"Inspection" and Performance

The midday sun was scorching, and three people stood on the open ground at the entrance of the Old West Gully.

Zhao Shi stood with his hands behind his back, exuding an air of official authority. Behind him followed Wang Wu and another unfamiliar apprentice, both dressed in the gray short jackets of the Soul Master Hall.

Lu Qinghe bowed, a smile plastered on his face. "Deacon Zhao, you've gone to so much trouble to make this trip yourself..."

"It's my duty." Zhao Shi interrupted him, his gaze sweeping over the dark cave entrance and the few dilapidated stone houses beside it. "This is it?"

"Yes, this is it."

Zhao Shi lifted his foot and walked inside.

An oil lamp was lit in the main cavern, casting a dim yellow light. The air smelled of dust, mixed with the metallic and burnt odors. The ground had been cleaned, and broken furniture, firewood, and scraps of metal were piled up in the corners.

Several people were scattered throughout the cavern.

A woman, about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, sat beneath the western stone wall. She wore a faded blue robe, her hair tied up with a wooden hairpin, and crystal glasses perched on her nose. She was looking down at an old booklet on her lap. Noticing the gaze, she looked up and nodded slightly. Her eyes were calm, with a touch of scholarly coolness.

A man squatted in the center of the cavern, his hair gray and disheveled, his beard stubble, and his eyes sunken. He wore an old leather apron stained with oil, fiddling with a dark, half-human-sized object on the ground—a haphazardly pieced-together assembly of sheet metal, stone slabs, and copper wire, one end connected to a pipe leading to the crevice in the rock, the other open, from which a faint, dark red light flickered. His fingers were rough, his movements focused, and he muttered incantations.

On the other side of the fire pit, two teenagers sat cross-legged facing each other. One was short and stocky, the other tall and thin and shy. Both had their eyes closed, their hands raised in a half-raised position, with faint strands of Soul Power moving and tracing circles at their fingertips. Sweat streamed down their cheeks.

Zhao Shi glanced at it twice, then looked away.

Finally, he looked at Lu Yuan, who was standing by the fire pit.

The boy wore coarse cloth clothes, faded from washing. His face was expressionless, and his eyes were calm.

"Deacon Zhao." Lu Yuan stepped forward and bowed.

"You're Lu Yuan?" Zhao Shi asked in an official tone. "I heard from your father that you're doing research here? What kind of research?"

"Replying to the steward, it's not really research," Lu Yuan said calmly. "They are two friends my father made in his early years, Aunt Shen and Uncle Mo. Their sect suffered a calamity and they ended up here with nowhere to stay. My father, being kind-hearted, asked them to stay temporarily."

He spoke slowly.

"Aunt Shen used to organize documents at the academy. She could read and knew a little about herbs. Uncle Mo could repair parts of Soul Tool and made a living by going from street to street. They were grateful for taking us in, and seeing that we were weak, they taught us some ways to strengthen our bodies. They also tried to improve farm tools and forge ironware with their skills to exchange for some food."

Zhao Shi gently twirled his fingers behind his back.

There's nothing wrong with what he said. A wandering Soul Master seeking refuge with an old friend, teaching children to strengthen their bodies, and learning a skill to earn a living—it's all perfectly reasonable, even somewhat tragic.

"Improve farm tools?" He looked at the black iron lump that Mo Chen was fiddling with. "With that thing?"

Mo Chen looked up, grinned, revealing teeth stained yellow from smoking. "Master, don't judge a book by its cover." He patted the metal lump, making a clanging sound, "It's pieced together from scraps, that's true. But look—"

He reached out and pressed on a rough Soul Power guiding stone slab on the side, injecting Soul Power into it.

Buzz!

A low, rumbling noise suddenly erupted, and a dark red glow flashed brightly inside the iron lump! A scorching wave of air, mixed with sparks, shot out from the opening. Immediately afterwards, an unstable orange-red flame surged out, hissing and flaming, the heat wave hitting us and the smell of burning flesh filling the air.

The noise was loud, and the flames were violent.

Mo Chen seemed quite satisfied. He picked up a piece of black iron from beside his feet, held it with tongs, and carefully placed it into the flames.

The iron billet quickly turned bright red, with an orange-yellow sheen. The heat radiated outwards, and Zhao Shi felt his cheeks burning.

"See that?" Mo Chen pushed aside the roaring flames. "Heating the iron blanks is fine! It's just the temperature control... Heh heh, the materials are too cheap, the Soul Stone are inferior, the heat is inconsistent, I can't make anything delicate. But, getting some hoe and sickle blanks, heating them red-hot and hammering them into shape, will be barely enough!"

He manipulated the unstable flames, slowly rotating the red-hot iron billet. The scene was rough and dangerous, like a down-on-his-luck craftsman barely managing to control a fiery beast.

Zhao Shi looked at the flickering, ear-piercing flames, and at Mo Chen's face, reddened by the firelight and etched with the marks of time and weariness. His brows furrowed slightly, then relaxed.

So that's what this "craft" is all about.

The principle of Soul Tool? Perhaps it has some relevance. But this dilapidated appearance, terrible temperature control, enormous noise, and waste of Soul Power clearly indicate that it's a poorly made, inefficient heating tool cobbled together by an amateur craftsman using junk. Let alone Soul Tool, even when making ordinary ironware, the finished product wouldn't be much better.

Waste utilization. A wasteful and pointless endeavor.

