That night, Qin Tiexin did not go to bed on time.
After Li Zhenwei left, he carefully barred the front and back doors, turned the oil lamp up as bright as it would go, and laid the old saber flat on the cleaned anvil. Instead of immediately studying how to repair it, he fetched a small stool and sat before the anvil, gazing at it quietly for a long, long time.
The yellow lamplight danced over the gleaming blade and its savage crack. He reached out with freshly washed hands, avoiding the edge, and brushed his fingertips very lightly, very slowly over the spine, the guard, and the cord worn smooth around the hilt. It felt cold and hard, yet he seemed able to reach through that metal shell and touch something deeper.
He closed his eyes, letting General Li's low, calm account from earlier that day echo through his mind-a brother's last charge, a desperate counterattack, an enemy with a severed arm, years of campaigning, the crushing blow of a spiked club... Scene after scene, like hazy painted scrolls, gradually overlapped with and bore witness to the crisscrossing scratches beneath his fingers, the dark red that would not wash away, and that horrifying crack.
He seemed to "see" how the saber's edge had curled and chipped through repeated slashes, only to be carefully honed by its owner; how it had soaked in enemies' hot blood and its owner's sweat; how, under that final devastating blow, it had groaned beneath an unbearable burden as this fatal wound split open from within.
Was this "Intent"?
It was not some mysterious soul, but a will condensed from countless moments of life and death, an imprint left by repeated soakings in blood and oaths, a wordless understanding and resonance forged between a person and a weapon over long years. This saber "remembered" the path of every swing, the recoil of every parry, the burning heat from its owner's palm as he roared, and the mournful cry and defiance that had come when the crack opened, seemingly from the depths of a soul.
It knew it was going to "die." That "Intent," bound to its owner by blood and companionship on the battlefield, was slowly dissipating as the crack spread.
Qin Tiexin felt a slight tightness in his chest. He understood no profound principles, but he now understood why General Li insisted on repairing it instead of replacing it with a better saber. Some things could not be replaced.
He gently grasped the hilt, as carefully as though cradling an injured bird. "Don't be afraid," he whispered, barely audible in the silent shop. "Together... we'll think of something."
From that day onward, the focus of Qin Tiexin's life shifted completely.
He still rose early every day to train his body, but after eight cycles, he no longer went straight to chopping firewood or rough-forging iron. Instead, he would cradle the saber in the morning light or the light reflected off the snow, examining and pondering it over and over, measuring every inch with his fingers and feeling with his heart for the faint pulse of its lingering "Intent."
While chopping wood, he considered the forces a saber endured when slashing; while eating, he pondered ways to join different materials. At night, when he entered the "Virtual Realm · Forging Hall," he no longer studied broadly, but specifically sought ancient fragments of knowledge concerning "weapon repair," "residual Intent Power," "structural reinforcement," and "fusion of dissimilar metals." Those records were abstruse and obscure, and many principles lay far beyond his current understanding, but like a dry sponge, he desperately absorbed every scrap of potentially relevant information. Combining it with his understanding of the saber, he sketched one preliminary repair plan after another in his rough-paper notebook-how could he reconnect the crack? How could he make up for the lost strength? How could he keep that "Intent" from dissipating during the repair?
Li Zhenwei visited twice during this period. Each time, Qin Tiexin brought out his messy sketches and proposed bold, even wildly fanciful ideas.
"Uncle Li, I've considered using the 'steel-sandwich method.' If we found a fine steel core, embedded it on either side of the crack, and forged everything back into one piece, perhaps we could reconnect it and increase its strength." Qin Tiexin pointed to a spot on the sketch. "But the difficulty is that the old and new steel must fuse perfectly. Otherwise, stress will concentrate at the joint, and it will still break there. And... it might change the saber's balance and feel."
Looking at the boy's earnest face and bloodshot eyes, Li Zhenwei was shaken. These ideas already went far deeper than those of the smiths who could only say "melt it down and reforge it" or "it can't be repaired."
"And this." Qin Tiexin turned another page. "I considered 'sectional quenching,' giving only the repaired area special treatment so the rest of the blade retains its original toughness, while pushing the repaired section to the utmost hardness to withstand another impact. But that requires extremely precise control of the heat. I... can't be sure of that yet."
He even suggested, "Perhaps... instead of completely closing the crack, we could 'rivet' or 'weave' a tough metal over its surface, like patching a wound. It would preserve its original appearance while allowing it to withstand some force. But that... might not look very good, and it wouldn't be sturdy enough."
Each time, Li Zhenwei listened attentively, occasionally adding details about his habits when using the saber. Each time, after explaining at length, Qin Tiexin shook his head and rejected his own proposal. "No, there would be a problem with force transmission here..." "This might interrupt the continuity of its 'Intent'..." "Based on the estimated strength, I'm afraid it would only last a few years..."
