Early the next morning, Xia Xi had barely entered Village Chief Tiezhen's workshop courtyard when he saw a familiar figure already waiting there.
It was Shinjuro Rengoku.
He was sitting cross-legged on the steps outside the workshop.
He held his Nichirin Blade, its sheath laid across his knees, with a sake flask beside him.
He waved to Xia Xi from a distance.
"Yo, looks like you're doing pretty well in the Swordsmith Village."
"Even the workshop you're using belongs to old Tiezhen."
Xia Xi walked up, glanced at the sake flask beside him, and raised an eyebrow.
"So, did the esteemed Flame Hashira come to drink with me today, or to watch me forge?"
Shinjuro laughed. "I just wanted to talk to you some more."
Only then did Xia Xi lead Shinjuro into Tiezhen's courtyard.
The village chief was away that day.
Haganezuka, however, was there as an apprentice, helping Xia Xi clean and organize his tools.
Seeing Xia Xi bring in an outsider, he merely gave him a brief glance.
A Hashira from the Demon Slayer Corps?
His gaze dropped to the man's hands.
Those hands were strong and covered in calluses from sword practice.
But they lacked the distinctive wear and scars left by years of wielding a hammer.
Hmm, not a blacksmith's hands.
He promptly lost interest in Shinjuro and turned back to fiddling with his unfinished blade.
"Go on, then. What else can't you figure out?"
Xia Xi asked the esteemed Flame Hashira as he picked through the crimson red iron sand.
"Don't tell me you're just here to chat. My time's tight. If you only came to drink and shoot the breeze, count me out."
Then he added another remark.
"Of course, I won't tell Lady Ruka you've been sneaking sake."
At that,
Shinjuro instinctively