Refining Grass to Transform Qi

Uncle Hong watched Yan Nu grow proficient, and then also began to forge with all his heart.

They worked up a sweat, hammering away until late evening.

Counting from the morning meal, full ten hours had passed by now, though Yan Nu had arrived halfway through and actually only forged for four hours.

Even so, they had produced fifty-two catties of refined steel! This was simply because Yan Nu had grown more and more skilled as he went on, raising their speed.

In contrast, having performed below his usual standard, Uncle Hong hadn't even reached twenty catties by the end of the day.

"All right, all right, take a break." Seeing the steward come to inspect, Uncle Hong knew it was time for the meal.

The servants inside the fort had two meals a day, one in the morning and one in the evening. Having done heavy physical labor all day long, they were now each and every one dizzy with hunger.

"Can we finish it?" Yan Nu put down his hammer, only to notice his palms were mangled.

"Probably, but... wait, your hands!" Uncle Hong noticed Yan Nu's injuries and immediately realized this was caused by the recoil and friction of the hammer handle.

Actually, this was a very normal situation. Uncle Hong's hands were covered in calluses, and having long since grown used to it, he was fine.

Yan Nu was young, and on top of that, the power of every hammer strike was immense, making the recoil force all the greater.

"Does it hurt?"

"It hurts!" Yan Nu spoke the truth.

Not only were his palms battered, but his arms and even his waist muscles suffered from severe strain, and his shoulders were numb. Aching and stinging, he felt every kind of misery.

After all, true qi was true qi, and physical strength was physical strength.

With insufficient bone and muscle strength, relying purely on the explosive bursts of true qi to make his hammer strikes fiercer caused him to twist his own muscles.

Moreover, he did not understand the methods for protecting oneself with true qi. Every single swing of the hammer was a solid torture to his tendons and bones, and after four hours, the load was simply too heavy!

Uncle Hong checked and found the injuries extremely severe. Understanding his situation, he reproached him, "You've damaged your tendons and bones. Why didn't you stop sooner?"

"Uncle Hong, you said we have to finish the quota so the steward will tell me news of Grandpa." Yan Nu grinned broadly.

Uncle Hong secretly cursed himself for running his mouth again. He had watched this child grow up from a few years old to now, and the boy was truly dead set in his ways.

He had just said it offhandedly. In truth, even if the quota was met, at most the steward would generously reward them with a good meal, and would not necessarily answer every question asked.

"Sigh, wait for Uncle to ask for you."

Their large group of craftsmen gathered in front of their respective furnaces and laid out their finished products.

The steward was followed by several local braves, inspecting them one by one. When he reached Uncle Hong's furnace, he jumped in fright! There were actually over seventy catties?

"Well, you surnamed Hong, you've been slacking off all this time, haven't you?"

Uncle Hong quickly said, "No, no, I just performed beyond myself today..."

"Tomorrow I'm raising your quota!" The steward snorted and walked past.

Uncle Hong felt rather helpless. In the end, he still hadn't mentioned the matter of Yan Nu possessing true qi.

He knew Yan Nu was an upright child; since the boy said he had never learned martial arts, he certainly hadn't.

That being the case, this surge of true qi was very suspicious. Could it be... that back then, when he went to the medicine room of the martial arts training grounds, he secretly picked up some miraculous elixir and ate it?

If that were the case, it would be a great calamity.

Originally, the boy had been beaten half to death just for being found taking medicine to treat an illness. If the nobles found out that some miraculous elixir was missing, wouldn't they skin Yan Nu alive?

"You lot aren't bad, two hundred and ninety-two catties..."

"But the Fort Master ordered three hundred catties a day, and you still haven't met the quota! Do you still want to eat or not?"

The steward began his routine lecture. The crowd was first startled that there was so much, then hurriedly pleaded, "We want to, we want to, please, Steward, grant us a bite to eat."

"Steward, please show some mercy."

"I don't want to starve to death."

"I beg you, we will definitely finish the quota tomorrow!"

The many craftsmen displayed their various skills, wiping away tears and pleading.

Only then did the steward put on a reluctant air and say, "Very well. Compared to last time, you have indeed produced quite a bit more, and you truly applied yourselves. I'll go speak with the Fort Master first and beg him to give you another chance."

The crowd knew he was putting on a show, but they had no choice except to offer up every flattering word they had.

Yet right at this moment, Yan Nu suddenly shouted, "The quota is met! There are three hundred and two catties right here!"

"Hm?" The steward's brow furrowed.

The others looked over in panic. Who was this? Who was so bone-headed?

Wasn't it enough just to have food to eat? Whether the quota was met or not, what did it have to do with them? No matter how much more they forged, not a single catty belonged to them.

"Yan Nu'er!" The steward glared furiously. "What do you know! If I say it's not enough, it's not enough!"

Uncle Hong hadn't expected Yan Nu to actually run over and recount the pile while the steward was lecturing.

He hastily said, "Yan Nu'er is a fool, a simpleton, everyone knows this. Please, Steward, don't lower yourself to his level."

