Deliberation, Punishment, and Apology!

Hong Yuan recalled the details he had seen in a film in his previous life, added a little imagination of his own, and sent his brush flying across the page.

He had never studied painting or sketching, but his control over his strength had been honed to the finest hair's breadth.

Where his brush touched the paper, the strokes seemed drawn with iron and hooked with silver. Force penetrated the sheet without the slightest smudge.

As he swept the brush through the outlines, a drawing of the Life-Taking Throat-Locking Spear sprang to life on the page in moments.

"Please, take a look, sir!"

With a casual flick, Hong Yuan sent the drawing drifting into Ou Zhenyun's hands. Ou took it, frowned, and studied it closely.

After a long while, Ou Zhenyun let out a breath and smiled.

"With the Hundred Refinement Workshop's craftsmanship, forging this spear won't be difficult. But it must come apart in two sections, join together at a moment's notice, and neither loosen nor break in battle. Those finer points will take some thought."

Hong Xiguan's original Life-Taking Throat-Locking Spear could actually be taken apart into three sections, but Hong Yuan thought two would work better.

The whole spear would be seven feet and two inches long, roughly two meters and twenty centimeters. Split in half, it would become two short lengths of about a meter each, making it easier to carry.

"How long would it take?"

Hong Yuan asked.

If it took too long, he might as well buy one outright. Whatever else Black Iron Town lacked, it had every sort of weapon.

"That depends on how high your standards are for this spear, Young Master Hong. Thirty refinements, fifty, a hundred... Forging a weapon is like practicing martial arts. It takes firmness and flexibility together: firm without snapping, flexible yet strong!"

Hong Yuan nodded. In other words, he needed both hardness and toughness.

"A hundred refinements would be best, of course, but would also take the most time—at least three months. Thirty refinements would take only one."

Ou Zhenyun smiled.

Hong Yuan thought for a moment before asking,

"Your town is famous throughout the world for Cloud Pattern Iron. I've heard it's both hard and tough. If you used it to forge the weapon, could you save some time?"

"Well..."

Hesitation flashed through Ou Zhenyun's eyes. Then he glanced again at the white-clad youth across from him, made up his mind, and said gravely,

"Cloud Pattern Iron is no ordinary metal. Forged and quenched nine times, it can surpass common iron refined a hundred times. But it's quite rare. Even here in Black Iron Town, we have little in stock, so it's extremely valuable."

In truth, price was not the issue. It was simply unavailable for purchase.

When the Ou and Xu families of Black Iron Town fired up their furnaces to forge Cloud Pattern Iron weapons, they generally used them to build ties with powerful officials and great families. Few ever passed into the hands of unaffiliated martial artists.

They would certainly never sell one to an ordinary wanderer of the martial world.

But Ou Zhenyun saw in the youth before him a rare treasure worth securing.

At such a young age, the boy possessed astonishing strength. He had pressed deep finger marks into a fine steel saber with his bare fingers.

Ou Zhenyun did not know whether a grandmaster of Subtlety could do that, but he knew several martial artists at the second stage of bodily transformation who had achieved the balance of firmness and flexibility. They could not.

This youth was still far from his peak. Give him a few years, perhaps ten, and how formidable would his martial arts become?

He might truly become someone capable of founding a school.

Winning over and investing in such a future figure early was also how Black Iron Town survived.

Even if the youth had lacked the money, Ou Zhenyun would have given him the weapon outright.

"How much, and how long?"

Hong Yuan asked directly.

"The material alone would cost around two hundred taels. But since you're in a hurry, Young Master Hong, I'll have to ask my brother Xu to help, along with the other master craftsmen and workers. Eight or nine hundred taels would be needed. That way, we could finish it within fifteen days."

Eight or nine hundred taels for a single spear!

Even if such a weapon could not be called a divine armament in the martial world, it would still be a treasured one.

Hong Yuan frowned slightly.

Afraid Hong Yuan thought he was trying to swindle him, Ou Zhenyun hastened to say,

"I haven't exaggerated a word. I stake the Hundred Refinement Workshop's decades of reputation on it. If you—"

Hong Yuan waved a hand and smiled. "You misunderstand, sir. I was only thinking that fifteen days is still a little long."

