"The identity jade badge is invalid, and Star Selection's qualifications are permanently cancelled. Take it out."
Just such a calm sentence sent chills down the spine more than any thunderous rage. Star Selection was permanently disqualified, and the monk's future was deemed useless. The monk was carried out by two deacon disciples, and his heels dragged two weak scratches on the sapphire ground.
The hall became quiet again. The remaining candidates lowered their heads, no one dared to whisper to each other, and there were even fewer eye exchanges.
Qin Tiexin withdrew his gaze and sat up straight cross-legged. He didn't want to cheat, and he didn't need to cheat.
The ancient mirror is suspended in the center of the hall, and the silver light on the mirror slowly rotates.
Qin Tiexin closed his eyes and Divine Sense looked towards the ancient mirror.
The moment Divine Sense touched the mirror, an irresistible suction force surged out from the mirror, like an invisible hand, grabbing his consciousness. His body sat motionless on the sapphire ground, but his consciousness had been torn away from his body by this suction force, passing through layers of chaotic white light.
When the white light dissipated, he heard the soft sound of wind and snow. The wind carried the coke smell of cinders, mixed with the smoke of fireworks coming out of the chimneys of houses in the alley. The cold wind blew on his face, dry and hard, as if someone was gently polishing his cheekbones with sandpaper.
Here, it is Ink City.
Qin Tiexin stood at the entrance of Soot Alley, with fine snowflakes floating in the sky. There was a cinder-paved alley under his feet, which creaked when he stepped on it. At the end of the alley, Qin Household Blacksmith Shop's fire was blazing, and the shop door was half open, filled with prepared hoes, sickles, and kitchen knives. Under the chopping board against the wall was a small hammer he used to practice his skills as a child.
He was sixteen years old, his right hand was intact, the palm was covered with hard calluses, and his five fingers were thick and strong, each of which could hold the handle of the hammer. He looked down at his right hand, moved his knuckles, and the joints made a cracking sound. They were alive and complete.
Zhao Ming is standing in front of him.
The young master of Heavenly Craft Workshop was well dressed, wearing a fox fur vest over his satin robe, and holding a money bag embroidered with gold thread in his hand. Snowflakes fell on the money bag, making his fingers slightly red from the cold, but he still smiled politely and the corners of his mouth were raised just right.
"Brother Qin, here are six hundred taels. Let me give you the shop. You can go wherever you want with the money." He handed the money bag forward, "Six hundred taels is enough for you to buy a bigger shop at Qingzhou City."
Qin Tiexin stretched out his hand and took the money bag.
"Deal."
When he said these two words, his tone was very calm. There was no hesitation, no struggle, everything was natural. Grandpa had just passed away, so he had to find a geomantic treasure land, open a shop, not lose his craftsmanship, and live a good life.
He put the money bag in his arms, turned around and packed a few changes of clothes, and took out the two things from under the bed, weighed them, and stuffed them into the bag. The remaining things were found in an ox cart and taken away together. Even the plaque at the door was removed, leaving only an empty house.
The shop door was closed, and the Soot Alley wind and snow, wrapped in a layer of soot, fell on his back, as if sending him off, but also pushing him.
The next day, the Heavenly Craft Workshop people bulldozed his shop and bought several surrounding shops. The size of the entire Heavenly Craft Workshop more than doubled. Of course, this has nothing to do with Qin Tiexin.
He found a piece of land with good Feng Shui in Qingzhou City in the south and hired the best craftsmen to rebuild his grandfather's tomb. The stele was newly built and the inscription was written by the most expensive scholar in the city. The stone was local blue and white stone from Qingzhou, which was much more beautiful than the dusty granite from Ink City.
On the day of the burial, the neighbors stood at the alley and watched. Some wiped away tears, while others sighed. They all said that old man Qin had a filial grandson.
He thought about the ring and the piece of iron and put them in the coffin.
"Grandpa, I have no use for these things. If you still need them over there, just keep them."
The coffin was buried in the earth, covered with loess, and the monument was erected. He stood in front of his grandfather's grave, and snow fell on the new monument, a thin layer. People around him praised him, saying that this child was sensible and a promising person.
Qin Tiexin stood in front of that grave for a long time. The wind blew the snow off his shoulders and accumulated a new layer.
After returning, he rented a shop on Qingzhou City South Street. It was not big, but it was in a good location. Opposite was the back door of the Qingzhou government office. He did not hang a plaque or hire a man. As soon as the shop door opened, he put the good hammer next to the stove, and the clanging sound of the hammer could be heard from morning till night.
He doesn't make hoes, sickles, or horseshoes. Hundreds of these things can be produced on Heavenly Craft Workshop's assembly line a day, and they are so cheap that iron shops can't get them. He only makes customized goods, and dignitaries come to customize weapons. What kind of knife they want, what kind of patterns they draw, and what kind of fire they need to be quenched, he hammers them out with one hammer.
Qingzhou The local blacksmith's skills are rough, and quenching is only done by sight. He is different. The skills taught by his grandfather are calculated based on time. The temperature of each quenching is memorized in the mind, and there is never a mistake.
Three years later, the blacksmith shop without a plaque on Qingzhou City South Street has become a private and word-of-mouth place for prominent figures in the Qingzhou government.
At the end of the autumn of the same year, he married the third daughter of Qingzhou, the local elder Lineage Fang Household.
Fang-shi is not very beautiful, with a round face, small eyes, and a low bridge of nose, but when she smiles, she has two shallow dimples at the corners of her mouth. She is thin and does not know martial arts, but she is literate and can do abacus faster than Qingzhou's accountant at the government office.
Qin Tiexin was the blacksmith, she took care of the accounts, and kept a clear account of the blacksmith's incoming and outgoing transactions. The shop gradually expanded from only accepting customized weapons, and anyone who wanted to make iron would come to Qin Tiexin.
Five years later, Qin Tiexin was personally named by the minister of the Ministry of Industry who was passing by, and was transferred from Qingzhou to the Craftsmanship Department of the Daxuan Dynasty's capital, and became the youngest royal craftsman of the Daxuan Dynasty. He had a rank, a salary, and an exclusive craftsman's workshop. He walked from a small blacksmith shop in Soot Alley in Mocheng to the official office of the Craftsmanship Department of the Daxuan Dynasty for eight full years.
He moved his family to the capital and bought a three-story courtyard in the north of the city. Fang-shi gave birth to him three sons, the eldest named Qin An and the second named Qin Ding, the third child is called Qin Ning. The three children all learn blacksmithing from him. The eldest is good at tempering, the second is good at forging, and the third is good at drawing. When they grow up, they all enter Ministry of Works. Artisan Manufacturing Bureau, the son inherited his father's legacy.
He has established a firm foothold in the capital. Although Qin Household is not from a prominent family, he is still a well-known Lineage in the craftsmanship industry in the capital. During the holidays, Ministry of Works's colleagues will come to visit him, and when the neighbors see him, they will call him Master Qin, Old Man Qin.
When he was seventy-five years old, Qin Tiexin took his wife and children back to Ink City.