"Ah... yes, yes..." Everyone else chimed in to help.

The steward held his head high and said, "Yan Nu'er, I said that if the inspection falls short of three hundred catties, don't even think about eating. I mean what I say! Today, you'll go hungry!"

"And as for all of you, tomorrow I'm inspecting three hundred and fifty catties!"

With that, he flicked his sleeves and left. How many catties passed inspection depended entirely on whatever arbitrary number he felt like shouting.

Yan Nu muttered, "It clearly meets the quota..."

Uncle Hong hurriedly pulled him back. "Stop talking, go back to your room to sleep, and be careful of getting whipped again! Elder Jiang isn't here, so you listen to me!"

Seeing him mention Grandpa, Yan Nu had no choice but to drop the matter. Yet feeling deeply indignant in his heart, he actually turned back to the forge room, picked up the heavy hammer, and began hammering and forging once more!

"What are you doing?"

"Tomorrow's number is three hundred and fifty catties. I'll start forging right now, and I'll definitely reach the quota!" Yan Nu said firmly.

Uncle Hong was left gaping. "You... you really are a fool!"

"No matter how much steel you forge, what does it have to do with us? As long as everyone doesn't drop below two hundred catties, we get to eat. Why do you care what number he says!"

Yan Nu asked in return, "Didn't Uncle Hong say... if the quota is met, the steward can tell me news of Grandpa?"

"I..." Uncle Hong was at a loss for words, then sighed. "Uncle was wrong, Uncle ran his mouth. Yan Nu... no matter how much you forge, if the steward says the quota isn't met, then it isn't!"

Yan Nu blinked, then stubbornly kept hammering away with loud clangs: "What if it works? I want to try."

Uncle Hong felt helpless. Knowing that nothing he said would work, he had no choice but to leave and eat.

Night fell. Out of the rows of blacksmith shops, only the sound of Yan Nu forging rang out.

Aside from forging, he had to tend the furnace, quench, and temper all by himself, completing the entire process alone.

However, soon Yan Nu could no longer swing the hammer. Having forged iron for four hours during the day, he already felt his insides run dry; that so-called true qi seemed to have been exhausted.

Even so, he still forced himself to swing the hammer, beating it out bit by bit with abysmal efficiency.

When Uncle Hong returned and saw him like this, he couldn't help sighing, "Stop forging. If you keep going, your body will break."

"Uncle secretly brought out a few steamed buns, hurry up and eat them so you can go to sleep."

"Thank you, Uncle." Yan Nu indeed could no longer swing the hammer, so he had no choice but to stop and eat the bun.

After finishing it, a wave of refreshing satiety washed over him, and in an instant he was full of energy. He had been like this since he was small—whether he ate steamed buns or grass, everything digested extremely quickly.

Yet unlike before, he also sensed that the true qi inside his body had returned...

Yan Nu suddenly understood. It was his first time using true qi, and just moments ago he had been worrying about what to do once it ran out, only to realize now that he could recover just by filling his stomach.

He still had quite a bit of dried grass hoarded in his room; he would go eat it all in a moment!

"Uncle Hong, next time if I don't have food, don't sneak buns for me."

Servants doing heavy physical labor were still fed their fill, and the food distributed was definitely enough to eat, otherwise they couldn't handle the heavy work. The sole requirement was to eat at a designated spot with no smuggling allowed.

Once discovered, it meant a hundred lashes, and those with weak constitutions might be beaten to death.

Uncle Hong said indifferently, "It's no trouble. I just sneak a little, they won't notice."

"Who told you to call me Uncle? Sigh, if my son hadn't starved to death, he'd be as old as you."

With that, he felt a pang of sorrow.

In these troubled times, wars, famines, droughts, floods, and plagues came wave after wave.

Rebel armies, mountain bandits, Hu barbarians, monsters, and demons came surge after surge.

He had fled all the way from Jizhou as a refugee, leaving his entire family reduced to just him alone. How could he not grieve? And the wretched people inside the fort were mostly the same!

Uncle Hong wiped away a tear and suddenly sighed, "Yan Nu'er, do you want to hear Uncle speak a few words from the heart about Grandpa?"

"I do!" Yan Nu nodded vigorously.

Uncle Hong said bitterly, "Elder Jiang, along with many of the elders in Tea Mountain Fort, were treated as discarded pawns and thrown out... The Hu barbarians are pressing down on Qingzhou with aggressive momentum, and Governor Gou Xi ordered all the noble clans to dispatch troops to join forces and resist them."

"Yet all the noble clans are paying lip service while disobeying orders behind the scenes, perfunctorily going through the motions. Especially the Zhang clan here, whose fortified manor was once breached, leaving them with a blood debt against the governor—how could they possibly help? They're practically wishing the Hu barbarians would crush the governor in a great defeat! So they deliberately sent the old and weak... perhaps to pit the governor, while also clearing out the old folks they deem useless."

"The governor certainly understands these intentions, so he will undoubtedly drive the troops of the old and weak to their deaths first, to prevent them from fleeing in panic during subsequent battles and ruining army morale."

