Three days later, I found myself standing in front of a blacksmith’s shop in Yichang, Hubei. The sign above the door bore the unusual name “Iron Heart.”
“Is the owner of this place a demon?” I wondered aloud.
“He used to be,” replied Cheonma, the celestial demon, with a hint of nostalgia. “But there are no demons left now.”
Cheonma was candid about his past, confident that I wouldn’t kill him just because he was once a demon.
“No demons left? They’ve already revived a significant part of the demonic cult.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s just a poor imitation.”
“An imitation? It seemed pretty convincing to me. Are you sure you haven’t let too much slip in your reincarnated state?”
“You little…!”
Cheonma bristled at my words, but I quickly changed the subject to avoid further conflict.
“What’s the name of the owner here?”
“Du Bai. I used to call him Du the Blacksmith. His skills are unmatched.”
“Let’s see those skills for ourselves.”
I stepped into the blacksmith’s shop, expecting to meet an old man, given Cheonma’s connection. Instead, a middle-aged man greeted me.
“Welcome.”
“Is Du the Blacksmith here?”
The man flinched at the mention of the name.
“That was my late father.”
Realizing my mistake, I bowed my head in respect.
“I didn’t know. My condolences.”
“Thank you. But how does a young man like you know my father? And why call him Du the Blacksmith…?”
It must have been a name Cheonma used.
Cheonma grumbled in my mind, “That old fool. Why did he have to leave so soon?”
“On second thought, maybe it wasn’t so soon after all,” I mused.
“Everything is fleeting and pointless. Just live and enjoy life.”
Both Cheonma and I had momentarily forgotten how much time had passed. Our conversation felt like old times.
“Have you heard of Baek Cheon-gwang?” I asked.
Du Zheng, the man before me, was visibly startled but tried to hide it.
“Never heard of him.”
“It’s alright. I was close to Baek Cheon-gwang.”
He looked at me, puzzled, so I calmly explained.
“You might worry that someone from the martial alliance or another sect is trying to deceive you by mentioning the name of a long-dead demonic cult leader. But think about it—what would be the point?”
My reasoning seemed to reach him.
“What was your relationship with the cult leader?”
“We were inseparable.”
He looked at me, still confused, but then nodded, perhaps thinking I was a descendant of Baek Cheon-gwang. The fact that I called his father Du the Blacksmith had a significant impact. Only Cheonma had used that name.
The man introduced himself as Du Zheng. Though the demonic cult had vanished and his father had passed, severing ties with it, he still respected his father, who had once been a demon. My connection to the cult leader meant a lot to him.
“Please, come in.”
He led me to the backyard, where several young men were working hard. Du Zheng had his own workshop there.
Inside, I set down the heavy load I had been carrying. The thud startled Du Zheng, who then realized the large bundle was made of heavy metal. Wrapped in cloth, he couldn’t see what it was.
“You carried this all the way here?”
“Yes. I intend to use it as material.”
“May I take a look?”
“Of course.”
Curious about the metal I had brought, Du Zheng unwrapped the cloth. His eyes widened in disbelief.
“Is this…?”
“It’s ten-thousand-year cold iron.”
“My goodness!”
He examined the metal repeatedly, confirming it was indeed ten-thousand-year cold iron.
“I’ve never seen so much of it.”
His voice trembled, akin to a martial artist discovering a rare elixir or the ultimate martial arts manual.
“Did your father teach you how to work with ten-thousand-year cold iron?”
He nodded.
“He did, but I only assisted him. I’ve never worked with it alone.”
That made sense. Handling ten-thousand-year cold iron was a rare opportunity for any blacksmith.
“Damn it! We need Du the Blacksmith,” Cheonma lamented.
“Not necessarily,” I countered.
“What do you mean?”
“While he may not be as skilled as his father, this man might create what I need even better.”
“Why?”
“He’s younger. And skill doesn’t always guarantee the best results.”
“That’s nonsense! Let’s just leave.”
Cheonma seemed worried that his introduction might lead to failure. But I had faith in Du Zheng’s potential.
“We’re here now. Let’s trust him.”
“Fine. But don’t blame me if it goes wrong.”
“Of course, it’ll be your fault if it does. What did he do wrong?”
“What? You little…!”
Du Zheng cautiously asked, “What do you want to make with this?”
Naturally, it was a weapon. I wasn’t planning to make a chair out of the world’s strongest metal. But I already had the Asura King Sword, which was spiritually connected to me. It had even wept when it first saw me.
So, I had something else in mind.
I showed him a few sheets of paper. They were designs I had sketched during my journey here, with rough drawings and notes.
Du Zheng studied them carefully, then looked at me in surprise.
“I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Can you make it?”
He glanced back at the designs.
“As I said, this is my first time working with ten-thousand-year cold iron. Do you trust me?”
“I do.”
“Alright. I’ll give it a try.”
There was a glint of determination in his eyes. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a blacksmith.
“How long will it take?”
“At least three months.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to help. It might speed things up.”
He hesitated briefly, then nodded.
“That would be appreciated.”
Normally, this wouldn’t be allowed. He likely had his own secret techniques for working with ten-thousand-year cold iron. But he believed in my deep connection to the cult leader and saw something special in me. After all, I had brought ten-thousand-year cold iron and requested something unprecedented.
From that day, we began our work.
It was an intense, relentless endeavor.