As he spoke, he took a stack of banknotes from his robe. Without bothering to count them, he set them on the counter. "These should be enough. If there's anything left over, let it be payment for the craftsmen's hard work."

Ou Zhenyun's eyelid twitched. His practiced eye swept over the stack and saw at once that it held at least two thousand taels. He could only smile ruefully to himself.

Of course. How could someone like this be short of money?

Hong Yuan had spent a great deal on his journey, but he had met even more kindhearted people. As a result, the more than five thousand taels of support he had originally obtained from the Huang Mansion had not dwindled. If anything, the sum had grown.

"Please forge this weapon for me as soon as you can, Mister Ou!"

Hong Yuan clasped his hands and took his leave.

"Why not come to my home for a visit, Young Master Hong? Let me show you a little hospitality as your host."

Ou Zhenyun hurried to stop him.

Hong Yuan waved behind him, his voice carrying back.

"No, thank you. I'd like to wander around town a bit more. If I have time later, I can always trouble you then."

By the time he finished speaking, he had left the Hundred Refinement Workshop's main hall. He brushed past a powder-faced young gentleman who still smelled of wine and perfume.

Back in the hall, Ou Zhenyun did not even look at the stack of banknotes. He waved to the middle-aged shopkeeper and said simply, "Put it on the books."

Then he hurried away with the drawing in his hands.

The powder-faced young gentleman came in, spotted Ou Zhenyun, and promptly called out, "Uncle Ou!"

But whether Ou Zhenyun did not hear or had no wish to answer, his figure vanished in a blink.

"Why's he ignoring me?"

The young gentleman muttered. Then he looked at the middle-aged shopkeeper gathering up the banknotes, and his eyes lit up.

"Oh! Someone's spending big!"

He hurried over and grinned at the shopkeeper. "Uncle, looks like a big customer came in. Lend me a few notes to spend."

As he spoke, he reached for the money.

Smack! The shopkeeper produced a ruler from somewhere and struck the back of his hand. The young man yelped in pain and complained without stopping.

The shopkeeper looked at him and sighed helplessly.

Black Iron Town had been founded by a group of craftsmen of humble standing. But more than a century had passed. With such vast holdings, the families they had established had long since transformed into wealthy clans.

Accustomed to a wealthy clan's luxuries, many of their descendants naturally could not bear the hardship of forging.

Those with ambition went into trade, joined the army, or took part in family affairs. But there were also plenty of idle, dissolute young men.

The powder-faced gentleman before him was from the Xu Family. He spent his days drinking, chasing women, and gambling, and never did a lick of honest work.

"Uncle, there must be one or two thousand taels in notes here, right? Who's so generous?" Even after taking a blow from the ruler and crying out several times, the young man kept pestering the shopkeeper with question after question.

Worn down by his pestering, the shopkeeper gave him a brief account, though he did not mention that Hong Yuan had left finger marks in a steel saber.

"Two thousand taels just to forge a spear? That's... a big customer!"

The young gentleman's eyes darted about. He grinned. "You get back to work, Uncle. I'm off to find someone to drink with."

With that, he darted out the door.

The middle-aged shopkeeper sighed and shook his head.

His discussion with Ou Zhenyun had not taken long.

Hong Yuan walked along Black Iron Town's main street in the gentle evening breeze. The light had dimmed, and lamps were burning everywhere.

Perhaps because so many martial artists and traveling merchants passed through the town, the streets remained lively as night approached. There were a few fewer people than during the day, but the noise and bustle were greater than ever.

There was even a night-market street, packed and clamorous!

Hong Yuan was in no hurry to return to the inn, so he wandered through the night market. Before he knew it, he had reached a place decked out in flowers and willows.

Hm?

Hong Yuan looked inside. A flock of brightly dressed women laughed and beckoned, and a dense wave of perfume and powder rolled toward him. Several girls spotted him and waved him over.

Something was wrong!

Hong Yuan found this deeply suspicious. How could an upright gentleman like him have wandered into a place like this for no reason?

Fatty Huang's ghost had to be behind it!