Another layer of doubt in his mind was shed.

"That's quite a commotion," Zhao Shi commented. "Doing it right here? Aren't you afraid of setting the mine on fire?"

Shen Moxin closed the booklet and stood up. She adjusted her glasses, her voice clear and calm. "Don't worry, Steward. The rock walls here are thick, and we chose a spacious area away from the supporting pillars. Mo Chen's skills are rough, but he's confident in the safety margins. We've also prepared water and will check it daily."

She spoke in a measured tone, revealing the caution and a hint of melancholy characteristic of a minor figure in the academy.

Zhao Shi grunted in response and paced back and forth. He walked slowly, his gaze sweeping over every corner, every pile of clutter, and even squatting down to look at the wild vegetables and firewood piled up in the corner. Wang Wu and his apprentice followed behind, watching.

We went inside the stone house. It was even more rudimentary, with nothing but dry grass, broken earthenware pots, and patched clothes. The air smelled of earth and mildew.

There were no valuable materials, no forbidden pills, no cultivation manuals, and no abnormal fluctuations in Soul Power —except for the crude and inefficient Soul Power disturbances emanating from the noisy furnace itself.

After going around the circle once, Zhao Shi had a better understanding of the situation.

A group of unlucky guys. An old farmer Soul Master has been stuck at a bottleneck for many years and suddenly breaks through, a poor female scholar who is ostracized by the academy, a mediocre craftsman who can't make a living, two teenagers with poor talent who are practicing basic skills, plus a half-grown kid with a congenitally Trash Martial Soul and a little bit of cleverness.

They gathered in this desolate, abandoned mine, not out of any ulterior motive, but because they had nowhere else to go, huddled together for warmth, and devised "crafts" that no one valued, struggling to survive.

Is it troublesome? A little. After all, several Soul Master have gathered here, even if they are all at the lower levels. But judging from the current situation, the possibility of them causing trouble is extremely low. If they really had malicious intentions, they wouldn't have ended up like this.

Zhao Shi walked back to the center of the cave. Lu Qinghe stared at him expectantly.

"Old Lu," Zhao Shi's tone softened, "I have a general understanding of the situation. You guys... haven't had it easy."

Lu Qinghe nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, thank you for your understanding, Deacon."

"The place is a bit run-down, but it's been tidied up fairly well. Be careful with fire, especially that stove." Zhao Shi pointed to Mo Chen's side; the flames had shrunk, but the noise was still there. "When Soul Master gather, according to the rules, we have to report to the Soul Master Hall in town and pay a safety management fee. You understand, right?"

"Understood, understood!" Lu Qinghe pulled out a small cloth bag and handed it over with both hands. "It's already prepared. Three months' worth of provisions for six people. Please check it."

The cloth bag wasn't large. Zhao Shi took it, and with a quick flick of his fingertips, he knew it contained sixty Copper Soul Coin. The number was correct, even slightly more.

The seriousness on his face softened slightly, revealing a hint of leniency as he "understood the situation below."

"Hmm." He handed the cloth bag to Wang Wu. "Register this. Old Lu, your situation is special, it's understandable. From now on, hand it over to the temple at the beginning of each quarter. Behave yourself and behave properly. When teaching the children, teach them things that strengthen their bodies, don't get involved in anything crooked. The mine has been around for a long time, so be careful. If you have any trouble, you can come to the temple and let us know."

At this point, it's already tacit approval, carrying a tiny bit of "consideration."

Lu Yuan bowed. "Thank you, Steward."

Zhao Shi waved his hand, preparing to leave. His gaze swept one last time over the black iron furnace and Mo Chen, who was squatting beside it, numbly wiping his hands. A barely perceptible twitch appeared at the corner of his mouth, as if he were talking to himself, yet also as if speaking to everyone:

"Doing all this useless stuff... is a waste of time and effort, and doesn't earn you much money. You'd be better off taking on some simple quests to hunt Ten-Year Soul Beast; at least that's more practical."

After saying that, he turned and left with his apprentice. The sound of their footsteps faded into the sunlight at the cave entrance.

The cavern fell silent.

The only sounds were the crackling of the oil lamp and the sizzling of the stove cooling down.

Mo Chen squatted down, looking down at his calloused and greasy hands. A few seconds later, he suddenly stood up and kicked the stove support!

"Clang!"

The furnace shook violently, and a few sparks flew from the embers. A flash of dark red light illuminated the fleeting anger and frustration in his eyes. He didn't utter a curse, but his chest heaved twice, and he exhaled a heavy breath of rusty air. He then squatted down again, wiping his hands with his back to the others.

Shen Moxin slowly sat back down, took off her glasses, and gently wiped the lenses with her sleeve. The movements were slow, and her shoulders slumped slightly. She inhaled softly and exhaled slowly, as if she had unloaded an invisible burden.

Su Yan and Li Wangye stood there, looking at the cave entrance, their faces still showing the bewilderment that followed their initial tension. Lu Qinghe walked to the fire pit and silently added firewood.

Lu Yuan didn't move.

He remained standing in the same spot, his gaze fixed on the entrance to the passage where Zhao Shi had disappeared. There, only a dazzling white halo illuminated by the daylight remained.

"The first stage," Lu Yuan said, his voice clear in the empty rock cavity, "Is considered complete."

He paused, then looked away.

"But from now on, we're right under his nose." He lowered his voice, emphasizing each word, "Everything needs to be faster."