Chapter 150

157. Inviting You to View the Sword

Early in the morning, the morning market that had spontaneously formed inside this sword shop should have been extremely lively.

Today, however, the atmosphere was strangely quiet.

Yet, quite a few people had arrived, and many were unfamiliar faces within the sword shop.

Xie Lingjiang, Shen Xisheng, Yan Liulang, and other uninvited guests.

Liu Zi'an, Liu Zilin, and other people from the Liu family.

All stood in front of an ordinary breakfast stall.

The former group watched with curious expressions as an old man and a young man sat by a greasy dining table in front.

The latter group stood behind; Liu Zi'an's expression was silent, and Liu Zilin's eyes were grave.

Before the dining table, the young County Magistrate and the old craftsman sat face to face. The young County Magistrate smiled and greeted the direction of the back kitchen a few times.

After a while, the cook, with a smiling face, carefully used rags to pad her hands and brought a bowl of steaming noodle soup to the table.

"Master, please enjoy."

The young County Magistrate reached out to take the chopsticks, turned his head, and didn't forget to smile:

"May I ask if you are Sister Cheng? Aqing mentioned you to me, saying that you have taken good care of her while she worked at the breakfast stall these past two years. She left without saying goodbye due to matters at home a while ago, and she is very sorry."

"It's fine, it's fine. As long as Sister Aqing is okay. We sisters were all a bit worried about her when we didn't see her for a few days. As long as she is doing well outside, that's enough."

Sister Cheng's smile grew a bit wider. She wiped her hands on her apron, looked at the noodle soup that had been rushed to the table, and asked: "Master, would you like some chopped green onions?"

She was indeed a warm-hearted person and didn't act like a stranger.

And someone who had rushed to the Liu family early in the morning to "send warmth" was even more warm-hearted than her.

"Green onions? That must be arranged." Ouyang Rong said with a beaming smile.

Sister Cheng hurried to the back kitchen, scooped a spoonful of green onions, and returned, sprinkling them into the bowl.

Ouyang Rong skillfully mixed the green onion noodle soup and smiled. He withdrew his gaze from Sister Cheng's happy departing back and spoke directly to the silent old craftsman opposite him:

"Is your surname Wu, sir? Do you have a given name?"

The old sword-caster shook his head.

It was unclear whether he was answering or ignoring him; he lowered his head and continued to eat his noodles.

Ouyang Rong examined the old man's messy beard and fingers that looked like scorched, withered wood for a few moments.

They were dressed similarly to the old craftsmen he had seen along the way when he brought people into the sword shop.

Ouyang Rong gave a faint smile, raised his palm, and hooked it behind his shoulder. He lowered his head to drink the soup and eat the noodles.

Thump—!

Accompanied by a light sound.

Something extra appeared on the table next to the pot of yellow wine.

It was Xie Lingjiang who walked up and placed a long sword with a simple scabbard horizontally on the dining table.

The old sword-caster raised his eyelids, which looked like tree bark.

Ouyang Rong asked without raising his head:

"May I ask if this was cast by Old Wu? My Junior Sister told me that this is a good sword, a good sword that even Qi practitioners would covet."

The old sword-caster lowered his head to eat his noodles and remained silent for a long time.

Liu Zi'an and Liu Zilin, who were still wearing mourning clothes, saw the familiar long sword on the table that seemed to be called "Moon Lady," and their expressions changed slightly to varying degrees.

Xie Lingjiang looked at the two with cold eyes.

By the table, the old sword-caster raised his head and finished the green onion noodle soup. Before putting down the bowl and standing up, he suddenly spoke.

"That blue butterfly flower folded from paper—did you give it to her?"

The old man's voice was a bit hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken for a long time, and it sounded a bit unfamiliar.

Ouyang Rong didn't seem to expect him to suddenly ask this question. He nodded and said: "It was a birthday gift for her."

The old sword-caster turned his head, threw a few copper coins on the table as usual, and stood up to leave.