Damn it. He should never have killed the man so easily. It had been too quick.

Even in death, Fatty Huang dared turn into a vengeful spirit to lead him astray. Hong Yuan really should have chopped him into fine mince.

Hong Yuan glanced inside. Seeing only gaudily made-up women, he gave a cold snort and strode away without a backward look.

As he walked, Hong Yuan turned his head. A figure stood at a vendor's stall, apparently talking with the vendor. It was the powder-faced young gentleman who had brushed past him in the Hundred Refinement Workshop.

Hong Yuan chuckled.

He had noticed the man long ago.

Not long after Hong Yuan left the workshop, the man had quietly followed and trailed him for an entire street.

Now Hong Yuan watched him in silence. The young gentleman grew a little awkward, exchanged a few words with the vendor, then turned, hurried a few steps, and ducked into an alley.

Once inside, he broke into a quick trot. Moments later, he emerged onto another street and hurried toward a patrol.

Night was near. The guards wore light armor and steel sabers at their waists. Ten of them patrolled the street in three groups of three, three, and four.

The young gentleman ran toward a guard who looked like the squad leader. Under the man's startled gaze, he pulled him aside and whispered, "Cousin, I've got a chance for us to make a fortune. Are you in?"

The squad leader was a stern-faced young man. His expression remained flat. "Let's hear it."

Excitement lit the young gentleman's face as he recounted what had happened in the Hundred Refinement Workshop. He failed to notice the squad leader's eyes growing colder and kept talking eagerly. "Cousin, that fellow pulled out two thousand taels without a second thought! Whew! If we grab him, won't we be rich?"

"We will."

"Cousin, you think so too? Then when do we make our move?" the young gentleman urged. "We'd better hurry, or the fellow might get away. When I followed him just now, I think he spotted me."

"Fine. We'll do it now."

Delight spread across the young gentleman's face. Then a large hand suddenly swung at him and slapped him hard across the cheek. He fell to the ground, dizzy and blinking, as half his face rapidly swelled red.

He cried out in pain, stars dancing before his eyes. It took him a long moment to recover. "Cousin, why did you hit me?"

Ignoring the astonished looks of passersby, the squad leader dragged him into a corner and snarled, "A slap is getting off lightly. I'd rather beat you to death!"

"I can't be bothered to care how much you drink, chase women, or gamble. No matter how much you spend, you always come home in the end."

"But I never imagined you could be this stupid! Have you spent so long lying on women that you've shot your brains out?"

"A man who can casually pull out two thousand taels... How long has it been since the Hundred Refinement Workshop took a commission from a single person? Even Uncle Ou received him personally, and you still dared set your crooked mind on him?"

Furious, the squad leader kicked the young gentleman several more times. Two guards approached and asked quietly, "Captain, what's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm teaching a fool a lesson!" The squad leader drew a breath and fixed his cold gaze on the trembling young man. "Drag this fool to the river over there and sober him up..."

The two guards acknowledged the order and were about to step forward when a short, sharp whistle sounded. A crisp crack followed. The young gentleman on the ground let out a heart-rending scream: a flying stone from nowhere had shattered every tooth in his mouth, and blood sprayed wildly.

Whizz! Whizz!

Two more bursts of wind cut through the air, sounding almost at the same instant as cracking bone.

The young gentleman, still struggling and screaming, watched his right hand and leg suddenly twist. His palm was nearly pierced through, left a bloody pulp. His right kneecap shattered, and a spray of blood and flesh spattered the squad leader's face.

Clack, clack. Two stones struck the wall and fell to the ground.

On a distant rooftop, Hong Yuan stood hidden in shadow, tossing a pebble in his hand. He watched the guards' faces change as they drew their steel sabers and searched their surroundings. Then he leaped unhurriedly from the roof.

"I only crippled one worthless descendant. Surely they won't pull that old trick of sending the elders after me? Great families know how to survive."

Hong Yuan headed toward the inn where he was staying.

With his keen senses, even if the powder-faced young gentleman had an elder who could not swallow this insult and gathered men to attack him, Hong Yuan would notice them from far away.

After all, could a force that had grown from a group of migrant craftsmen, taken complete control of a town, and risen to become a wealthy clan truly be full of fools?

