Learning to Forge 1

After a night of meditation, Tang Wulin slowly opened his eyes.

His mind felt clear and serene, every stray thought dispelled. His spiritual power was unusually full and lucid, and the fatigue and troubled feelings of the past few days had been swept away.

When he left his room, he discovered that the rest of the family had already finished breakfast.

Seeing him, Tang Ziran went straight over and drew him aside in the living room. His expression was solemn; he intended to have a proper talk with him about becoming a forging apprentice.

"Wulin, you've been telling me that you want to learn forging. I've thought it over again and again lately, and I've finally decided to support your choice."

Tang Ziran sighed softly, his voice filled with helplessness before the realities of life, and patiently explained the harshest pressures they faced:

"You know how expensive a Soul Master's cultivation is. To break through the rank-ten bottleneck, you have to absorb a soul spirit in place of the Soul Rings used in the past. But soul spirit prices across the continent are sky-high these days. Even the most basic, ordinary ten-year soul spirit costs over a hundred thousand federal coins. An ordinary hundred-year soul spirit can easily cost over a million, and a high-quality one can approach ten million."

"Every ten ranks, a Soul Master has to absorb a soul spirit to advance. As you continue cultivating, the expenses become a bottomless pit. In the old days, people on the continent obtained Soul Rings by hunting soul beasts, but after ten thousand years of development, soul spirits have completely replaced them. Soul spirits are gentler and safer, and high-level ones can even grow. They can also be cultivated artificially. Essentially, they're spiritual crystals condensed from soul beasts, and a single high-quality soul spirit can even grant a Soul Master several Soul Skills."

"And all legitimate soul spirits can only be purchased from the Spirit Pagoda. My abilities are limited, and my salary is meager. I can barely keep our family fed and clothed, but I simply don't have the extra money to keep buying soul spirits for you so you can pursue the path of a Soul Master without worry."

"So I fully support your decision to learn forging. Forging is a genuine, practical skill. Once you've mastered the craft, you'll be able to support yourself and earn the money you need for cultivation."

At this point, Tang Ziran changed the subject and asked, "Do you still remember Uncle Mang Tian?"

At his words, the image of a tall, burly middle-aged man with fierce, rugged features immediately surfaced in Tang Wulin's mind. He nodded without hesitation. "I do. I even asked Uncle Mang Tian about forging before."

"That's right." Tang Ziran spoke slowly, explaining what had happened before. "When you were four, I told Mang Tian that you wanted to learn forging, but he refused outright. First, you were too young. Forging requires brute strength to swing a hammer and work metal at high temperatures. A child's body simply can't withstand it. Second, he thought you were just a curious little boy who could only study some theory and couldn't endure the real physical toil."

"But I went to his door again these past few days to ask him. After considering how you've been doing lately, he finally relented and agreed to take you on as an apprentice."

"You'll go there for two hours every day after school. For the first three months, you'll only study forging theory, basic techniques, and force control. There's no need to rush into working iron. After three months, if you've mastered basic forging and can make simple ironware, you can take small orders to earn money, help with household expenses, and save up for your cultivation."

After hearing this, Tang Wulin's eyes lit up. Unable to conceal his delight, he immediately asked, "When can I go?"

Looking at his eager son, Tang Ziran smiled and cautioned him, a meaningful look in his eyes. "Forging is a hundred times harder than school. Swinging a hammer and working iron day after day is tedious and exhausting. Your hands will develop blood blisters, and your body will ache unbearably. Are you really ready? If you regret it halfway through, it'll be too late."

Without the slightest hesitation, Tang Wulin nodded firmly, his gaze unwavering. "I can do it. I'm not afraid of hardship."

"All right. Then give it a try."

Once everything was settled, Lang Yue tidied up briefly, then took Tang Wulin out to the forge.

Aolai City was a small city to begin with and did not cover much ground. Mang Tian's forging workshop was not far from their home. After walking for a little over twenty minutes, mother and son arrived outside a small, unremarkable shop with a plain storefront.

Its old, heavy wooden door was shut. A slightly weathered wooden sign hung beside it, bearing a simple inscription—Mang Tian Forging.

When they pushed open the wooden door, a thick mingling of rust and heated metal rushed into their faces, filling the entire space.

Lang Yue reached up and pressed the doorbell beside the entrance. A moment later, a tall, imposing figure emerged from the depths of the workshop.