Li Zhenwei could see that the boy was not seeking merely to "repair it," but to "repair it properly"-to make it sturdy and durable, preserve its original essence, and, above all, maintain that precious "Intent." Such persistence moved even an old soldier like him, who had seen so much death and compromise.
The evening of the eighth day of the first lunar month.
Qin Tiexin sat before the anvil, all the sketches he had drawn over the past few days spread before him, the old saber beside them. His hair was disheveled, his eyes even more bloodshot, and his lips somewhat chapped from anxiety and thought.
After countless deductions and study sessions in the Void Realm, he had assembled what was relatively the most feasible plan: use refined iron subjected to repeated folding and forging as the "bone," carefully embed it into the core of the crack, then attempt to unite the old and new metals on a microscopic level through localized, extremely high-temperature fusion welding and extensive hammering around the edges, followed by complex tempering to adjust its overall toughness. In theory, this plan could restore over seventy percent of the blade's strength and, with luck, perhaps preserve most of its "Intent."
But problems remained: the fusion process had a low success rate and demanded extraordinarily exacting forging skills; even if successful, the repaired area would remain a weak point, potentially lasting only a year or two under intensive use; moreover, some of the saber's original "spirituality" would inevitably be lost.
Li Zhenwei quietly listened to this newest and most mature plan. After a moment, he said, "That's enough. We'll do it this way. One year or two, it's enough. Once I find my enemy and settle what weighs on my heart, this saber... will have fulfilled its mission. After that, I won't take it into battle anymore."
His tone was calm, even carrying a trace of release. This was already the best answer he had ever received.
But Qin Tiexin abruptly raised his head, staring hard at Li Zhenwei, then looking at the saber. He slowly shook his head, his voice dry but unusually firm. "No, Uncle Li. This... won't do."
"This isn't what it wants." He pointed at the old marks on the blade, dull yet still sharp. "It followed you from north to south and killed so many enemies, not to end up put away like a fragile ornament. It wants to stay with you until you find that man and fulfill that oath. There's no 'retreat' in its 'Intent.' If we repair it, we have to let it return to the battlefield, even... even if only once."
Li Zhenwei froze. Looking at the unquestionable stubbornness shining in the boy's eyes, he could find no words.
"But..." He finally gave a bitter smile. "Is there any better way?"
Was there any better way?
After Li Zhenwei left, Qin Tiexin remained silent. He lowered his head, buried both hands in his hair, and pulled hard. Days of exhaustion, countless failed deductions, his shared feeling of that weighty "Intent" Power, and his frustration at his own inadequacy nearly drowned him at that moment. Where was the perfect plan? Why was he always just a little short?
Under the onslaught of this utter bewilderment, defiance, and fierce desire to "forge a blade that could bear an oath and fulfill its mission"-
Hum!
The black ring on his right middle finger grew scorching hot again!
The anvil, old saber, sketches... everything before him rapidly blurred and spun. A vast, desolate power enveloped his consciousness, drawing it downward, yet seemingly lifting it to infinite heights.
When he "opened his eyes," he was no longer in the real-world shop.
He stood in a boundless gray void, flowing dark-gold patterns of light beneath his feet forming the foundation of that familiar, immeasurably grand "Virtual Realm · Forging Hall." Unlike before, however, a complete phantom image of the old saber now hovered in the center of the hall alongside the bronze forge. Every detail, including the microscopic structure inside the crack, lay before his eyes with incomparable clarity.
At the same time, a tremendous stream of information poured directly into his consciousness:
"Strong obsession and clearly defined requirements detected in inheritor. Deep deduction mode triggered." "Objective: repair an 'Intent-Containing Artifact,' preserve its core 'Intent' Power without dissipation, and restore its primary combat functions. Strength must meet the requirements of high-intensity combat." "Beginning deduction..."
In an instant, countless images flashed before Qin Tiexin's eyes. Old plans were simulated and carried out instantly, then collapsed for various reasons-failed fusion, stress fractures, dissipation of Intent Power, insufficient strength... New approaches were continually generated, combined, and tested.
He saw repairs using all manner of strange materials, many of which he did not recognize at all; quenching with different forms of power-earth fire, cold springs, lightning, even bloodline power; and attempts involving thousands upon thousands of hammering techniques, folding methods, and rune inscriptions...
Time lost its meaning here. A brief instant in reality seemed like hundreds or thousands of years within this mental space of deep deduction.
Failure. Failure. Failure.
Yet every failure eliminated one incorrect option, deepening his understanding of the saber's structure, the nature of "Intent" Power, and the difficulties of repairing it.
Finally, after an unknown number of simulated attempts, three relatively complete "plan cores," each radiating different fluctuations, hovered before his consciousness like three condensed stars.