The wine jar on the table was not taken, and the long sword was not taken either.

Yan Liulang and the others held their swords and silently stepped forward.

The young County Magistrate, who was still lowering his head and slowly drinking soup at the table, raised his hand and waved slightly behind him.

Yan Liulang and the other constables stepped aside to make way. The old sword-caster walked through the crowd with his hands behind his back, as if no one was there, and left the morning market.

Xie Lingjiang and the others watched the old man's back fade away, then turned their heads to look curiously at the back of Ouyang Rong, who was continuing to eat his noodles at the table.

Ouyang Rong raised his head and finished the noodle soup with a light "thump" sound, which sounded very loud in the quiet breakfast stall.

He also put down the bowl and placed a few copper coins on the table.

He stood up silently, picked up the wine jar, and carried the long sword.

The young County Magistrate also walked past the crowd gathered in front of the breakfast stall and followed the direction the old sword-caster had left in.

The old man and the young man did not speak at all throughout the process.

The whole scene was strangely quiet.

Hua Xuanji, whether it was their companions who came together like Xie Lingjiang, Shen Xisheng, and Yan Liulang, or the Liu family members like Liu Zi'an and Liu Zilin, they all subconsciously followed behind Ouyang Rong.

Liu Zi'an looked at Ouyang Rong's back and then at a certain place on Little Lone Mountain in the distance.

His expression was complex, and he wanted to step forward to get closer to Ouyang Rong, but was stopped by Xie Lingjiang.

Xie Lingjiang's eyes were cold.

Liu Zi'an stopped and gave a forced laugh; Liu Zilin had sweat on his forehead.

Ouyang Rong didn't seem to care about the movement behind him and continued forward, following the old sword-caster.

And the old sword-caster didn't stop the guests behind him at all.

Thus, on the road from the morning market to the hillside of Little Lone Mountain, such a strange scene appeared.

The old sword-caster walked in the very front.

Ouyang Rong followed behind.

And further behind were the others.

The surprisingly quiet group of people arrived in this grand manner at an old sword furnace on the hillside of Little Lone Mountain.

The old sword-caster entered the sword furnace.

Ouyang Rong and the others raised their heads to look curiously at this sword furnace that seemed to have been abandoned, then followed inside.

Inside the sword furnace.

Yan Liulang looked left and right; it seemed no different from the other sword furnaces he had searched with his men before.

It just looked a bit messier and older.

The black smoke from the past had smoked the bricks and tiles on the ceiling of the sword furnace pitch black. Apart from that.

Only one person and one furnace.

The old sword-caster lay on a rocking chair, behind him was a sword-casting furnace that seemed not to have been lit.

The old sword-caster took a blue folded paper from the cabinet beside him and handed it forward to Ouyang Rong, who was looking around the room.

"What is this?"

Ouyang Rong took the blue folded paper, lowered his head to look, and couldn't help but ask.

Of course, he recognized the blue butterfly flower he had folded by hand before, and he was not surprised that the old sword-caster had brought him here to take back the blue butterfly flower by default.

The only surprise was that the pattern on the blue folded paper had changed.

It was no longer the butterfly flower he had pieced together before with blue Pythagorean-shaped paper blocks. These blue Pythagorean-shaped paper pieces seemed to have been taken off and reassembled into a new pattern.

An arc.

Or rather, an arc surface.

On the blue folded paper.

Was a strange arc surface.

An indescribable arc surface.

Just as Ouyang Rong slightly frowned to examine it closely, the old sword-caster stared at him for a while and suddenly asked:

"Is this paper art called Iris Folding?"

Ouyang Rong was startled, looked at him, and nodded:

"Aqing told you? That's right, it's Iris Folding. Now this... did you refold it yourself, old sir? Hmm, you're quite good at drawing inferences about other cases from one instance..."

The old sword-caster did not reply and looked at the blue arc surface he had reassembled over these days.

