Chapter 372: A Day in the Life of the Tang Clan Leader
Last spring, a young blacksmith named Seok Ji-ui joined the forge. From the moment he arrived, he was inundated with stories about the Tang Clan Leader from his cousin, Seok Ji-seung, and the other blacksmiths. The way they spoke of the leader was less about admiration and more akin to reverence, which naturally piqued Seok Ji-ui’s curiosity about the leader’s skills.
Nearly a year passed, and one day, the Tang Clan Leader finally appeared at the forge, bringing with him a rare piece of meteoric iron. Seok Ji-ui’s anticipation soared to the heavens.
“What kind of extraordinary item is he planning to make?” he wondered.
However, Seok Ji-ui soon found himself a bit disappointed. The leader’s work wasn’t as dynamic as the stories had suggested. There was no miraculous creation emerging from the forge. Instead, the leader simply heated, hammered, and cut the metal, crafting thin wires like any other blacksmith.
The older blacksmiths watched with fascination, unable to tear their eyes away, but to the young and spirited Seok Ji-ui, it was a rather dull sight. He squirmed as he watched, eventually turning to his cousin with a cautious question.
“Brother, I expected something extraordinary from the Tang Clan Leader, but it doesn’t seem all that special.”
Without turning his head, Seok Ji-seung replied, “Oh, really?”
“Yes. The material is rare, but his skills don’t seem much different from the others. Not that the others aren’t skilled, but…”
Seok Ji-seung chuckled softly. “Do you think you have the eye to recognize a true master?”
It was a fair point. Seok Ji-ui had been at the forge for less than a year and hadn’t even mastered the hammer yet. He would likely spend another year or two in the same state. But hearing such things face-to-face was never pleasant.
“Of course, my judgment isn’t perfect, but a true master has a certain aura, don’t they?”
“True, he does have a different presence than the others.”
“Besides, the stories I heard about the Tang Clan Leader’s skills were far beyond this. They said he could easily create the finest swords and all sorts of extraordinary items, yet here he is making wire…”
Seok Ji-seung placed his rough, scarred hand on his cousin’s head. “Did I ever tell you about the first time I saw the Tang Clan Leader?”
“You’ve told me at least ten times. How you were enlightened watching him casually forge a dagger.”
The dagger, supposedly made by the Tang Clan Leader, still sat in a corner of the forge. It was the finest dagger Seok Ji-ui had ever seen, but he believed it was his cousin’s skill, not the leader’s, that had completed it. After all, the leader hadn’t finished the dagger; it was Seok Ji-seung who had.
In Seok Ji-ui’s mind, a craftsman’s true skill was revealed in the finishing touches.
Seok Ji-seung continued, “That day, the leader wasn’t here to make a dagger.”
“That’s the first I’ve heard of it. What was he making then?”
“He was here to make needles. He started with a dagger, then spent time crafting thin wire. After that, he and I cut and ground the wire to make needles. It’s quite a coincidence you’re seeing this for the first time.”
Seok Ji-ui watched the leader create the thin wire, but unlike his cousin in his youth, he couldn’t grasp what was so impressive about it.
Seok Ji-seung explained further, “Meteoric iron is rare, but it requires even more skill to handle than ordinary iron. Each piece has its own unique properties. Treating it like regular metal is no small feat.”
“Even so…”
“Also, making wire isn’t a common task. You might not know this, but there are specialists who make wire and needles. Even they can’t produce wire as thin as this.”
Indeed, the wire the leader was crafting was incredibly thin, perhaps half the thickness of a barley stalk in autumn. It was impressive, but Seok Ji-ui thought it wasn’t perfect.
“The key to making wire is strength and flexibility, followed by uniform thickness. I can’t judge its strength or flexibility, but I can see the thickness isn’t consistent.”
As Seok Ji-ui noted, the wire had slightly thicker sections, reminiscent of bamboo nodes, though the comparison was a bit generous.
An older blacksmith listening nearby chuckled. “You’ve got a decent eye, Ji-ui. The wire isn’t uniform, but the spacing of those thicker parts is precise. The leader must have done it intentionally.”