It was Mang Tian. He was tall and powerfully built, his skin dark and rough from years at the forge. A thick, unruly beard covered his face, his features were sharp, and a fierce, formidable aura surrounded him, warning strangers to keep their distance.

"You're here, sister-in-law."

Mang Tian's voice was deep and gravelly, making him sound particularly fierce.

This was far from Tang Wulin's first time meeting Mang Tian, yet he still felt an involuntary twinge of apprehension every time. With such fierce features and that bristling beard, anyone meeting him for the first time would feel intimidated.

He immediately gathered himself, obediently stepped forward, and bowed properly to Mang Tian, greeting him politely.

Mang Tian merely gave an expressionless nod, showing no other reaction, then turned to Lang Yue. "Come back for him in two hours."

Lang Yue looked at her son with reluctant eyes, repeatedly reminding him to obey and work hard. Then she said softly to Mang Tian, "Sorry for the trouble, Brother Mang Tian."

With her instructions finished, Lang Yue turned and left the forge, and the heavy wooden door slowly closed.

Mang Tian gave Tang Wulin a small beckoning gesture. "Come in."

This was Tang Wulin's first time entering Mang Tian's actual forging workshop.

The main room was hardly spacious; in fact, it could only be called chaotic. Metal blanks of every description, discarded parts, and forging tools were piled densely across the floor and shelves, with no apparent order.

Tang Wulin, who had mildly obsessive tendencies, felt rather uncomfortable looking at the mess before him.

Still, he had read extensively on forging, so he recognized every tool around him at a glance. He could even tell that many of the parts piled here were precision components specifically for Soul Guidance Mecha.

Mang Tian did not linger. He strode straight inside, and Tang Wulin quietly followed close behind him. They passed through a long, narrow corridor and reached the innermost forging room.

A heavy, sturdy forging bench stood in the center of the room. Mang Tian stopped and turned to the young Tang Wulin before him, getting straight to the point. "What do you think forging is?"

After a moment's thought, Tang Wulin answered calmly, "In simple terms, forging is the process of removing impurities from raw metal through repeated hammering and refining, then shaping ordinary metal into the desired object. In the current age of Soul Masters, every core component of both the Battle Armor essential on the battlefield and the widely used Soul Guidance Mecha depends on a blacksmith's shaping and craftsmanship."

A flicker of surprise passed through Mang Tian's eyes, and his interest grew. He nodded slightly. "It seems you really have read quite a few books on the subject."

"I've only scratched the surface," Tang Wulin said humbly, lowering his head.

Mang Tian's expression became impassive again. His words were blunt and harsh, without the slightest concession. "To tell you the truth, I never wanted to take you on. You're too young, and your body is still immature. You simply can't bear the hardships of forging. I also know you've read through almost every book in Aolai City's library, so your theoretical foundation is solid. But forging has never depended on book knowledge. It takes real strength and perseverance."

"I'm only giving you a trial because your father asked me over and over. If you can't even pass the most basic test, leave immediately. Don't cry or throw a tantrum here. Understand?"

"I understand. I won't cry, and I won't give up." Tang Wulin's eyes were resolute, without the slightest trace of retreat.

"Good."

Mang Tian pointed to a black metal forging platform half a meter high beside them. A rounded, solid metal blank sat in its center, and an electronic force display was attached to its side.

Then he picked up two small forging hammers and placed them directly into Tang Wulin's hands.

"See this metal blank and force display? Hold one hammer in each hand and strike the metal with alternating hands, five hundred times per hand. You must put your whole body's strength into every blow and meet the required impact force. Only when you've completed every strike will I teach you real forging knowledge."

"If you can't make it through, don't come back tomorrow."

With that, Mang Tian said nothing more. He turned and left the workroom, leaving Tang Wulin alone to face this entrance test.

Tang Wulin lowered his head and examined the two hammers in his hands.

Each hammer was about a foot long, with a neatly cylindrical head half a foot long and a full ten centimeters across. Each weighed five kilograms.

Even an adult needed to exert some effort to handle a five-kilogram iron hammer, let alone a six-year-old child like him.

For an ordinary person, merely holding up such a hammer in one hand for a short while would leave their arm aching and weak. To keep swinging it for five hundred strikes per hand, a thousand in total, was a challenge whose difficulty was easy to imagine.

Yet as Tang Wulin tightened his grip on the heavy iron hammers, he felt no fear. Instead, a glimmer of confidence appeared in his eyes.

Holding the two heavy, five-kilogram hammers, Tang Wulin instantly sorted out the key to applying force in forging.