Back in Shandong, the first thing Song Hwarin did was confront her father.
“I want to elevate the Song family to the top sect in Shandong. I want to lead the way.”
She was beginning to act on Byeok Lidan’s request to dominate the region. She understood how challenging it was to become a regional power and knew it started with taking control of her own family.
Song Wugyeong was taken aback by his daughter’s words. He had previously involved her in family affairs, but back then, she had merely assisted him. Now, she was taking the initiative.
“I want to learn the ways of the martial world. Please teach me, Father.”
“Haha, I’ll teach you everything I know.”
Song Wugyeong entrusted her with various family matters. He sensed a genuine change in her, not just a fleeting impulse.
He knew the catalyst for this change was Byeok Lidan.
From that day on, Song Hwarin took charge of both family and external affairs.
Initially, people were skeptical of her sudden involvement. They wondered why she was acting this way.
But she persevered, dedicating herself to her tasks. She reduced her sleep to train in martial arts and manage the family’s affairs.
Over time, perceptions of her began to shift.
Her growing competence was due not only to her mental transformation but also to her improved martial skills.
She practiced the advanced sword techniques taught by Byeok Lidan daily. Among her peers, she was exceptional, and even experienced martial artists in Shandong found her a formidable opponent.
Her skills gave her confidence in all her dealings. Her beauty also proved advantageous in her work.
The Byeok family sword sect naturally became her closest ally, and the Yangso Gang, the top faction in Shandong, officially allied with the Song family.
Yangso’s leader, Jeong Yeo, had pledged loyalty to Byeok Lidan, so they now operated as one.
The Byeok family sword sect, the Song family, and the Yangso Gang began to absorb other factions, adapting their strategies to each group’s circumstances.
Thus, Song Hwarin started expanding her influence in Shandong.
Song Wugyeong expressed his gratitude to Byeok Dojun, Byeok Lidan’s father, for his daughter’s transformation.
“Thanks to our son-in-law, my daughter has changed.”
He now openly referred to Byeok Lidan as his son-in-law.
“How can it be just because of Dan? Hwarin has matured.”
“No, no. Our son-in-law had a significant impact.”
In truth, Byeok Dojun agreed. His son was transforming everyone around him. Even the Byeok family sword sect had changed significantly since his son had come to his senses. The small sword unit continued to grow, and the existing units had become much stronger.
In terms of pure martial strength, they were now among the top five in Shandong.
“It seems our children are ready to leave the nest. It’s a bit bittersweet,” Byeok Dojun mused.
“My friend, it’s actually a good thing.”
“Still, it feels strange, like Hwarin suddenly became an adult overnight.”
“True. I felt the same way.”
There’s a saying that while parents only cry for a day when their children leave, their sorrow lingers much longer. These two knew better than anyone that one day, they would have to let their children go.
They exchanged smiles, remembering how they had been friends since childhood, and now here they were, parents worrying about their own children.
Beok Do-jun chuckled warmly. “Didn’t we say we’d travel together once the kids were grown? Looks like that time is finally coming.”
Using the Celestial Mind Technique, I met the Heavenly Demon again. The meeting point was the backyard of the Iron Workshop, visible from the window of the room Du-jeong had arranged for me.
The yard was cluttered with various iron tools of all shapes and sizes. Thankfully, the furnace wasn’t roaring, so we didn’t have to shout over the flames.
Today’s meeting was at the insistence of the Heavenly Demon, who had pestered me several times to make it happen.
“I’m busy, you know.”
“Surely you can spare a moment to talk?”
I wasn’t just saying it—I really was busy. Du-jeong and I were practically living in the workshop, only taking breaks to eat and sleep. I was his right-hand man, and our work was progressing rapidly.
“So, why did you want to meet?”
The Heavenly Demon hesitated, then spoke cautiously. “Can you teach me the incantation of the Celestial Crane Technique?”
“No.”
I refused outright.
“You wretch! At least hear me out before you say no.”
“Doesn’t matter. The answer’s still no.”
“Heartless! Cruel! Rude!”
After his outburst, he tried a different approach.
“It’s a martial art my grandfather created. You have an obligation to teach me.”
“I suppose you could see it that way.”
“Oh! So you’ll teach me?”
“No.”
“Damn it! You’re as stubborn as an old-school master with no sense of morality!”
When that didn’t work, he tried to coax me with a softer tone.
“Come on, Hajin.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“I said no.”
“I told you your martial art wasn’t perfect, didn’t I? You owe me for that.”
“Well, you have a point. If, as you say, the Soul-Reaping Demon Sword isn’t perfect, then the Celestial Crane Technique is now my ultimate skill. I can’t just teach it to anyone.”
The Heavenly Demon fell silent, realizing his mistake.
He quickly changed tactics. “The Soul-Reaping Demon Sword was perfect! You just tricked me into not using it.”
“Then I guess I succeeded. I won’t use it again.”
“Please, just teach me!”
Teasing the Heavenly Demon was quite entertaining. Of course, I was steering the conversation exactly where I wanted it to go.
“I’ll let you call my name as much as you want.”
“You already do that.”
“I’ll help you improve your skills through sparring.”
“Did you forget you lost the last match?”
“Damn it!”
When I felt he was sufficiently riled up, I suddenly said, “Alright, I’ll teach you.”
“What? Really? You’re the best…”
“But remember, nothing in this world is free.”