“Why would anyone make uneven wire on purpose? It must be a mistake.”
Seok Ji-ui stubbornly held his ground, much like his cousin had in his youth.
Seok Ji-seung spoke again, “Mistakes are common in blacksmithing. We often have to melt down nearly finished pieces and start over. You’ll experience it when you start wielding a hammer, and I still make mistakes even after ten years. Especially with small, intricate items.”
“That’s only natural.”
“But I’ve never seen the Tang Clan Leader make a mistake. Not once.”
Seok Ji-ui glanced at his cousin, trying to gauge if he was exaggerating. But Seok Ji-seung’s calm expression suggested he was telling the truth.
Without asking for further explanation, Seok Ji-ui turned his attention back to the wire the leader was crafting. It was as thin as a strand of hair. Despite its unevenness, he realized that even specialists couldn’t produce wire this fine.
”…He must be quite skilled.”
After completing the wire, the leader took a chisel and began tapping it with a hammer, cutting the wire at the thicker sections. The result was a wire that was thin at the front but had a small, thicker section at the back, resembling a tiny nail more than a needle.
Even the lengths of the cut wires were identical. As the older blacksmith had said, the leader had intentionally made the wire uneven.
”…That’s quite something.”
The leader then picked up a small hammer and struck the thicker sections three times each, flattening them. The result was a shape resembling the fletching on an arrow.
After refining the flattened sections, the leader addressed the blacksmiths. “Could you lend a hand, please?”
The blacksmiths, who had been watching, responded, “You want us to sharpen the wire into needles, right?”
“Yes, please.”
Seok Ji-ui could handle sharpening metal on a whetstone, but the other blacksmiths took all the wire, leaving him with nothing to do. Left with no task, Seok Ji-ui watched as the leader finished his work.
The leader quickly sharpened the end of a wire he had kept aside, crafting a needle in no time. But what intrigued Seok Ji-ui was the purpose of the flattened section, which was no larger than half a pinky nail.
“Is it meant to be a handle? But do needles even need handles?”
The leader took the smallest chisel, sharpened it further, and began tapping it against the flattened section with a hammer.
As Seok Ji-ui craned his neck to see, the leader gestured for him to come closer. “You won’t see much from back there. Come closer if you want a good look.”
“Oh, yes.”
“You’re Seok’s cousin, right?”
”…Yes.”
“You do look alike. Anyway, come closer.”
The leader’s tone was oddly familiar, as if speaking to his own cousin. Seok Ji-ui didn’t refuse the leader’s kindness and moved closer to watch.
“Is he engraving a tiny pattern?”
There was just enough space to carve a few lines. Such a pattern would prevent slipping when held, adding both aesthetic and practical value.
“If he slips, it’ll break… He must be confident in his skills.”
But soon, Seok Ji-ui realized something unbelievable. The leader was engraving a name into that tiny space using the chisel and hammer. It was a name Seok Ji-ui recognized well—the name of the physician who oversaw the doctors visiting the Tang Clan, Chu Sam.
The text was so small, it seemed impossible for the older council members, who all suffered from presbyopia, to read it.
Yet, the writing was immaculate, as if it had been meticulously crafted with the tip of a fine animal hair dipped in ink.
Without realizing it, Seok Ji-ui held his breath for a moment.
This was beyond mere craftsmanship; it was an art form, perhaps even surpassing the realm of art itself.
’…How is something like this even possible?’
Instinctively, Seok Ji-ui understood. At just nineteen, with a lifetime ahead of him, he knew he could never replicate such skill, no matter how hard he tried.
He didn’t even aspire to reach that level someday. Instead of feeling competitive, he felt a strange sense of defeat.
The master craftsman swiftly completed one name and began engraving another.
Son Yeop.
Ga Yu-hui.
Hak Hyo-un.
Oh Jang-hong.
Name after name of numerous council members was inscribed in the small space.
With each completed needle, Seok Ji-ui found himself inching closer to the master craftsman, almost unconsciously.
Eventually, he was so close that his breath brushed the back of the craftsman’s head, yet the master didn’t scold him, allowing him to watch the work unfold.
