He's Still a Child

He looked up, about to say something, but Mang Tian had already strode to the door and let out a dry cough. "Stop dawdling! I'm going to deliver these tools to Old Farmer Wang; you watch the shop."

He paused, then added, "Don't go too far at noon. I made some Chiaotzu last night and left a plate for you."

Lin Qingzhou's lips curled slightly as he picked up the bracer and fastened it to his wrist; it was a perfect fit. "Thank you, Master."

"Thank what? I'm just afraid you'll starve and ruin my reputation."

After saying this, Mang Tian pushed the door open and left without looking back.

The workshop fell silent, leaving only the hum of the ventilation system and the crackling of flames in the furnace.

Lin Qingzhou picked up his hammer again, preparing to continue, when he suddenly heard a "creak." The workshop door had been pushed open from the outside once more.

A thin, small figure poked half his body inside. His black hair was a messy, spiky mop, and his face still held the innocence of youth, though the contours of his future handsome features were already visible.

He was wearing the uniform of Proud Arrival Middle School with a bulging schoolbag slung over his shoulder, and he grinned at Lin Qingzhou with a hint of shyness.

Tang Wulin.

The hammer in Lin Qingzhou's hand nearly slipped from his grip.

Although he had deliberately kept a moderate distance from Tang Wulin ever since discovering this timeline—maintaining a nodding acquaintance and only chatting occasionally when they bumped into each other at the school gate—Tang Wulin was naturally gregarious. He would chat until he considered Lin Qingzhou a friend, running over to the workshop every few days to find him.

Just like in the original story, Tang Wulin had become a blacksmith, and the two of them had become fellow disciples. However, Lin Qingzhou had always intentionally avoided this, not wanting to get too entangled with Tang Wulin.

"Brother Qingzhou! I knew you'd be here!"

Tang Wulin pushed the door open, tossed his bag into the corner, and bounded over to the workbench in a few strides, his eyes shining as he stared at the steel billet on the anvil.

"What are you forging today?"

As he spoke, he leaned in without ceremony, his head nearly resting on the anvil.

Lin Qingzhou quickly pulled him back, his tone unconsciously turning a bit stern. "Don't get so close, watch out for sparks."

It looked like concern, but in reality, it was his subconscious desire to maintain distance.

Lin Qingzhou knew better than anyone that this seemingly ordinary, even slightly dim-witted guy before him would grow into a terrifying existence.

He didn't want to get too close to the protagonist. For one, he feared being dragged into the tangled, messy main plot. For another, a deeper reason he didn't even want to dwell on: he was jealous.

He was jealous that Tang Wulin was born with a Martial Soul, with talent, and with a magnificent life ahead of him, while he, Lin Qingzhou, didn't even have the qualifications to step onto that path.

But Tang Wulin was completely oblivious. As Lin Qingzhou pulled him back, he said naturally, "Got it, got it. Oh, right, Brother Qingzhou, I came today to say goodbye to you and Master."

Lin Qingzhou's movements paused slightly. "Goodbye?"

"Yeah! I received my acceptance letter from Eastsea Academy!"

Tang Wulin fished an envelope out of his bag and waved it in front of him, his face full of irrepressible excitement and pride.

"I'm leaving next Monday. Even though it's not an acceptance from Shrek Academy, Eastsea Academy is pretty good too. At least I can keep learning blacksmithing."

Eastsea Academy. Lin Qingzhou repeated the three words in his heart.

He knew what this meant.

From this moment on, Tang Wulin's life would officially enter the fast lane.

And he himself was still in this small workshop, swinging a hammer day after day, not even knowing if he would survive until tomorrow.

He suppressed the complex emotions churning in his heart, showing no sign of it on his face, and simply smiled as he patted Tang Wulin on the shoulder.

"That's a good thing. Congratulations."

"Hehe, thanks, Brother Qingzhou!" Tang Wulin scratched the back of his head, then somewhat sheepishly pulled something wrapped in newspaper from his bag. "Right, this is for you."

Lin Qingzhou took it and opened it to find a small, handmade hammer. The workmanship was rough, but one could tell a lot of thought had gone into it. The handle was crookedly carved with the characters "Qingzhou," looking like the work of someone who had just learned to use a carving knife.

"I made it myself during this time," Tang Wulin said, scratching his head, looking a bit embarrassed. "Don't mind that it's ugly. I won't be coming to the workshop often after I go to Eastsea Academy. Keep this; just in case you ever need a hammer."

