A Distinguished Guest Calls at the Blacksmith Shop; Pattern Spitting Reveals Profound Wonders

"Who?"

"It's me."

What was the difference between that answer and no answer at all? Cao Erzhu grumbled inwardly, but quickly opened the door.

The blacksmith shop had not yet opened for business, but since someone was knocking, perhaps they were in a hurry to collect an order, or perhaps there was some other reason.

If he heard it, he should open the door. One had to be polite to visitors—his father had taught him that.

With a creak, the wooden door opened, and a wave of heat rushed out.

Dawn had only just broken outside, and snow still drifted through the streets. Inside and outside the blacksmith shop were practically two different seasons.

One was bitter winter; the other, scorching summer.

"You are...?"

Bare-chested, Cao Erzhu planted one arm against the doorway, enough to block the entrance and leave only half his body exposed.

He lowered his head and hesitantly studied the unfamiliar middle-aged man before him, yet in the end, he could not recall who this person was.

The visitor wore a white robe, his black hair fastened with a jade hairpin. A cloud-patterned belt hung at his waist, and other than the wine gourd in his hand, he bore no other adornments.

Even so, his face was upright and dignified, his skin incomparably fair and tender. At a glance, his bearing marked him as no ordinary man.

He was definitely not someone who regularly went up the mountain to hunt deer, nor someone who slaughtered pigs at the pig farm.

He was more like the sort of important figure his father had spoken of. In any case, he seemed utterly out of place among everyone in Changde Town.

At the very least, he had to be village-chief level!

Dao Qiongchang raised his head, startled by the height