[Plan one: Mend the Heavens] * Core: use the essence of "Thousand-Year Cold Iron" as the primary material, supplemented with "Earth-Core Flame Copper," to forge an extremely thin, tough "patch." Using "Heart Fire" as the catalyst, perform "spiritual welding" between the patch and the blade's crack, focusing on guiding the old saber's "Intent" Power through the patch to nourish it and make it an organic part of the blade. * Advantages: upon completion, strength can reach over ninety percent of the original saber's; optimal preservation of "Intent" Power, with virtually no loss. * Difficulties: materials are rare and hard to find; "Heart Fire" requires highly concentrated mental focus from the smith, with a low success rate of approximately thirty percent; extremely high forging precision required. * Characteristic: the repaired area will display flowing-water patterns of interwoven dark blue and crimson, markedly different from the original saber's character, yet harmonious. [Plan two: Reconnect the Veins] * Core: seek "Star Iron" fragments, which possess weak self-repair and power-conducting properties. Mix one's own Essence Blood with specific medicines as a medium and fill the depths of the crack. Through the ancient "Hundred Tribulations Forging" method, hammer at a special frequency to vibrate the blade, guiding the Star Iron fragments to "grow" along the metal lattice and reconnect the severed "force veins" and "Intent veins." * Advantages: restores strength after repair and grants a weak self-recovery ability; unobstructed flow of Intent Power. * Difficulties: Star Iron can only be encountered by chance, not sought at will; consumes large amounts of one's own Essence Blood and vitality, damaging one's foundation; the "Hundred Tribulations Forging" method is incomplete and extremely risky, with a success rate below twenty percent. * Characteristic: the repaired area will be difficult to distinguish with the naked eye, but tiny flowing points of starlight will be visible under moonlight or starlight. [Plan three: Nirvana] * Core: acknowledge the crack's existence rather than insisting on closing it completely. Collect battlefield "Iron-Blood Sha Qi," requiring rusted iron artifacts left on specific ancient battlefields, or the "unyielding battle will" of slain powerful ferocious beasts, requiring fresh spiritual materials. Refine it with the "Battle Sacrifice Method" and merge it into the blade. Sacrificially refine the crack itself into a "blood groove" or "battle pattern," making it a channel to guide and amplify "Intent" Power and Sha Qi. Reinforce the main blade with "Hundred-Fold Forging." * Advantages: no rare primary material required; upon success, the saber's power may surpass its former level, particularly enhancing attacks containing obsession and Sha Qi; Intent Power will not only be preserved, but may grow stronger through the incorporation of new substance. * Difficulties: refining "Iron-Blood Sha Qi" or "unyielding battle will" is complex and dangerous; the "Battle Sacrifice Method" requires resonance with the saber's old Intent and can very easily cause backlash; turning the crack into a power channel places a greater load on the entire blade, requiring an exceptionally sturdy foundation. Success rate approximately forty percent. * Characteristic: a dark-red or savage luster will remain permanently at the crack, and the saber's killing aura will grow stronger.
All three plans far surpassed Qin Tiexin's previous ideas, and lay far beyond his current abilities and resources. They were more like guidance, a display of possibilities, showing him the heights true "repair" could reach and the price it would demand.
There were no detailed blueprints, only core points and directions. Which should he choose? How could he obtain those unheard-of materials and carry out those mysterious methods? It was all up to him.
The deep deduction ended, and his consciousness returned.
Qin Tiexin abruptly opened his eyes to find himself still sitting on the little stool in the shop. The oil lamp was nearly spent, and darkness filled the window; it was late at night. That immeasurably long deduction had taken only a short while in reality. Yet he was drenched in cold sweat, his head felt ready to split, and waves of exhaustion rose from the depths of his soul, ten times more intense than after any previous Void Realm study session.
He panted violently, his gaze returning to the quiet old saber on the anvil.
The three plans drifted through his mind. Materials? Methods? Success rates? He had nothing at present.
But...
He remembered the weight beneath General Li's calm account, the saber's silent lament and defiance.
He remembered his master saying that sometimes, smithing depended not only on craftsmanship, but also on the breath of resolve within a man.
He struggled to his feet, bracing himself against the anvil to steady his somewhat weak body. Yet his gaze slowly focused again, burning with an almost obsessive flame.
If he lacked materials, he could find them. If he lacked methods, he could learn them. A low success rate? Then he would stake a thousand, ten thousand measures of care on that single success!
He ruled out [Plan two], which required "Star Iron" and consumed his own Essence Blood, and temporarily set aside [Plan three], which required finding Sha Qi from ancient battlefields. He fixed his attention on [Plan one: Mend the Heavens].
"Thousand-Year Cold Iron," "Earth-Core Flame Copper"... He had no leads whatsoever. What was "Heart Fire"? How did one guide Intent Power? He understood only fragments.
