He looked up, about to say something, but Mang Tian had already strode to the door. He cleared his throat. "Stop dawdling! I'm taking the tools over to Old Farmer Wang. You watch the shop."
After a pause, he added, "Don't go far at noon. I made dumplings last night and saved you a plate."
Lin Qingzhou's lips curved. He picked up the Bracer and slipped it onto his wrist. It fit perfectly. "Thanks, Master."
"What are you thanking me for? I just don't want you starving and ruining my reputation."
With that, Mang Tian pushed open the door and left without looking back.
The workshop fell quiet, save for the hum of the ventilation system and the crackle of flames in the furnace.
Lin Qingzhou picked up his hammer again and was about to continue when he heard another creak. Someone pushed the workshop door open from outside.
A small, skinny figure poked halfway inside. His black hair stuck up in a tangled mess, and his face still had a boyish innocence, though the handsome contours he'd grow into were already beginning to show.
He wore the uniform of Proud Arrival Middle School and carried a bulging schoolbag over one shoulder. He gave Lin Qingzhou an embarrassed grin.
Tang Wulin.
The hammer nearly slipped from Lin Qingzhou's hand.
Ever since discovering this timeline, he had deliberately kept Tang Wulin at arm's length, maintaining little more than a nodding acquaintance. They occasionally ran into each other at the school gates and exchanged a few words.
But Tang Wulin was naturally outgoing. Before long, he'd started treating Lin Qingzhou like a friend and dropped by the workshop every few days.
Just as in the original story, Tang Wulin had become a blacksmith, and the two had become fellow apprentices. But Lin Qingzhou had always tried to avoid acknowledging that connection. He didn't want to get too involved with Tang Wulin.
"Qingzhou-ge! I knew you'd be here!"
Tang Wulin came in, tossed his schoolbag into a corner, and bounded over to the workbench. His eyes sparkled as he stared at the steel billet on the anvil.
"What are you forging today?"
As he spoke, he leaned right in, almost sticking his head over the anvil.
Lin Qingzhou hurriedly pulled him back, his voice turning stern despite himself. "Don't get so close. You might get hit by a spark."
It sounded like concern, but in truth, he was instinctively trying to keep his distance.
Lin Qingzhou knew better than anyone what this seemingly ordinary, even somewhat goofy boy would become in the future.
He didn't want to get too close to the protagonist. For one thing, he feared getting dragged into that tangled, inescapable main plot. The deeper reason was one he didn't even want to think about: he was jealous.
Jealous that Tang Wulin had been born with a Martial Soul and talent, and that a magnificent life lay ahead of him, while Lin Qingzhou didn't even have the chance to set foot on that path.
But Tang Wulin didn't notice a thing. As Lin Qingzhou pulled him back, he simply said, "Got it, got it. Oh, right, Qingzhou-ge, I came to say goodbye to you and Master."
Lin Qingzhou paused. "Goodbye?"
"Yeah! I got my acceptance letter from Eastsea Academy!"
Tang Wulin rummaged through his schoolbag, pulled out an envelope, and waved it in front of him. Excitement and pride shone all over his face.
"I leave next Monday. I didn't get into Shrek Academy, but Eastsea Academy's not bad. At least I can keep learning blacksmithing."
Eastsea Academy. Lin Qingzhou silently repeated the name.
He knew what it meant.
From this moment on, Tang Wulin's life would officially shift into the fast lane.
And he was still in this little workshop, swinging a hammer day after day, not even sure if he'd be alive tomorrow.
He pressed down the complicated emotions churning inside him. His face showed none of them as he smiled and patted Tang Wulin on the shoulder.
"That's great news. Congratulations."
"Hehe, thanks, Qingzhou-ge!" Tang Wulin scratched the back of his head, then bashfully pulled something wrapped in newspaper from his schoolbag. "Oh, and this is for you."
Lin Qingzhou took it and unwrapped it. Inside was a small handmade hammer. The workmanship was rough, but it was clear a lot of thought had gone into it. The crooked characters "Qingzhou" had been carved into the handle, as if by someone who'd only just learned to use a carving knife.
