Chapter 73

Seventy-five, Making All Qi Practitioners in the World Bow Their Heads

Facts proved that when one is in a bad mood, one will encounter things that make the mood even worse.

The old craftsman put down the wine pot and opened it again.

He sat alone in the corner, drinking his sorrows away, one mouthful after another.

Drinking so much in the morning, this pot of wine probably wouldn't be enough for him to drink when casting swords at night.

This was like someone who had turned over a new leaf, clearly having set a brand-new self-disciplined schedule after getting up at seven tomorrow, accurate to the millisecond, but tonight he couldn't help but indulge a little before self-discipline, playing directly until six in the morning.

The old craftsman was in exactly that mood now.

Breakfast stall.

"Proprietress, why aren't the steamed rice cakes ready yet?"

Among the group of sword workers chatting at the next table, a young man said impatiently.

This young man had been surrounded by other sword workers since he walked in, as if he were the center of the small group.

He wore a clean blue craftsman's uniform, his hair crown was tied up quite elegantly, and his face was cold and arrogant.

When other sword workers were chatting, the blue-clad young man pulled out a wooden chopstick and spun it between his fingers, as if he were too lazy to join in.

However, when he heard his companions discussing the new County Magistrate just now, he sneered and mocked him twice.

Now, as soon as the blue-clad young man's dissatisfied words came out, the female tassel weavers in the back kitchen were immediately in a flurry.

The leading female tassel weaver wiped her hands on her apron, bent down, and said with an apologetic face:

"Sorry, gentlemen, the new basket of cakes isn't steamed yet..."

A middle-aged sword worker who had been joking as soon as he entered the door said with a smile:

"Proprietress, be a bit faster. Don't delay Brother Chen's work. We idlers can wait, it doesn't matter if we slack off or are late, but Brother Chen is different. He is the son of Master Craftsman Chen and the youngest newly promoted sword craftsman in our shop. After eating, he has to go to the Jia-3 sword furnace to cast swords. If he's delayed for even a breath, your little stall won't be able to afford the compensation."

The leading female tassel weaver was even more flustered and hurried forward to apologize humbly.

The sword furnaces on the west bank of the Butterfly Creek in the Gu Yue Sword Shop were divided into four grades: Jia, Yi, Bing, and Ding.

And the Jia-grade sword furnaces were all in excellent locations close to the Butterfly Creek, and the Jia-3 sword furnace was naturally among the best.

Everyone knew that apart from the legendary Jia-1 sword furnace that was only a facade and never existed, and the Jia-2 sword furnace where top master craftsmen gathered and only cast imperial tribute swords, the most powerful was the Jia-3 sword furnace.

The blue-clad young man snorted lightly, facing the awe-filled gazes of the female tassel weavers and the envious eyes of the surrounding diners, he played with his chopsticks as if nothing had happened, noncommittal.

Actually, he only got into the Jia-3 sword furnace to help his father because of his father's reputation, but this didn't prevent him from still being someone unreachable in the eyes of everyone at this small stall.

The blue-clad young man quite enjoyed this atmosphere of being the center of attention.

But at this moment, a little tassel weaver in a cloth skirt holding a plate of hot steamed rice cakes walked out of the kitchen in the simple shed, and then, under everyone's gaze, placed it on the table of an old man in a hemp robe sitting alone at the table next to the blue-clad young man and the others.

A-Qing turned around and went back to weave tassels.

The old craftsman pulled out a pair of chopsticks, aligned them, and prepared to eat.

The blue-clad young man's face immediately lengthened, and the middle-aged sword worker beside him saw it and frowned in dissatisfaction:

"Proprietress, didn't you say the new basket wasn't ready yet? How come some people are already eating, are you fooling us? Or did they pay more?"

"No, no, this, this is a regular customer, A-Qing heats a plate for him alone every morning..."

"Forget it, I'm not eating."

The blue-clad young man stood up to leave, and his companions who were currying favor with him immediately pulled him back.

