Silence fell over the dinner table for a moment.
Lang Yue looked up, and Tang Ziran froze.
Na'er paused with her spoon in hand, looking from Tang Wulin to Tang Ziran.
"Learn forging?" Tang Ziran frowned. "Why do you suddenly want to learn that?"
"No particular reason. I just want to."
"If I learn forging, I can earn money."
"Even if I might not make much, I can definitely earn at least a little."
He silently added to himself,
I've even mastered the Disorder Splitting Wind Hammer. Tang Hao's forging methods were rough, but at the very least, purifying metal and forging ordinary metal parts would be more than easy enough.
Tang Ziran fell silent.
He stared at the last half-mouthful of congee in his bowl, saying nothing for a long while.
Tang Wulin had spoken casually, but Tang Ziran had struggled through society for so many years. How could he not understand what lay behind those words?
The child had seen their family's circumstances getting worse.
The appetites of two children, his meager wages, and their increasingly strained finances. Tang Wulin wanted to take the initiative and ease the burden on the family.
Tang Ziran suddenly felt a lump in his throat.
He lowered his head, the veins on the backs of his hands standing out.
Tang Ziran, oh, Tang Ziran, how can you be so useless?
You even have to let such a young child earn money.
Why didn't you work harder back when you were studying and earn a couple more levels of mecha repair certification? Then your wages wouldn't be this low.
He took a deep breath and suppressed the ache in his heart. Raising his head, he forced a smile onto his face.
"All right, Dad agrees."
Tang Wulin's eyes lit up.
"Do you still remember Uncle Mang Tian?"
Tang Wulin nodded. "I do."
Mang Tian was one of Tang Ziran's few friends.
"Dad will get in touch with Uncle Mang."
"You can try becoming his apprentice. You're a Soul Master, so learning should be much easier for you than for other people."
Tang Wulin nodded vigorously. "Okay, Dad!"
Tang Ziran dialed Mang Tian's number. It rang several times before he picked up.
He went outside, and no one knew what he said.
When he came back in, he was smiling.
"Your Uncle Mang Tian agreed. Your mother will take you to his shop after school. Forging is hard work, so be prepared."
Tang Wulin grinned. "It's fine. I'm not afraid."
He added in his heart, Tang Hao's temper is worse than anyone's, and I endured him for a whole year. How fierce could Uncle Mang Tian possibly be?
Beside him, Na'er put down her spoon and gave Tang Wulin's sleeve a gentle tug.
"Are you going to be a blacksmith, big brother?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Is being a blacksmith tiring?"
"No." Tang Wulin reached out and ruffled her silver hair. "I'm strong. Hammering iron is as easy as playing for me."
Na'er tilted her head and thought for a moment, then said seriously,
"Then when you come home, can you bring me a shiny piece of iron?"
Tang Wulin paused, then smiled.
"Sure, I'll bring you the prettiest piece."
Lang Yue watched from the side, her eyes reddening.
She turned away and pretended to clear the dishes, but wiped her hands on her apron several times.
Tang Ziran sat back down at the table, picked up the bowl of congee that had gone completely cold, and finished it one mouthful at a time.
Tomorrow, his son would become an apprentice.
A seven-year-old apprentice.
As he chewed the cold congee, a thought suddenly occurred to him:
He had to ask the station chief whether he could be assigned a few more night-shift repair jobs.
They were more tiring, but the extra pay was good.
He couldn't let his son shoulder the whole burden of the family alone.
The next afternoon, as soon as classes ended at Red Mountain Academy, Tang Wulin jogged all the way home.
Lang Yue was already waiting at the door.
She had changed into clean clothes for going out and combed her hair again, but no matter how one looked at her, her expression was a little nervous.
"Let's go." Lang Yue took Tang Wulin's hand.
The two crossed more than half of Aolai City before finally arriving at Mang Tian's workshop.
The smell of metal filled the air. Tang Wulin drew in a deep breath and found it surprisingly familiar.