"I made it myself these past few days." Tang Wulin scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed. "Don't make fun of how ugly it is. Once I go to Eastsea Academy, I won't be coming to the workshop much. Keep it. You never know when you might need another hammer."
Lin Qingzhou held the handmade hammer, feeling the roughness of its handle against his palm.
He was silent for a long while. Then his throat suddenly tightened.
He hated this feeling, this helplessness of not knowing how to respond when someone treated him with genuine kindness.
He hated Tang Wulin's unreserved sincerity because it made his jealousy seem especially despicable.
After all, whatever the future held between Tang Wulin and Tang San, for now, Tang Wulin was just an innocent child. And he was still Lin Qingzhou's junior apprentice.
"Ugly."
Lin Qingzhou turned the hammer over twice and said as evenly as he could, "The weld's crooked, and the quenching's uneven. Don't tell anyone at Eastsea Academy you're my junior. You'll embarrass me."
Tang Wulin didn't get upset. He just chuckled. "Then teach me! When I come back for vacation, you can give me some lessons."
Then Tang Wulin's gaze fell on the brand-new Bracer on Lin Qingzhou's wrist, and his eyes lit up.
"Hey, Qingzhou-ge, you got new gear? I recognize that one. Last time I went to the equipment city with Master Mang Tian, that's the one he was looking at. I remember it was pretty expensive—several hundred Federation Currency, at least."
Lin Qingzhou froze. He glanced down at the Bracer on his wrist, then remembered Mang Tian's look when he'd claimed it was something he'd picked out of a scrap heap. Lin Qingzhou pressed his lips together, took off the Bracer, and carefully set it aside. "Master said he found it."
Tang Wulin tilted his head, clearly not understanding.
"Forget about that." Lin Qingzhou put away the hammer Tang Wulin had given him and changed the subject. "When are you leaving? I'll see you off."
"Next Monday. I've got a Soul Guidance train ticket!" Tang Wulin suddenly added, as if something had just occurred to him.
"Oh, right, Qingzhou-ge. Your forging skills are so good. Master Mang Tian told me in secret the other day that you have Innate Divine Strength. If you could awaken a Martial Soul, you'd definitely be a genius in the forging world."
Lin Qingzhou's smile stiffened for a moment.
He turned around, picked up his hammer again, and faced away from Tang Wulin. His voice was deliberately calm. "All right, quit buttering me up. I've still got a few jobs to finish. You should head back. I'll come find you when I'm done."
"Okay, I'm off. Good luck, Qingzhou-ge!" Tang Wulin didn't suspect a thing. He picked up his schoolbag and headed for the door.
Just as he was about to step outside, Lin Qingzhou suddenly called, "Wulin."
Tang Wulin turned around.
Lin Qingzhou looked at him in silence for a moment, then simply smiled. "Be careful on the way."
Tang Wulin grinned and waved. "Got it. Don't worry, Qingzhou-ge!"
The glass door closed, and the small figure soon disappeared into the morning light.
The workshop fell quiet again. Lin Qingzhou stood where he was, holding the crooked handmade hammer, and didn't move for a long time. At last, he carefully placed it at the very back of his toolbox, raised his hammer again, and brought it down hard on the steel billet on the anvil.
"Clang!"
There wasn't much he wanted to protect, but once he'd made up his mind, he wouldn't let go, even if it killed him.
No matter how hard the road ahead, even if Di Tian really came to take his life three months from now, he would do what had to be done and protect those he had to protect for every day he could still move.
Lin Qingzhou didn't know that the peaceful little daily life he was trying so hard to preserve was like steel heated red-hot. It looked hard, but the eyes watching from all sides had already set it on an anvil where anything could happen.
At the same time, deep inside an abandoned mining district thirty kilometers outside Aolai City.
Dozens of figures in black cloaks gathered silently. Their robes snapped in the wind, yet not one made a sound.
Their leader was a burly masked man. Standing at the mouth of a collapsed mine, he raised a hand and pointed toward the hazy outline of Aolai City on the distant horizon. His voice was cold as a blade.
"Have you all memorized the leader's orders? Slaughter Aolai City and capture every child under nine alive. As for the Soul Masters..."
He paused, and a vicious smile appeared beneath his mask.
"Kill them all. Leave no one alive."
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