A sword worker with a savage temper stood up directly, snatched the hot steamed rice cakes from under the old craftsman's chopsticks, brought them to the table in front of the blue-clad young man, and just left a perfunctory sentence:

"Sorry, sorry, please wait for the next basket."

The old craftsman held a pair of aligned chopsticks in his hand, raised them in the air, and stared silently at the empty tabletop.

He didn't move at all.

The crowd looked sideways, and after a while, the hunched old man who was alone still didn't move.

The female tassel weavers could only acquiesce and didn't go to stop them.

The breakfast stall returned to the lively morning bustle.

The blue-clad young man and his group continued to eat and drink.

The old craftsman didn't listen to the proprietress's apology beside him, picked up the half-pot of sloshing yellow wine and continued to drink. This pot of wine definitely wouldn't last until night.

He understood a truth when he was young.

If an apology was useful, then what would swords be needed for in this world?

Half a quarter of an hour later than usual, the new steamed rice cakes were served, and the proprietress added two more.

The old craftsman didn't speak, finished eating silently, put down his chopsticks, and stood up to leave.

Clatter.

Another pot of wine appeared on the table.

The old craftsman found it was exactly the same as the one in his hand.

The old man raised his withered eyelids and saw the delicate little face of the little tassel weaver in the cloth skirt.

She had run to the back kitchen again to fetch a pot of wine for him.

It turned out that this little errand girl didn't go out to buy it every day, but had stocked up a few pots.

She was smart.

"Put it on the tab." The voice was a bit hoarse.

Said the old craftsman who didn't like to talk in the morning.

The little tassel weaver in the cloth skirt didn't reply, turned around and ran back to that wooden stool, climbed up and sat down, continued to lower her head, her two thin little legs swinging lightly, and carefully wove tassels.

The old craftsman carried two pots of wine, walked through the bustling market calmly, and no one noticed him along the way.

The old man returned to the sword furnace room halfway up the mountain, and as soon as he entered the door, he said to a servant waiting with his hands down:

"Call Liu Liu Ziwen and Liu Liu Zian over."

The servant didn't say a word and immediately went out.

After a while, a sickly-looking young man in brocade clothes arrived first; it was Liu Liu Zian.

After entering, he stood with his hands down and eyes lowered, his tone respectful:

"Big brother is still in the county town on the east bank, and has already sent someone to call him. Please wait a moment, old sir."

"No need to wait. You go back and tell him."

The old craftsman got up from beside the furnace fire, walked out the door past Liu Liu Zian, came to the lawn outside the house, faced the Butterfly Creek, sipped wine, and observed the Qi.

Liu Liu Zian dismissed the servants beside him with a look, followed the old man to the windy lawn, stood behind him, and waited patiently.

"What is going on with the Zhe Zhe Yiqu?"

"It's the new County Magistrate, who is a bit out of our control."

"Heh, is there anything in this Longcheng County that can be out of your Liu family's control?" The old craftsman, who hadn't gone out for many years, asked back.

"Old sir, you flatter us. This new County Magistrate is indeed tricky, and big brother is still hesitating whether to do some things..."

The old craftsman interrupted coldly:

"I don't care how you two do it, nor do I care if it's difficult or not, I only have one thing to say."

"Please speak, old sir." Liu Liu Zian was solemn.

"Within three months, the water level of the Butterfly Creek must not change; keep it as it is. Whether it's the Zhe Zhe Yiqu or the plum rain flooding the Lady Yunmeng Marsh, the water level on the west bank downstream must be maintained!"

The old craftsman said coldly: "After three months, I don't care if it floods the sky."

Liu Liu Zian was stunned, then trembled all over, his mouth dry as he asked: "Does the old sir mean..."

"Within three months."

The old craftsman took another sip of wine; there was an extra pot of yellow wine today, enough to drink.

He spat out a breath of wine and nodded: "Within three months, it will be born."

"Good... good... good!" Liu Liu Zian nodded heavily, saying "good" three times in a row, "Is it finally coming..."

This second young master of the Liu family had trembling fingers, clenched them into fists, then relaxed them, then clenched them again... he even couldn't help but pace back and forth on the lawn.