Seok Ji-ui recalled his cousin Seok Ji-seung’s words.
Hadn’t he said he’d never seen the master make a mistake?
It was true. Among the countless strokes engraved in the narrow space, not a single one was misplaced or flawed.
It was undoubtedly a divine skill. It wasn’t just exceptional; it was a talent that transcended human capability.
Seok Ji-ui had heard tales of the master’s many talents.
Martial arts, poison crafting, medicine, and metallurgy—each mastered to perfection.
But Seok Ji-ui was certain. Of all the master’s talents, the most outstanding was undoubtedly his skill in metallurgy and craftsmanship.
How much time had passed? The master, engrossed in his work with his head bowed, finally lifted his head and stretched his neck.
Only then did Seok Ji-ui realize how close he had gotten and took a step back.
“Uh… I must have been a distraction. I’m sorry.”
The master waved it off.
“Not at all. I was planning to stop here for today.”
“What?”
“I think I’ve done enough for now, don’t you?”
Before them lay over thirty needles, each engraved with a name.
Seok Ji-ui glanced outside the forge. The sun had set, and it was growing dark.
‘When did it get so late?’
He bowed slightly, preparing to leave, but realized there was something he needed to ask.
”…What are you going to do with these needles?”
He had a hunch but felt compelled to ask.
The master replied nonchalantly.
“I plan to give one to each of the council members. They’ve been with us for months, so I thought it would be nice to give them a memento.”
“Oh…”
Seok Ji-ui sighed softly.
Not selling them, but giving them away. These needles weren’t even considered a masterpiece.
His chest felt tight, his emotions swaying.
In the end, Seok Ji-ui made up his mind. He would look for work outside of metallurgy.
Life was too long to spend struggling against an insurmountable wall.
Just then, the other craftsmen spoke up.
“Thank you for your hard work today.”
Only then did Seok Ji-ui realize that others had been watching him and the master.
The master seemed accustomed to the attention, but Seok Ji-ui was not. He felt a belated sense of embarrassment.
“Yes. See you tomorrow.”
As the master rose and spoke, Seok Ji-seung approached him.
“Tomorrow, then. Is there much work left?”
“We need to make a little over fifty needles to distribute, so we’ll be working similarly tomorrow.”
“I see. Understood.”
Seok Ji-ui’s ears perked up.
Even if he quit metallurgy, he couldn’t miss out on witnessing such a spectacle.
’…I should at least come to the forge until tomorrow.’
Seok Ji-seung asked again.
“Will you finish everything by tomorrow?”
“Since we’ve started, I plan to make all the needles, even if we engrave the names later. With the iron we have, we should be able to make at least five hundred. It’ll take a few more days, but it’s worth the effort since they’ll last for nearly a decade.”
Seok Ji-ui’s ears perked up again.
He realized the master’s skill was extraordinary only when he began engraving names.
But the other craftsmen had been watching with interest from the start. They knew something Seok Ji-ui hadn’t realized.
So Seok Ji-ui changed his mind again. He decided to stay at the forge until the work was done, determined to find out what made it so special.
The craftsmen watching Seok Ji-ui smiled knowingly.
They could see right through him. Most of them had stayed at the forge after going through a similar process.
Seok Ji-ui would watch the engraving tomorrow. The day after, he’d watch the hammering of the wire.
The next day, he’d observe the hands holding the tongs, and the day after that, he’d watch the eyes gauging the fire’s temperature and working the bellows.
By then, it would be too late to live away from the fire and the sound of metal.
Even knowing he could never reach it, Seok Ji-ui would remain at the forge, striving to get just a little closer.
Like a cedar tree that grows endlessly toward the sky, knowing it can never touch it.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“See you tomorrow.”
As the craftsmen bid farewell to the master, he returned the gesture and left.
The surroundings quickly became bustling, and the craftsmen began tidying up.
As the youngest in the forge, Seok Ji-ui moved diligently. Yet, his gaze was somewhat dreamy.
Unbeknownst to him, the young man at the forge had taken his first step toward becoming a craftsman.
Another day at the forge came to an end.