At least, there were not many fools among those in power.

Before the time it took an incense stick to burn had passed, someone knocked on the door of Hong Yuan's room.

A steady voice sounded outside. "Young Master Hong, this old man is Ou Zhenyun. I've brought my old friend Xu Jingren to pay you a visit."

"The door's unlocked. Come in, Mister Ou."

Three people stood outside. Beside Ou Zhenyun was a broad-built man of about the same age, with bronze-colored skin: Xu Jingren, the head of the Xu Family!

Behind them stood a beautiful young woman with her head lowered. She held an exquisite wooden box, and a trace of unease showed on her face.

Ou Zhenyun and Xu Jingren exchanged a glance, both wearing rueful smiles.

Ou Zhenyun had been exceedingly attentive to a youth like Hong Yuan precisely because he wanted to win him over and put him in their debt.

After returning home, he had summoned Xu Jingren and shown his old friend the steel saber. Shocked as Xu Jingren was, he had agreed with Ou Zhenyun's thinking.

Neither had imagined that an unworthy descendant of the family would cause trouble. Fortunately, no great disaster had come of it!

As for the wastrel, the only reason they had not beaten him to death was that he was already half crippled.

Though Hong Yuan had not shown himself, both men had guessed he was responsible. They had no intention of playing deaf and dumb or pretending otherwise. After a hurried discussion, they came to apologize.

Opening the door, they saw Hong Yuan standing at the window with his hands clasped behind his back, admiring the town at night.

Xu Jingren bowed. "Young Master Hong, I am Xu Jingren. A rebellious member of my family has disturbed you, and I've come expressly to apologize."

Hong Yuan turned and smiled. "You're too serious, Mister Xu."

He made no move to help Xu Jingren straighten up.

It was only because Hong Yuan had the skills to defend himself that he had been able to vent his anger today.

Xu Jingren smiled bitterly. He took the wooden box from the beautiful young woman behind him and offered it with both hands. "This is my apology. Please accept it."

Hong Yuan sensed no danger, but he did not take it. He only smiled at Xu Jingren.

Xu Jingren had no choice but to open it himself. Inside lay a thick stack of banknotes.

Hong Yuan spotted his own notes at a glance. Xu Jingren had likely added another two or three thousand taels.

It was an exceedingly generous apology!

"Mister Ou, Mister Xu, I don't take back money once I've handed it over. Please go home. This matter is settled. I only hope you'll forge my weapon as soon as you can!"

Hong Yuan spoke firmly.

"Rest assured, Young Master Hong. Forging weapons is our livelihood. Even if neither of us sleeps, we'll finish your Life-Taking Throat-Locking Spear as soon as possible!"

Ou Zhenyun's voice was solemn.

"There's no need to go that far, sir. If the two of you worked yourselves sick, it would be my fault instead." Hong Yuan smiled.

Seeing that Hong Yuan truly had no intention of accepting the gift and showed no anger, Xu Jingren drew a breath and gently pushed the beautiful young woman forward. "Young Master Hong, your generosity is remarkable. You have my admiration. This is my niece, Xu Qingjing. She is eighteen. While we forge your weapon, you'll have no one to look after you. Why not let her attend to you?"

Before entering the room, Xu Qingjing's heart had been full of dread. She had seen the wastrel's wretched state, and he was of an older generation in the family than she was.

Though they were not close, the sight had conjured an image of a fierce, vicious man in her mind. The thought of her family head sending her to serve someone like that had terrified her.

But the moment she entered and saw the youth across from her, her cheeks flushed. After one glance, she lowered her head and dared not look again, though her eyes shone with a watery light.

Hong Yuan glanced at the girl. She was indeed beautiful as a flower. He smiled. "How could such a lovely young woman be made to serve someone? I'm only a wandering martial artist, and I'm not used to being waited on..."

Hong Yuan naturally liked fine wine and beautiful women.

But while he was not afraid of a sudden attack, plots and tricks were another matter—poison, for instance. Until his body had truly surpassed human limits, he dared not be that reckless!

"That's enough, you two. Please head home. If you keep being so courteous, I really will get angry."