Lang Yue paused at the door and looked down at Tang Wulin.
"Wulin, if it doesn't work out, we'll just go home."
"Mom, it's fine."
Tang Wulin let go of her hand and walked inside.
A man stood with his back to them beside the furnace, holding a pair of long tongs and turning a piece of red-hot metal over and over as he examined it.
"Uncle Mang Tian," Tang Wulin called.
The man turned around.
Tang Wulin looked up at him, and a thought immediately popped into his head:
Do all blacksmiths look alike?
A tall, imposing build, a full beard, and bronze-colored skin.
Mang Tian glanced at Lang Yue and said in a booming voice, "You can go home first. Come back and pick him up in two hours."
Lang Yue opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, she said nothing.
She crouched down to straighten Tang Wulin's collar, then stroked his head, her eyes reddening.
"Mom will be back in two hours."
"Okay."
Only Tang Wulin and Mang Tian remained in the shop.
Mang Tian tossed the red-hot piece of metal back into the furnace and looked down at Tang Wulin.
"Do you know what forging is?"
Tang Wulin nodded and answered without hesitation:
"Forging is a method of processing metal through repeated hammering and heating to expel impurities and change its internal structure, making it denser, stronger, and better performing."
"Good forging can purify crude iron into refined iron, forge refined iron into alloys, shape alloys into whatever form is needed, and turn ordinary iron into divine weapons!"
"The core of forging is control: control of temperature, force, and rhythm."
"Only when all three become one can the metal's full potential be forced out."
Tang Hao had taught him all of this.
Mang Tian was stunned.
He had only asked casually and hadn't expected the seven-year-old to launch straight into such a long answer.
What was more, the answer sounded convincing and well organized, and even his choice of words was quite professional.
Turning ordinary iron into divine weapons-he certainly had some ideas.
He stared at Tang Wulin for several seconds, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"You certainly know quite a bit."
Mang Tian folded his arms and walked halfway around Tang Wulin, as though sizing up a piece of metal waiting to be worked.
"But forging isn't just talk."
He stopped, his tone growing more serious. "Even if your father says your Soul Power has already reached level fifteen and you have excellent talent as a Soul Master, forging isn't that easy."
"They're two completely different things."
"You're a seven-year-old kid. No matter how high your Soul Power Level is, if you've never held a hammer, you've never held a hammer."
"In forging, what counts is skill with your hands, built up one hammer blow at a time."
Tang Wulin looked at that hand and suddenly smiled.
Mang Tian frowned. "What are you smiling at?"
"Uncle Mang Tian." Tang Wulin looked at him seriously. "I also think forging is built up one hammer blow at a time."
After all, that was exactly how he had been trained in his dreams, one hammer blow at a time.
"My Second Martial Soul is a hammer, so I especially agree with that."
Tang Wulin opened his right hand, and the image of the Clear Sky Hammer appeared on his palm, its dark-gold lines flashing briefly.
A small, pitch-black hammer extended from his palm. Its head was heavy, its striking face flat, and it carried a steady, imposing presence.
"Uncle Mang Tian, you want to purify that piece of Heavy Silver, right?"
"Let me try."
He walked to the furnace with the Clear Sky Hammer in his right hand, used the long tongs in his left to pick up the heated Heavy Silver from inside, and placed it on the anvil.
Mang Tian opened his mouth to stop him, but swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue.
On second thought, that was fine too. He would let him try.
He hoped the kid's forging skills were as wild as his words.
In any case, Heavy Silver was an extremely stable material. Even if it was hammered, it wouldn't be damaged much. At worst, it could go back into the furnace, and besides, this was only the most basic raw material.
Once the kid had spent ages fussing over it without getting anywhere, he would have a good reason to send him away.
That way, he would have given Tang Ziran face, and the child would have backed down of his own accord in the face of difficulty.
At the end of the day, forging depended on talent.
He hadn't seen much forging talent in Tang Ziran.
A man who had repaired mechas for twenty years and was still only a junior repairman-
How much better could his son be?