Preaching

After being chewed out from head to toe,

seeing Zhao Dezhu's dark expression,

the few of them exchanged glances and could only slink away in disgrace.

Once the room had fallen quiet, Zhao Dezhu sat before the table, staring gloomily out the window as his fingers lightly tapped against the tabletop.

After a while, his gaze slowly withdrew and fell upon the packet of medicine on the table that he had not yet had time to open. He picked it up again and weighed it in his hand, his eyes flickering uncertainly as though calculating something.

Sun Ping took leave for several days in a row,

leaving Shen Chu alone at his workstation in the Sword-Forging Courtyard.

Without Sun Ping's banner standing over him, the lackeys under Zhao Dezhu indeed began to stir restlessly.

First, when iron materials were being distributed, someone deliberately picked out several scraps for Shen Chu and said with a smiling face, "Master Shen, good materials are in short supply. Make do with these."

Shen Chu said nothing. He took them and stuffed them straight into the furnace.

Heating, hammering, quenching—the entire process flowed like drifting clouds and running water. With the dual boosts of [Thousand Hammer Refinement] and [Twice the Result with Half the Effort], he forcibly forged those scraps into a short blade with an exceptionally sharp edge,

its quality actually several grades better than the weapons others forged from good materials!

The man stared, dumbfounded, unable to utter a word for a long while.

Then someone else came up with another scheme.

When assigning Shen Chu's work hours, they deliberately packed his schedule full, giving him twice as much work as everyone else. They wanted him to fail to meet his quota so they could dock his wages.

Seeing this, Shen Chu sneered inwardly.

He was trying to grind progress anyway. This arrangement was exactly what he wanted.

So Shen Chu swung his hammer and got to work.

By the time work ended at dusk, he had not only completed his quota but forged two extra blades as well. Every one of them was perfectly proper, without the slightest flaw to pick at.

After several days of this, the lackeys had tried every trick they could, but Shen Chu was like a lump of tough, greasy meat—neither oil nor salt could seep into him. Not a single coin had been docked from his wages.

Instead, they spent every day watching Shen Chu and fell behind badly on their own work, earning a few lukewarm remarks from Zhao Dezhu.

Having made fools of themselves, they gathered before Zhao Dezhu again to complain. "Brother Zhao, that Shen Chu just won't budge! No matter what we do to him, he acts like nothing happened. If this keeps up, where are we supposed to put our faces?"

Zhao Dezhu did not answer. Instead, he stood in a corner of the courtyard, watching Shen Chu's figure at his workstation from afar.

The setting sun cast its lingering glow across the courtyard. Shen Chu was bent over, arranging the several blades he had just forged. Zhao Dezhu's gaze lingered on those blades for a long time, and a thoughtful look gradually surfaced in his eyes.

He ignored the lackeys' complaints and merely waved a hand. "All right, I understand. You can leave first."

That night, after the Sword-Forging Courtyard had closed for the day,

Shen Chu washed his face and was about to return to his room to practice boxing when, upon reaching the courtyard gate, he saw Zhao Dezhu coming toward him with a beaming smile.

"Master Shen, you've worked hard all day." Zhao Dezhu's attitude was far warmer than before.

"I had the kitchen stir-fry a couple of dishes and warm a pot of wine. I'd like to invite Master Shen over for a chat. Just the two of us, no one else."

Shen Chu gave him a look, his thoughts rapidly turning.

Though he did not care about being targeted these past few days, letting things continue like this was not a solution. He had never wanted to get involved in the courtyard's factional struggles, but since Zhao Dezhu had come to him of his own accord, he might as well use this chance to make things clear and save himself trouble later.

So he nodded. "All right, then I'll trouble Manager Zhao."

The two entered Zhao Dezhu's room one after the other.

Sure enough, several small dishes and a pot of warmed wine were laid out on the table. The spread was quite lavish, clearly prepared with care.

Zhao Dezhu eagerly poured Shen Chu a cup of wine, then filled one for himself. Raising his cup, he said with a smile, "Master Shen, come, let me toast you first. I've seen all the work you've done in the courtyard. You truly are a skilled hand!"

Shen Chu raised his cup, took a sip, and said nothing more.

Zhao Dezhu set down his cup and began to ramble on about past hardships and present sweetness.

His words were heartfelt and sincere. From time to time, he even let out a few sighs, his eyes growing slightly red around the rims.

The more Shen Chu listened, the more he felt something was off.

He was no greenhorn fresh out of the gate. After struggling through the workplace for so many years in his previous life, he had seen this sort of routine—first recount the bitterness, then paint a grand dream—far too often.

He could not be bothered to beat around the bush, so he directly interrupted Zhao Dezhu. "Manager Zhao, I understand what you mean. But I'm just a newcomer. I only want to forge blades steadily and hone my craft. I don't want to get involved in other matters, and I'm not interested."

Zhao Dezhu's expression stiffened slightly at being interrupted so bluntly, but he quickly returned to normal and burst out laughing. "Master Shen, you're too polite! The way you put it makes it sound as though I'm trying to pull you into doing something bad."

Then his tone shifted again.

"However, Master Shen, I've carefully compared the blades you've forged these past few days. To tell the truth, the quality of several of them is completely beyond what a newcomer should be capable of. Compared with those old masters who have worked in the courtyard for years, you are no weaker—only stronger."

Shen Chu's expression remained unchanged, but his heart gave a jolt.

He had been so focused on grinding progress lately that he had indeed failed to hold back on several blades. He had forged them too well and exposed his true level.

Looks like I'll have to be more careful about hiding my abilities in the future...

Seeing that Shen Chu did not respond, Zhao Dezhu leaned farther forward. "Master Shen, I truly think highly of you. If you are willing to work with me, I guarantee your life will be ten times better than it is now. Not only in wages and treatment, but also in certain... benefits beyond anything you can imagine."

As he spoke, his eyes grew somewhat fervent, and his voice took on an air of mystery. "People like us are born to suffer. But if we can find our true home and join our big family, calling one another brothers and sisters and helping each other, then things will be different. When that time comes, not only you, but even the people around you will share in the blessings. Do you believe that?"

At those words, Shen Chu's heart suddenly tightened.

He had seen far too many similar remarks online in his previous life.

"Big family," "brothers and sisters," "blessings"—

put together, those words were practically the standard script of pyramid schemes and cults.

Combined with the information about the Red Lotus Sect that he had previously obtained from Han Tieshan, all the clues linked together and gave him a suspicion:

Zhao Dezhu was absolutely not simply trying to recruit people. He was preaching!

Shen Chu's expression remained calm, but the highest alert had already sounded in his heart.

He did not take up Zhao Dezhu's thread. Instead, he rose directly to his feet and clasped his hands. "Manager Zhao, you know my intentions as well. I've said all there is to say. It's getting late, so I won't disturb your rest any longer. Farewell!"

With that, Shen Chu turned and left, without the slightest hesitation.