The Grace of Teaching

The night at the border fortress always fell quickly; it was barely dusk, yet all around was pitch black, with only the faint yellow glow of oil lamps visible inside the military tents.

That evening, Li Qing took two rice bowls and headed straight to the kitchen. He keenly noticed that the soldiers lining up for food today all wore grave expressions, the atmosphere not as cheerful as usual.

It probably had to do with those who had returned severely wounded that afternoon—such heavy injuries, blood soaking through their clothes, they likely wouldn't survive.

Leaving the border fortress was never going to be a simple trip you could just set off on; this matter required careful planning, at least starting with scouting the surroundings, since deserting the army was a serious crime in the Feng Kingdom.

Li Qing thought this to himself as he followed the crowd into the kitchen.

The cook on duty today was Wu Chong, a year or two older than Li Qing. Because they were close in age, the two had a good relationship in the army.

Seeing Li Qing's honest, simple face enter, Wu Chong winked at him, then ladled several extra pieces of braised pork into the rice bowl Li Qing had brought, covering them tightly with two coarse grain buns.

"Hey, did someone deliver food to the wounded soldiers' camp today?" Li Qing glanced at his bowl and asked curiously.

As a cook, Wu Chong's build fit the role perfectly—round and plump all over, his face full of fat, his eyes squeezed into slits by the flesh.

"Yeah, before it even got dark tonight, the wounded camp came to pick up food and told me to add an extra piece of meat," Wu Chong replied with a grin.

"Oh, right, right—I was the one cooking this batch of braised pork. Go back and see how it tastes."

With that, Wu Chong winked again.

Seeing this, Li Qing wondered how the man managed to squeeze such lively expressions out of his fat-covered face.

"You should eat less on the sly. You're already this fat—if a fight breaks out one day, you won't even be able to run!" Li Qing teased.

"Heh heh, a cook who doesn't steal, the grains won't yield! Alright, alright, you'd better get going." Wu Chong chuckled.

Li Qing felt speechless at this, said nothing more, and left the kitchen, carrying the two bowls back to his tent.

But he didn't enter his own tent first; instead, he lifted the flap of the adjacent tent and stooped inside.

"Master, time to eat," Li Qing said, walking to the bedside and setting the bowls on the table.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

On the bed, an old man on the verge of death coughed incessantly.

It was hard to imagine that at a border fortress, there would be an old man with one foot already in the grave.

This was Master Gu, the blacksmithing teacher Li Qing had been learning from.

Master Gu lay on the bed, his aged, weathered face now dotted with several age spots he hadn't had before.

Yet when he opened his eyes, they still burned brightly, the pupils like two flickering candle flames.

Master Gu studied Li Qing's face for a long while before letting out a long sigh, picked up the bowl, and began eating heartily—his appetite nothing like that of an ordinary old man.

Seeing this, Li Qing also grabbed two coarse grain buns and bit into them, savoring the glossy, oily braised pork.

Soon, Master Gu set down his bowl and looked at Li Qing again.

When Master Gu stared at him, Li Qing felt like a rabbit caught by a lion, his heart trembling uncontrollably.

He didn't even dare meet his master's gaze—that imposing, intimidating look in his eyes was far too frightening.

"Er Niu, how long have you been learning blacksmithing from me now?" Master Gu called Li Qing by his childhood name.

Li Qing quickly swallowed the food stuffed in his mouth and mumbled, "A year and a half, Master! Almost two years now."

"Heh, it's been that long already, huh. I remember when you first came, your legs weren't even as thick as someone else's arm." A rare trace of a smile appeared in Master Gu's eyes; at his age, he always enjoyed reminiscing.

"Li Qing thanks Master for passing on his skills!" With that, Li Qing moved to kneel, his gratitude genuine.

He had originally been conscripted as a soldier at the border, but Master Gu had taken a liking to him and accepted him as a blacksmith apprentice.

"Cough, cough, get up, child." Master Gu caught Li Qing as he knelt and lifted him back up.

Li Qing, who had been about to kneel, was inwardly surprised—his aged master was much stronger than he had imagined.

Though Master Gu was a renowned blacksmith in the army, ever since taking Li Qing as his apprentice, he rarely forged weapons himself, leaving most of the work to Li Qing.

Li Qing didn't mind this at all—forging each weapon earned him lifespan, so why wouldn't he enjoy it?

"Er Niu, why do you like blacksmithing so much?" Master Gu asked after helping Li Qing up.

Because it lets me earn lifespan—

Of course, Li Qing would never say that out loud; he planned to keep this secret tightly guarded.

In this era, longevity was an unattainable luxury, especially for rulers, who would do anything to extend their lives.

Setting aside distant examples, even his own master, who was nearing death—if he learned that forging weapons could grant lifespan, this seemingly decent master-apprentice bond would likely turn brittle in an instant.

"Because after forging each weapon, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction, like I'm a useful person." Li Qing's answer didn't surprise Master Gu.

"Heh, it seems you truly love blacksmithing. No wonder your forging skills have improved so fast."

"Cough, cough!"

Master Gu let out a soft laugh, then coughed violently, as if he might cough up his lungs.

"This border fortress isn't a good place to live. War is coming soon. If you get the chance, leave the border and head south—the land and water there nurture people, and you'll live longer." Master Gu spoke between coughs.

Hearing these words, Li Qing's heart trembled again. If his master's words got out, it would likely mean execution.

Deserting the army on one's own was a serious crime!

Even the army's blacksmiths couldn't leave easily, unless they had rendered great merit.

Li Qing did not dare to respond, silently gathering up the rice bowls instead.

"Master, I'll go wash the bowls."

Master Gu watched Li Qing's retreating back, shaking his head with a hint of frustration at his disciple's lack of promise. Then he reached under the bed and pulled out a dusty tome.

"Wait. Take this."

Thump!

Master Gu tossed the dust-covered book at Li Qing's feet, sending a cloud of dust flying into the air.

Li Qing looked down, then turned around with a deliberately confused expression, asking curiously, "Master, what is this?"

"Everything I've learned in this life is in here. Go back and study it well. Cough, cough, cough!"

Upon hearing these words, Li Qing couldn't help but feel a sting in his nose. He knew his master was essentially entrusting him with his final legacy.

Immediately, Li Qing set down the rice bowls, knelt, and performed a deep bow.

"Master!"

Regardless of anything else, he had accepted this gift of knowledge. And during this time, when it came to forging and smithing, the man had taught him without reservation, never once harboring the narrow-minded fear that teaching a disciple would starve the master.

And so, Li Qing tucked the thick tome under his arm, picked up the two rice bowls, and left his master's tent.