“Your hands are all torn up. You should let them heal before you push yourself too hard. Just say the word, and I’ll open the forge for you. No need to rush.”
Seok Ji-seung’s tone had noticeably softened.
Right now, what mattered more to him than his pride was the outcome that Tang Mu-jin would produce, and the process of creating it.
“It’s fine. Cuts and burns are just part of a blacksmith’s life, aren’t they?”
Tang Mu-jin said this as he flicked the blood off his right hand.
A blacksmith’s hands are never pristine. A skilled blacksmith isn’t someone who avoids small injuries but someone who has grown accustomed to them.
Even if a blacksmith has spent a lifetime hammering metal and is used to the sound of clanging iron and the heat of the forge, they are not exempt. An old blacksmith can still cut their hand while sharpening a blade or get burned by flying sparks.
But blacksmiths don’t see their scars as shameful. They are not marks of inexperience but badges of honor etched into their skin.
Torn hands are part of the same story. It’s the process of developing rough, strong hands. As long as you take care not to damage your muscles and tendons, you’ll be fine.
Tang Mu-jin’s hands moved vigorously as he gripped the bellows handle.
The forge’s flames roared more fiercely than when he was making a dagger.
A dagger doesn’t need to bend easily. It just needs to hold until it breaks.
But a needle is different. The process of making a needle is an extension of making wire.
While a needle doesn’t need to be as flexible as wire, it does require a minimum level of ductility.
‘It needs to be hot enough for folding.’
To imbue the metal with ductility, it must undergo the folding process.
The metal, heated to a bright yellow, is hammered flat, folded, and hammered again.
This process is repeated at least three or four times, sometimes more than ten, to create a metal with the desired ductility.
A sword made through multiple folds can withstand great force without breaking, bending flexibly and returning to its original shape. Both the treasured swords of martial arts masters and fine wires are made through this process.
Tang Mu-jin inserted tongs into the forge to stir the ashes. A wave of heat surged forth.
“Seok, could you hold the tongs for me?”
“Oh, sure.”
Tang Mu-jin casually asked Seok Ji-seung to assist him, and Seok Ji-seung accepted the tongs without hesitation.
The hammer Tang Mu-jin picked up this time was much larger than the one he used for the dagger.
It’s not about using a smaller hammer for smaller items. The needle requires much more forceful hammering than a dagger, so a larger hammer is appropriate.
“Do you know how to make wire?”
“I’ll give it a try.”
People often think blacksmiths make all metal objects.
But that’s only half true. While all metal objects are crafted by blacksmiths, not every blacksmith can make every type of metal object.
Most blacksmiths make farming tools and kitchen knives.
There are specialized blacksmiths who make weapons, known as swordsmiths. Seok Ji-seung and his predecessor were such swordsmiths.
Just as there are blacksmiths who specialize in weapons, there are those who specialize in making wire, nails, needles, and pins. These are known as needle smiths or wire smiths.
Though their work may seem insignificant, the skill of a needle smith must be as precise as that of a swordsmith. It’s no wonder that the needles Seok Ji-seung made were crude and thick, given his lack of experience.
As Seok Ji-seung watched with a mix of concern and curiosity, Tang Mu-jin brought the hammer down.
Clang!
A loud sound echoed. Once again, the hammer struck with precision, evidenced by the nearly uniform spray of sparks.
The red-hot metal was flattened and folded. Flattened again, and folded once more.
Despite his lack of strength, Tang Mu-jin worked with surprising speed.
After the metal was folded three times, Tang Mu-jin was out of breath.
Huff—
Tang Mu-jin frowned and lowered the hammer.
Being out of breath wasn’t the issue. The problem was his shoulder.
Swinging a heavy hammer with an untrained body had left his shoulder unresponsive.
The dull ache turned into a subtle pain and then back to a dull ache, warning him that further use could cause damage.
‘It’s not for wire, so this should be enough folding.’
Seok Ji-seung was staring intently at the metal. Tang Mu-jin spoke to him.
“Seok, I’m sorry to keep asking, but could you take over the hammering for a bit? My shoulder’s not in great shape.”
“Oh—of course.”
Seok Ji-seung placed the small piece of metal back into the forge to heat it again.
As Tang Mu-jin held the end of the metal, Seok Ji-seung expertly brought the hammer down.
His muscles, honed by hard work, flexed. Unlike Tang Mu-jin’s feeble arms, Seok Ji-seung’s seemed capable of swinging a hammer all day.
The metal went in and out of the forge two more times. Heated, hammered, and cut. Seok Ji-seung crafted the flattest, thinnest wire he could manage.
Tang Mu-jin flicked the finished wire with his finger. The sensation at his fingertips was satisfying.
However, it was still thick—about the width of a few grains of rice stacked together.
It couldn’t be used as a needle or pin, but with a bit of refinement, it could serve as an awl or nail.
Seok Ji-seung asked sheepishly, “Isn’t it a bit thick?”
“This is fine. Time will take care of the rest. I’ll borrow a whetstone.”
Tang Mu-jin picked up the metal piece and headed to the corner of the forge. Grinding is usually done in the most secluded part of a forge, and Seok’s forge was no exception.
Various whetstones were prepared, from coarse and rough to fine and smooth.
Tang Mu-jin leisurely ground the metal piece on a coarse whetstone.
Seok Ji-seung closed the forge door and joined Tang Mu-jin, grinding metal pieces alongside him.
There are tasks in life where shortcuts simply don’t work.
The two men were so engrossed in their work that they skipped meals. The grinding that began before lunch only ended late at night.
‘I can’t remember the last time I worked with such focus.’
Perhaps it was when he first learned the trade.
For nearly a decade, he hadn’t concentrated on work like this. He didn’t even feel hungry.
Seok Ji-seung looked at the twenty or so needles. The wire, once as thick as a few grains of rice, had been refined to the point where it could pierce even millet.
Compared to these needles, the ones he had made before were like metal clubs. Now he understood why Tang Mu-jin had been so particular.
‘Amazing.’
He never imagined metal could be refined to such thinness.
This wasn’t simply the result of prolonged grinding and filing.
To create such fine needles, one needs the skill to produce wire that is both strong and uniformly tempered. Otherwise, the needle would break or bend before taking shape.
If someone else had made these needles, they might have credited high-quality iron ore, but that excuse didn’t apply here. The iron used for these needles was from the forge’s own stock.
So where did the difference between these fine needles and the crude ones he made before lie?
The answer was clear. The folding and forging techniques Tang Mu-jin demonstrated. That brief process created such a significant difference.
Today, Seok Ji-seung gained a profound insight. An insight so significant it could change the course of his life as a swordsmith.
Just as he was about to thank Tang Mu-jin, Tang Mu-jin bowed his head first.
“Thanks to you, Seok, I’ve got something good.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I just helped a little.”
“It seems like you did more than just help. Look at the state I’m in.”
Having overworked his arms, Tang Mu-jin could barely lift them. He was sure to suffer from severe muscle pain for days.
Tang Mu-jin spoke with a weary smile.
“I don’t know how to repay you for all your help.”
“Repay? Don’t worry about it. If anyone owes anything, it’s me.”
“But still.”
“If it bothers you, just drop by the forge now and then. Watching you make things is more than enough.”
“Alright. I’ll see you next time.”
Tang Mu-jin bowed and returned to the clinic.
After seeing Tang Mu-jin off, Seok Ji-seung quickly returned to the forge and grabbed the dagger Tang Mu-jin had made.