The Warmth Remaining in the Blacksmith Shop

As the setting sun dyed Sacred Soul Village in warm gold, Tang Hao walked at the front with an anvil over his shoulder. Its edge struck the stones by the roadside, producing dull clangs. Tang San followed behind, holding Lin Zhixia's hand. The little girl's hand was thin and small, with tiny cuts from gravel still on her palm, making him unconsciously loosen his grip.

Lin Zhixia kept her eyes on the dirt path beneath her feet, only occasionally glancing up at the scattered wooden houses in the distance. Her eyes were full of fear. She clutched the Bronze Arrowhead in her arms until it grew hot. It was her only link to the past, and the courage that kept her moving forward.

"My family's blacksmith shop is just ahead," Tang San said softly, as if afraid of startling her. "My father usually works there. The people in the village are all kind, so you don't need to be afraid."

Lin Zhixia nodded, but instinctively moved a little closer to Tang San. She could feel the boy's kindness, yet the image of her parents' tragic deaths still hung over her like a shadow, leaving her unable to lower her guard so easily.

The wooden door of the blacksmith shop was ajar, with several rusty iron rods piled outside. The air smelled of rust and charcoal. Tang Hao pushed the door open, set the anvil in a corner, then turned to the two children. "Tang San, take Zhi Xia to wash her face. I'll cook some porridge."

Tang San answered and led Lin Zhixia to a wooden bucket in the corner of the shop. It was filled with clear water, and the surface reflected Lin Zhixia's dirt-streaked face. Looking at her reflection, her eyes began to sting again—this face still held a child's innocence, yet had already lost the naivety it should have possessed.

Tang San picked up a clean piece of coarse cloth, dipped it in water, and held it out to her. "Wipe your face. You'll feel better."

Lin Zhixia accepted the cloth. Her fingertips touched its softness, and a trace of warmth rose in her heart. She carefully wiped her cheeks. The water washed away the dirt, revealing fair skin and a pair of reddened eyes.

"Your hand is hurt," Tang San suddenly said, pointing at her palm. Only then did Lin Zhixia realize that she had gripped the Bronze Arrowhead too tightly. A small cut had been made across her palm, and blood was seeping from it.

She hurriedly hid her hand behind her back and shook her head. "It's fine. It doesn't hurt."

But Tang San did not let it go. He took a small cloth pouch from his clothes. Inside were dried herbs—medicinal knowledge he had learned in his previous life, and after arriving in this world, he often gathered herbs in the mountains to keep on hand. He took out some herbs, crushed them on a stone, mixed them with a little water into a paste, and gently applied it to Lin Zhixia's wound.

"These herbs will stop the bleeding. It'll be better in a couple of days." Tang San's movements were gentle, his gaze focused. "In my previous life..."

The words stopped at his lips. Memories of his previous life surged over him like a tide. He had once been an outer disciple of the Tang Sect, proficient in hidden weapons and medicine, but after secretly learning the inner sect's ultimate arts, he had leapt from a cliff to prove his resolve. After coming to this world, he had thought he would live a peaceful life. Yet Lin Zhixia's experience made him realize that this world was not as simple as he had imagined.

Spirit Hall... they exterminated them all...

Tang San looked at the frail girl before him, pain stabbing through his heart. In his previous life, he had seen all the scheming and treachery of the martial world, but he had never imagined that in a world where martial souls reigned supreme, the cruelty of power could reach even a five-year-old child. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that everything would get better, but when the words reached his lips, he found that he did not know how to say them.

He knew that any hollow comfort would be powerless before the pain of losing one's family. What Lin Zhixia had experienced was something he could never truly understand. All he could do was stay by her side in silence.

"Thank you." Lin Zhixia's voice was quiet and slightly choked. She could sense Tang San's hesitation and knew he wanted to comfort her, but she did not need comfort. What she needed was strength—strength enough to avenge her parents.

Seeing the stubbornness and sorrow in her eyes, Tang San silently made up his mind. From now on, he would protect her and never let her be hurt again. He handed the remaining herbs to Lin Zhixia. "If you feel unwell anywhere else, tell me."

Lin Zhixia took the herbs, clenched them tightly in her hand, and nodded.

Just then, Tang Hao came over carrying two bowls of porridge. A few grains of millet floated in the porridge, giving off a faint fragrance. He handed the bowls to the children. "Eat quickly. You've been hungry for so long. Fill your stomach first."

Lin Zhixia took the bowl. Its warmth traveled from her fingertips into her heart. Looking at the porridge in the bowl, she finally could not hold back her tears. This was the first hot food she had eaten since her parents died, and the first time she had felt the warmth of a home.

"Eat slowly. Don't burn yourself." Seeing her wolfing it down, a trace of heartache flashed through Tang Hao's eyes. He knew what this child had been through and understood the pain in her heart, but all he could do was offer her a temporary place to stay.

While eating her porridge, Lin Zhixia secretly watched Tang Hao and Tang San. Tang Hao's face showed faint exhaustion, yet he wore a gentle smile throughout. Tang San sat beside her, quietly eating his porridge, occasionally looking up at her with concern in his eyes.

She suddenly felt that perhaps Sacred Soul Village truly could be her shelter from the storm. Perhaps these two strangers would become the people she could rely on anew.

After they finished eating, Tang Hao spread a worn cotton quilt in a corner of the shop and said to Lin Zhixia, "Sleep here tonight. Tomorrow, I'll speak to the Village Chief and arrange a place for you to stay."

Lin Zhixia nodded and walked over to sit beside the quilt. Hugging the Bronze Arrowhead in her arms, she leaned against the wall and watched Tang San help Tang Hao tidy up the blacksmith shop. Her heart gradually calmed.

Late at night, the only sound left in the blacksmith shop was the crackling charcoal fire. Tang San lay on a pile of straw beside Lin Zhixia, but sleep would not come. He looked at the curled-up girl beside him, listening to her faint breathing, his heart filled with complicated emotions.

He knew that Lin Zhixia's arrival might change his once peaceful life. Spirit Hall was immensely powerful. They would not easily spare the surviving remnants of the Lin Family, and the days ahead might not remain as peaceful as they were now.

But he did not regret bringing Lin Zhixia back. He thought of the regrets from his previous life, of the things he had failed to protect. In this life, he wanted to protect those around him—to protect this girl who had only just found warmth.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here." Tang San spoke softly, as though speaking to Lin Zhixia, and also to himself.

In the darkness, a tear slid from the corner of Lin Zhixia's eye. She clutched the Bronze Arrowhead tightly and silently recited, Father, Mother, I will live well. I will avenge you.

Moonlight streamed through the crack in the door, falling over the two children like a layer of gentle armor. The night in Sacred Soul Village was quiet, but no one knew that a story of revenge and protection was quietly beginning in this small blacksmith shop.