"Those people of the Zhang clan... never intended for Elder Jiang and the others to return at all."

Yan Nu said firmly, "Grandpa will definitely come back!"

Uncle Hong stopped himself midsentence. Seeing that even after hinting to this extent, the child still held naive hopes, he sighed, "If... if news comes from the front lines, I only hope you can keep a cool head... and not think about revenge."

"Good child, your temperament is fierce as fire. I knew you were fearless the day you had the audacity to take that medicine at age twelve..."

"Yet those nobles have throngs of followers under their command, and the Fort Master possesses peerless martial arts. What do you have to fight them to the death?"

Yan Nu asked as if listening attentively, "What do I have?"

"You have... ugh, I'm saying you don't have anything to fight them with!"

Uncle Hong found it somewhat amusing. "Not to mention the hundreds of local braves inside the fort, though you have some true qi, the experts within the fort each possess several years of pure internal strength, and the Fort Master along with the three instructors are first-rate experts. How could you possibly match them!"

Yan Nu wore an excited look. "How could I possibly match them?"

"I..." Uncle Hong sighed. "Uncle will ask you once more, did you really never study martial arts?"

Yan Nu shook his head.

"Then back then, when I told you there was medicine in the martial arts room, did you eat anything yourself?"

Yan Nu shook his head again.

"That's what puzzles me. Where on earth did you get this true qi, kid! Could you have been born with true qi?"

Yan Nu looked bewildered.

"To be born with true qi is unheard of and highly unlikely. So it must be that Yan Nu had some fortuitous encounter when he was young, but asking Jiang Shouyi about this... well, that's impossible now," Uncle Hong mused to himself.

Ever since he had known Yan Nu, he had never seen the boy use true qi or practice martial arts.

Even the most rudimentary breathing and circulation of qi was something he had only taught the boy today.

In other words, Yan Nu truly had harbored inner true qi all along without knowing it. If not for learning how to circulate it today, the child probably would have remained buried and obscure forever.

"Sigh, Uncle's martial arts are too crude, just family-1ierloom blacksmithing techniques that cannot compare to those true martial arts of refining essence into qi, so I cannot teach you..."

"You had best kowtow and become the disciple of an expert inside the fort. Mn... let Uncle think it over carefully... Yan Nu'er, you go back first."

Uncle Hong wanted nothing more than the best for Yan Nu, but Yan Nu's situation was special, and fearing the treacherous hearts of the martial artists inside the fort, he dared not make a rash decision.

Yan Nu did not harbor such complicated thoughts; his mind was entirely occupied with forging three hundred and fifty catties of steel.

And to forge steel, he needed true qi. To recover true qi, he needed to eat. To eat, he needed to go back and fetch the dried grass he had collected in his bedding.

"Uncle Hong, rest early, Yan Nu is heading back first." He obediently departed.

Uncle Hong felt very relieved, assuming this had persuaded Yan Nu to give up on blacksmithing, never guessing the boy was merely going back to grab grass. With that, he happily walked back to his own quarters.

Yan Nu did not live in the same place as Uncle Hong. After all, he did not strictly belong to the craftsmen and only came to help out occasionally, living instead in the lowest-tier menial servants' residential area.

It was dark and damp there, with dozens of people sleeping in a single thatched hut.

The menial servants either had not yet returned, or they came back and collapsed straight into sleep, numb and devoid of communication with one another.

From beneath his mattress, Yan Nu dug out two large bundles of dried grass, pulled out a handful, stuffed it into his mouth, and headed back toward the blacksmith shop.

This was ensilaged sheep grass; sheep loved to eat it, and he loved it too. Other things like rice straw or wheat straw simply wouldn't do.

"Mmph!" In the blacksmith shop, Yan Nu frantically chewed down the grass, swallowed it after a couple of chews,

Downing over a catty of it, he drank a bowl of cold water, feeling his entire body comfortable and filled with vital energy.

Brimming with drive, he heated an iron block red-hot and began to strike: One hammer! Two hammers! Three hammers...

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Breathing coordinated with the explosive force of his swings, the true qi inside his body surged and billowed!

Without stopping for a moment, he forged, quenched, tempered, and forged again. Repeating this endlessly, the heavy hammer spun without rest.

Sweating like rain, his focus absolute, ingot after ingot of steel was forged out by his hands.

When thirsty he drank, when hungry he ate. Supplemented by the dried grass, his true qi flowed endlessly.

Yan Nu grew increasingly proficient, consuming and burning through his true qi faster and faster until the dried grass quickly ran low.

It didn't matter, though. Once his true qi was exhausted again, he would just go pick some more; this kind of grass grew everywhere!

p.s: Apologies. Yesterday I wrote an author's note saying I wouldn't change the theme, would rather not write at all. Today I blocked out Chapter 5 because I wrote about Blazing Men. I couldn't post the subsequent chapters without getting this sorted out, but it's finally resolved. The title has been changed—it's more obscure now, and also crueler.