Lin Qingzhou held the handmade hammer, the rough texture of the handle pressing against his palm.

He was silent for a long while, suddenly feeling his throat tighten.

He hated this feeling—the helplessness of not knowing how to respond after being treated with genuine sincerity.

He hated Tang Wulin's unreserved sincerity, because that sincerity made his own jealousy seem particularly base.

After all, no matter what, Tang Wulin was still just a simple child for now, regardless of how many entanglements he might have with Tang San in the future. Since they were in different camps, at least for now, he was still his junior brother.

"It's really ugly."

Lin Qingzhou turned the hammer over twice, saying in as calm a tone as possible, "The weld is crooked, and the quenching isn't even. Don't tell anyone at Eastsea Academy that you're my junior brother; it's embarrassing."

Tang Wulin wasn't annoyed, just chuckled twice. "Then teach me. When I come back for the holidays, you can give me some lessons."

At this moment, Tang Wulin's gaze fell on the brand-new bracer on Lin Qingzhou's wrist, and his eyes lit up.

"Hey, Brother Qingzhou, did you get new gear? I recognize this; the last time I went to the equipment city with Master Mang Tian, this was the model he was looking at. I remember it being quite expensive, costing several hundred Federation Credits."

Lin Qingzhou froze. He looked down at the bracer on his wrist, then recalled Mang Tian's "picked it up from the scrap heap" expression from earlier. He pursed his lips, took the bracer off, and carefully set it aside. "Master said he picked it up."

Tang Wulin tilted his head, clearly not understanding.

"Let's not talk about that." Lin Qingzhou put away the hammer Tang Wulin had given him and changed the subject. "When are you leaving? I'll come to see you off."

"The Soul Guidance train ticket for next Monday!" Tang Wulin added with sudden excitement, as if he had just remembered something.

"Oh right, Brother Qingzhou, your forging skills are so good. Master Mang Tian even told me in secret last time that you have innate divine strength. If you could awaken a Martial Soul, you would definitely be a genius in the forging world."

Lin Qingzhou's smile stiffened for a fleeting moment.

He turned around, picked up his hammer again, and with his back to Tang Wulin, his tone was deliberately calm: "Alright, stop with the flattery. I still have a few pieces of work to finish, so you should head back first. I'll come find you when I'm done."

"Sure, then I'm off. Good luck, Brother Qingzhou!" Tang Wulin didn't suspect a thing, picking up his schoolbag and walking toward the door.

Just as he was about to step out, Lin Qingzhou suddenly spoke: "Wulin."

Tang Wulin turned back.

Lin Qingzhou looked at him, silent for a moment, before finally just smiling: "Be careful on the way."

Tang Wulin grinned and waved at Lin Qingzhou: "Got it. Don't you worry, Brother Qingzhou!"

The glass door closed, and that small, thin figure soon disappeared into the morning light.

The workshop returned to silence. Lin Qingzhou stood where he was, gripping that crooked, handmade hammer, motionless for a long time. Finally, he carefully placed the hammer in the deepest part of his toolbox, raised his iron hammer once more, aimed at the steel billet on the anvil, and struck it down with force.

"Clang!"

There were not many things he needed to protect, but since he had decided on them, he would never let go, even in death.

No matter how difficult the road ahead might be, and even if Di Tian really came to take his life in three months, he would still do what needed to be done and protect those who needed protecting for every day he could still move.

Lin Qingzhou did not know that the peaceful daily life he was struggling to maintain was like that red-hot steel billet—seemingly solid, but in reality, already placed upon an anvil of uncertainty by eyes watching from all directions.

Meanwhile, thirty kilometers outside Proud Arrival City, deep within a long-abandoned mining area.

Dozens of figures clad in black cloaks gathered silently. Their robes snapped in the wind, yet they did not make a single unnecessary sound.

Leading them was a burly, masked man. He stood at the entrance of a collapsed mine shaft, raised a hand to point at the blurred silhouette of Proud Arrival City on the distant horizon, and spoke in a voice as cold as a blade.

"Have you all memorized the leader's orders? Bloodbath Proud Arrival City, and capture all children under the age of nine alive. As for the Soul Masters..."

He paused, a hideous smile appearing beneath his mask.

"Kill them all. Leave not a single one."