Blind brute force would only rebound upon him. Forces were reciprocal. Every forceful strike would send the recoil straight up the hammer into his arm. Before long, both arms would be numb and aching, and he would never finish a thousand blows.

This was the most basic principle of Newtonian mechanics, F=ma: the harder he struck, the stronger the recoil.

The true first lesson of top-level forging was never to smash away with brute strength, but to turn force to his advantage, release it with the momentum, and dissipate the recoil from each blow, reducing the strain on his body as much as possible.

This was also the first essential skill every beginning blacksmith had to master.

Tang Wulin drew a deep breath, settled his mind, and slowly raised both hammers.

The next instant, dull, powerful hammer blows suddenly rang through the forging room.

Bang, bang! Bang, bang!

His hammering followed a varied, measured rhythm rather than rigidly alternating equal blows. Sometimes he struck nine times with his left hand and six with his right; sometimes three with his left and six with his right. Alternating between fast and slow, he applied force with the momentum of each falling hammer, then released the recoil the instant it rebounded, perfectly turning its force to his advantage.

Even so, the continuous hammering gradually numbed his arms. Tang Wulin immediately spread his feet and settled into a firm horse stance. His body stood straight as an ancient pine rooted in the earth, distributing the impact from his arms through his waist, legs, and entire body as he steadied himself and continued hammering.

The numbers on the force display beside the forging platform jumped wildly with every heavy strike. His force remained steady and sufficient, without weakening once.

Thanks to his deft force-dissipation technique, the first two hundred strikes placed little strain on him.

But from the three-hundredth strike onward, soreness engulfed both arms. Fine beads of sweat slid down his forehead, soaking the blue hair above it. He stopped deliberately counting and immersed himself completely in the hammering. Instinctively following its rhythm, he worked the metal blank, attempting to simulate the genuine forging techniques used to remove impurities and shape metal.

Four hundred, six hundred, eight hundred...

Sweat poured down like heavy rain. His clothes were soaked through and clung tightly to his young back. His arms had long since ached into numbness, and his stamina was draining rapidly.

By the nine-hundredth strike, Tang Wulin was on the verge of exhaustion. His limbs felt immensely heavy, and he could barely lift the iron hammers.

Yet the instant his stamina reached its limit, a vast, gentle, hidden power suddenly surged from within him. It silently supported his exhausted body, continuously replenishing his stamina and sustaining his hammer swings.

It was the golden dragon king bloodline concealed within him, spontaneously awakening and exerting its power as his body reached its limit.

Tang Wulin was startled, but he did not stop. Drawing on this unexpected strength, he continued hammering steadily.

One thousand strikes, eleven hundred, twelve hundred... all the way to fifteen hundred!

He had far exceeded Mang Tian's requirement of a thousand standard hammer blows.

Only when his arms had completely lost sensation and he could no longer lift the hammers even a fraction did Tang Wulin slowly set them down, bending over and gasping for breath.

His hands were now numb and stiff, and he could barely feel his arms at all. Yet a warm current flowed through the meridians throughout his body, leaving him comfortable all over with a deeply satisfying sense of clarity.

On his back, beyond his sight, an exceedingly faint blue-green pattern slowly rose along his spine and spread toward his sea of consciousness, quietly nourishing his spiritual power and flesh. It was a sign that the blue silver emperor bloodline had been stirred slightly awake by the hammering at his limits.

Tang Wulin sat down where he was to rest. Only after a full eight minutes did the fatigue and numbness throughout his body slowly subside.

Once he had recovered, he left the forging room and found Mang Tian in the adjoining parts room, bent over some Soul Guidance Parts he was troubleshooting. Tang Wulin said softly, "Uncle Mang Tian, I'm finished."

Mang Tian's hands paused. He abruptly raised his head to look at him, his eyes filled with incredulous shock. "You're finished?"

He had deliberately set the harsh test of a thousand hammer blows, expecting this six-year-old child to need at least an hour and a half to barely complete it. More likely, he would be unable to endure it and give up halfway through. Yet now, less than half an hour had passed since the test began.

Mang Tian instinctively looked at Tang Wulin's hands.

The mangled, blood-blistered hands trembling uncontrollably that he had expected were nowhere to be seen.

The boy's palms were only slightly red, with no more than faint signs of soreness. There were no splits or blood blisters. His grip on the hammers was merely a little tight, and his breathing slightly quickened. Apart from that, he was in far better condition than Mang Tian had imagined.