But at least this plan's central approach-reinforcing with special materials and guiding the old Intent to merge-had something in common with some of his initial ideas. Moreover, it sought to "mend" rather than "change," better suiting his insistence on "preserving the original essence."
"This is the one," Qin Tiexin said softly to the saber, unsure whether he was speaking to it or himself. "Together... let's try to 'Mend the Heavens.'"
When Li Zhenwei returned to the shop early the next morning, he found a boy exhausted to the extreme, yet with exceptionally clear, resolute eyes.
"Uncle Li," Qin Tiexin said, his voice slightly hoarse but filled with unquestionable determination. "I want to try a method. I'll need a few things that might... be hard to find."
"Tell me." Li Zhenwei did not hesitate.
"First, I need a piece of extremely fine iron, preferably something that has endured extreme cold or heat and possesses a little spirituality of its own, such as... the legendary 'Cold Iron' or 'Flame Iron.' Even a few fragments or associated ore would do." As Qin Tiexin voiced his first requirement, even he felt as though he were talking in his sleep.
Li Zhenwei did not even furrow his brow. "I've noted it. What else?"
"Second, during the repair, I'll need you beside me, holding this saber and thinking about your brother and your unavenged grudge. Your 'Intent' is the key to guiding the old Intent within the saber and helping the new material merge." This was what Qin Tiexin had grasped from the key points of [Plan one]. Perhaps the so-called "Heart Fire" meant using the obsession of someone utterly sincere as a catalyst.
Li Zhenwei gave him a long look, then nodded firmly. "All right."
"Finally..." Qin Tiexin paused. "I need three days to prepare. During those three days, I need to eat my fill and fully restore my spirits. Once the repair begins, it cannot stop until it's finished."
"How much silver do you need?"
Qin Tiexin shook his head. "We can discuss money later. Right now, I need strength."
Li Zhenwei asked nothing more and turned to leave. Half an hour later, Commandant Sun delivered a heavy food box containing a boxful of still-steaming white rice, a large bowl of glossy braised pork stewed until tender, and several fresh seasonal vegetables. A brief message arrived with it: "I'll find a way to get the materials. Focus on your preparations."
Qin Tiexin stood on no ceremony. He closed the door and swept through all the rice, meat, and vegetables. The ample food and fat he had not enjoyed in so long turned into a scorching current that surged through his limbs and bones, dispelling the exhaustion and weakness of recent days. He could feel strength returning, little by little, to his overtaxed body.
For the next two days, he performed no more heavy physical labor. Each day, he merely trained his body on schedule, with much gentler movements, then repeatedly "read" the fragmented hints concerning [Plan one] left behind by the Illustrated Catalog of Ten Thousand Artifacts after its deduction. He simulated every possible step in his mind, adjusting his breathing and mental state.
He cleaned the shop thoroughly inside and out, inspecting, wiping down, and putting away every tool. He placed the finest wrought-iron billets he had rough-forged within reach as reserves-although far inferior to "Cold Iron and Flame Copper," they would be his last hope if the materials could not be found. He even spent his last bit of money on a small jar of the strongest shaodaozi liquor-not for drinking, but for wiping and cooling during certain steps, or stimulating Blood Qi.
The evening of the tenth day of the first lunar month.
Li Zhenwei returned with a small parcel tightly wrapped in oilcloth. Inside were two pieces of ore: one deep blue, bone-chilling to the touch and the size of a fingernail; the other dark red, surprisingly warm to the touch and only the size of a finger joint. Beside them lay a small pinch of unidentified silver metal powder.
"They were found in the Northern Army's stores. Supposedly obtained by chance years ago from glaciers in the far north and volcanic regions. No one knew what they were for. The blue one is an 'Ice Soul Stone' fragment; the red one is called 'Fire Pattern Stone.' This powder is 'Cloud Silver,' supposedly possessing some unusual effects. It's all yours." Li Zhenwei kept it brief. "Is it enough?"
Qin Tiexin picked up the two tiny pieces of ore, feeling their strange temperatures against his palm, then looked at the pinch of Cloud Silver Powder, his heart pounding. Though far removed from "Thousand-Year Cold Iron" and "Earth-Core Flame Copper," these were spiritual materials containing the power of nature's extreme temperatures, beyond anything he had imagined! As for Cloud Silver... he vaguely remembered the Void Realm's knowledge mentioning its harmonizing and conducting properties.
"It's enough! There's hope!" Suppressing his excitement, he nodded firmly.
"When do we begin?"
Qin Tiexin looked at the sky outside, now completely dark, then took stock of his body, brought to peak condition, and his exceptionally clear, calm mind.
"Right now."
He stoked the forge to its hottest. Firelight lit the little shop as brightly as day and bathed the boy's steady, resolute face in red.
He gently laid the old saber in the very center of the anvil.
Through a thousand hammerings and a hundred refinings, he sought to keep one Intent alive.
The true battle was about to begin.