? Myriad Treasures Pavilion often has merchant caravans traveling through the Northern Frontier, and they always encounter bandits on the road. We're desperately short of experts like you to escort them. The monthly wage is six hundred and fifty taels, with food and lodging included!"
"I'll not consider it for now." Lin Zhao waved a hand and accepted the Radiant Crystal and Scaled Dragon Beast blood wrapped in burlap by the attendant. The Radiant Crystal was weighty, and he could feel a trace of warmth in his hand. He turned and left, giving the shopkeeper no chance to persuade him to stay.
After leaving the Myriad Treasures Pavilion, Lin Zhao turned into Inkstone Study on the street corner. The shop was small, but it carried the fragrance of ink. The shopkeeper was an old scholar wearing spectacles. Seeing Lin Zhao, he greeted him with a smile. "What books are you looking for, sir? We recently received several new gazetteers on Oirat customs and geography. Even Celestial Masters' Manor came to borrow them."
Lin Zhao selected three books—one on the distribution of Oirat tribes, one on common Oirat vocabulary, and one recording the dangerous terrain of the northern desert. The Northern Frontier was unsettled; learning more about the enemy could never hurt. After paying, he tucked the books away and waited until the sun slanted west and the heat ebbed somewhat before slowly making his way toward that familiar martial-world haunt—Xuanyao Tavern.
The moment he pushed open the door, a mixed smell of alcohol, sweat, and blood rushed at him—the scent martial artists often carried. Lin Zhao knew the place well and found a seat in the corner. He called to the server, "Bring me a pot of Fierce Blood!"
The wine was crimson like freshly congealed blood. Even in the coarse porcelain bowl, it gave off wisps of heat. Lin Zhao took a sip, and the spicy burn traveled from his throat to his stomach. Every pore on his body burst open, and his spirit instantly lifted.
After drinking two mouthfuls, he sought out the manager to ask about martial arts manuals. The manager spread his hands and shook his head with a miserable expression. "Young Master Shen, please stop asking! No one has consigned any manuals lately, and there isn't even a shadow of the Mystic Ice Technique you want—it's an Upper Grade technique. How could it be sold so casually? No Wandering Swordsmen have taken commissions for Netherworld Grass, Evil Dust, and the like either. They all say those things are too rare and impossible to find."
Lin Zhao was not disappointed. Rare treasures were difficult to find by nature. His fingertips touched the Radiant Crystal in his cloth pouch, and the corner of his mouth lifted—getting such a large piece of Radiant Crystal on this trip to Cold Mountain City was already an unexpected delight. Each cultivation session of the [Heart Guardian Seal] required only nail-sized stone powder. This single piece would be enough for him for years.
And the most crucial purpose of his trip was only just beginning—to establish the Grand Master Craftsman reputation of "Hundred Refinements Heavenly Craftsman" Shen Luo.
Lin Zhao rose to his feet and headed straight to the commission auction area. He lifted the cloth pouch at his side, and the instant the deerskin slipped down, a chilly blue sword gleam flashed. The old craftsman responsible for appraisal stared wide-eyed on the spot.
It was a sword forged from ordinary refined iron, yet its spine was straight as a line, bearing fine hammer marks that flowed without interruption like running water. The blade glimmered coldly without so much as a trace of burr. Its guard was shaped like a tiger's head, every strand of mane polished with complete clarity, exuding an indescribable refinement.
Lin Zhao wore a Gilded Mask today, concealing most of his face and revealing only his sharply defined jaw. He said nothing, merely watching as the old craftsman repeatedly turned over the sword, inspecting it from every angle—tapping the spine with his fingers, rubbing the blade with the pads of his fingers, not even overlooking the binding cord around the hilt.
Before long, the old craftsman's eyes suddenly brightened. He turned and brought a brocade box from the inner pavilion. Upon opening it, they saw an old sword inside—the scabbard was made of blackened old cowhide, and the four seal-script characters "Blazing Fire Divine Hammer" were engraved upon it with vigorous force. Touching it, one could still feel the gentle warmth of its wooden sword core. It was the work of Grand Master Craftsman Zhao Hai, and for twenty years it had been Xuanyao Tavern's treasure of the house.
The old craftsman placed the two swords side by side on the table and summoned three senior craftsmen. The four surrounded the swords for a long while. Some measured their dimensions with rulers, some weighed them in their hands for comparison, and some gently rubbed the blades with fine sandpaper.
At last, the old craftsmen exchanged glances, and each saw shock in the others' eyes—the quality of this new sword was actually not much worse than the old sword of "Blazing Fire Divine Hammer"!
"Sir, this sword... was it truly forged by your hand?" The old craftsman's voice trembled slightly. He lowered it, as though afraid of startling someone. "May I ask your esteemed name?"
Lin Zhao's fingers tightened around the sword hilt, and beneath the mask, the corner of his mouth curved upward. He did not deliberately raise his voice, yet every word landed clearly in everyone's ears, carrying an indescribable confidence. "Naturally, Shen forged it. My name? Hundred Refinements Heavenly Craftsman!"
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