His face was excited, as if a dream he had had for ten years was about to come true.

The old craftsman frowned: "Just started getting excited, has the Zhe Zhe Yiqu matter been solved?"

Liu Liu Zian calmed down a bit and shook his head lightly, "Old sir, there's no need to worry about the Zhe Zhe Yiqu for now."

"What do you mean? I don't understand this, don't play riddles with me."

Liu Liu Zian said directly:

"The Zhe Zhe Yiqu is a major water conservancy project. Cutting off the bends and straightening it might indeed cure the water disasters in Longcheng once and for all, but unlike the Di Gong Gate, it has high technical difficulty and a small project volume; it's the exact opposite, so it's very difficult to dig through within three months. This kind of project volume starts at least over a hundred days."

He let out a long breath at the same time: "And the old sir only needs the last three months, so our west bank of the Butterfly Creek is temporarily safe. However, this will affect the business of the Gu Yue Sword Shop half a year later..."

The old craftsman lost interest in what followed; he had just said that after three months, he didn't care if it flooded the sky.

"Then what about the Di Gong Gate?" The old man asked with a cold face again, "I heard it hasn't been built yet. What on earth are you dawdling about?"

Liu Liu Zian's face was a bit embarrassed:

"The Di Gong Gate should logically be built by the Longcheng County Office; they should be the ones in a hurry, but the current situation... the county office has been led astray by that new County Magistrate and turned to dig the Zhe Zhe Yiqu instead..."

The old craftsman waved his hand to interrupt: "So you aren't building it either, right?"

Liu Liu Zian shook his head vigorously.

The old craftsman turned back, stared into his eyes, and said word by word:

"Don't feed me this messy stuff. I only care about that sword, and I only watch the 'Qi' of the Butterfly Creek. You handle the other miscellaneous matters. This is also what you personally guaranteed when I brought it to find your Liu family in the first place."

Liu Liu Zian lowered his head and eyes: "Understood, old sir. The Di Gong Gate will definitely be built. The water level of the Butterfly Creek will never rise within three months. I will go back and discuss it with big brother."

The old craftsman looked at him for a while, nodded, and prepared to return to the thatched cottage.

Liu Liu Zian showed a look of wanting to say something but stopping.

The old craftsman paused, too lazy to turn his head: "Speak if you have something to say."

"It's like this, that new County Magistrate is a bit troublesome, and big brother is looking for big shots above to discuss it, but I was thinking, isn't the old sir also a big shot? Maybe you could give a little..."

Liu Liu Zian stopped appropriately and said sincerely: "But it's fine, the old sir is busy, it's fine if you can't spare the time."

"You kid are quite smart."

The old craftsman laughed lightly, stood in place and thought for a moment, "Fine."

He suddenly turned around, pointed a withered finger at the Jia-3 sword furnace by the Butterfly Creek at the foot of the mountain that was bustling with activity, and said calmly:

"The Jia-1 sword furnace cannot be touched, but that little furnace below is mine. Although I haven't done it for a long time... heh, I'll fix up a little gadget for you in a few days, take it to solve the trouble, or send it to someone who can solve the trouble. Don't bother me again for these three months."

"Yes!" Liu Liu Zian nodded immediately, deciding the stay or departure of nearly a hundred sword craftsmen down the mountain without even thinking.

He instead said gratefully: "Thank you, old sir!"

The old craftsman turned and returned to the house. On the way, he seemed to remember something, shook his head and muttered: "What kind of stuff is this, using the same grade of furnace as me?"

Liu Liu Zian, who was holding his breath, didn't understand, but didn't dare to ask more. He stood motionless in place, respectfully watching the old man leave.

The old man walked with his hands behind his back, holding the wine pot, and walked toward that Jia-1 sword furnace that had been cold for many years and looked like it had been abandoned.

He was not a craftsman.

He was a sword caster.

He wanted to cast a flying sword to make all the Qi practitioners in the world bow their heads.

It's here!