Ouyang Rong's eyes also continued to be attracted by the new folded paper pattern.

Iris Folding is actually not a profound paper art.

It is more like a simple mathematical geometry problem.

It is nothing more than using basic geometric shapes, such as the small paper pieces that this world calls Pythagorean shapes—which are actually triangles—to achieve arcs or arc surfaces.

Previously, Ouyang Rong used this paper art to piece together the arc of the blue butterfly flower's petals.

And right now, the old man in front of him had dismantled his original blue butterfly flower.

Simply using the Iris Folding he had learned by imitation, he used all the Pythagorean-shaped small paper pieces to piece together an arc surface.

If he had used small paper pieces to piece together a whole butterfly flower before.

Then now, the old man was using small paper pieces to piece together only a single "petal" on the butterfly flower.

The arc surface of this "butterfly flower petal" was extremely pure.

It was different from any arc naturally born between heaven and earth.

It was different from the bright moon in the sky, the leaves on the ground, the light swimming fish in the water, or the arc surfaces of women lying on the bed, etc.

It was realized entirely by basic triangles.

Ouyang Rong felt it was quite good-looking, a beauty of pure mathematical geometry.

It's just that he estimated that in this world, only he, this "outsider," would know how to appreciate its beauty—wait, that's not right, this seems to have been folded by the old craftsman in front of him.

Ouyang Rong couldn't help but look at the old sword-caster's calm expression and nodded:

"Really beautiful."

Upon hearing this, the corners of the mouth of the old sword-caster, who had always been calm, revealed a hint of an arc, which should have been a smile.

Just like an iron tree blooming.

At the very back of the crowd, Liu Zi'an and Liu Zilin, who were vaguely surrounded and controlled by Yan Liulang and the others, looked at each other.

The two brothers seemed to have never seen his smile since they knew the old sword-caster. Was it seeing a ghost in broad daylight today?

Ouyang Rong continued to lower his head to examine it for a while, touched it with his fingertips, put down the blue folded paper in his hand, and asked:

"Does the old senior want to entrust me to return it to Aqing?"

The old sword-caster restrained his expression and nodded slightly.

Ouyang Rong shook his head:

"No need. I refolded one for Aqing last time, and Aqing said this one was for you, old sir. No need to return it."

As he spoke, he handed the blue folded paper back to the old sword-caster, who did not refuse and took it back.

Ouyang Rong suddenly stood up.

Finally.

Having silently examined this sword furnace for a while, he pointed his finger at the sword-casting furnace with the tightly closed iron door behind the old sword-caster.

Ouyang Rong asked:

"Old sir, what is inside here?"

The whole scene suddenly went quiet.

The gazes of Shen Xisheng, Xie Lingjiang, Yan Liulang, and others all fell on that quiet sword-casting furnace.

Liu Zi'an couldn't help but advise:

"Master County Magistrate, this sword furnace hasn't been lit and has been out of operation for a long time. Old Master Wu is an old man of the sword shop. When he was young, this furnace hadn't stopped working, and he has deep feelings for it, so he just guards the furnace here..."

"Open it."

Ouyang Rong ignored him, looked straight ahead, and said softly.

Liu Zi'an's breathing suddenly became heavier. He suppressed his expression and forced a smile:

"Isn't the Master County Magistrate here to look for the missing female worker? It's impossible for her to have gone missing into the furnace..."

"What if it's murder and burning the corpse."

Yan Liulang added coldly, which immediately choked Liu Zi'an. However, in the next second, the scene in front made the pupils of this Liu family second master shrink sharply.

Only to see that under the gaze of Ouyang Rong's calm eyes.

The old sword-caster turned around calmly, walked to the sword-casting furnace, and reached out to open the circular iron door of the sword-casting furnace...

Inside the sword-casting furnace,

Empty.

Everyone was startled.

Holding back the toothache while typing, this chapter is a bit short. Setting a flag, will add a chapter around 6 PM!

(End of chapter)

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