Chapter 85: Ninety, Smelting Cauldron Forges Sword, Liu Clan Bows Head

Ninety, Smelting Cauldron Forges Sword, Liu Clan Bows Head

“What is a cauldron?”

In the main chamber of Yilan Pavilion.

Eating melon seeds only to find the scandal had landed on his own Longcheng County, Ouyang Rong’s right eyelid twitched uncontrollably.

Weren’t we agreed this was low-magic? You qi-refiners leap across eaves, stroll on walls, occasionally host a Sword-Asking Gathering to warmly greet each other, throw in some traditional brawls and deaths—and even a strange sight of a white ape carrying a sword—fine, that’s understandable…

But why suddenly introduce something this supernatural, capable of triggering celestial phenomena?

So all this time he’d been bustling around Longcheng, fighting with the Liu family, he was just cleaning up the fallout from some “aloof and magnificent” mythic force?

Ouyang Rong’s expression turned wary; frankly, he couldn’t accept it.

His inner Merit Tower still upheld karmic cycles and retribution.

But after carefully listening to his junior sister’s full explanation, he exhaled and asked half-skeptically:

“Can it still cause floods? This… sounds unreasonable.”

Ouyang Rong frowned: “Then how could such a heavyweight artifact be monopolized by just the Yunmeng Sword Marsh?”

“Captain Yan, what exactly does the County Magistrate mean by that?”

Liu Ziwen glanced at his senior brother, then nodded:

“What does the cauldron look like? Eight legs? Seven legs?”

Xie Ling fell silent.

“And you say the Liu family upholds rules?”

There’s always another cup of tea—I’ll say straight:

That’s not what I meant.

In the small hall of the government office, Yunmeng Jian gave the sickly-looking noble youth Ouyang Rong a curious, slightly hostile appraisal.

“Even if you weren’t injured this time, when you went to the Peach Valley Sword-Asking Gathering, you didn’t see it—Liu Zian Ze never allowed outsiders to view the cauldron; the one they’ve hidden hasn’t appeared in many years.”

Xie Ling forced a weak smile, glanced around the hall, then turned back, face earnest:

“No mistake. But Senior Brother serves the Emperor loyally and possesses talent to govern the world—surely His Majesty holds you in high esteem.”

“…”

Yan Bala pouted:

Xie Ling felt a pang of discomfort.

Xie Ling gritted his teeth and blurted: “It’s not the County Magistrate’s decision.”

“I’m just joking—how could the Liu family possibly be so lawless? I’m an imperial official; killing an official is rebellion. My family would never dare!”

“No.”

The blue-clad head constable with the saber blocked the agitated Ouyang Rong and glanced at him, preparing to leave.

“Hey, that’s not what I meant.”

It’s not exhaustion that’s the problem—it’s ghosts.

The atmosphere grew awkwardly silent.

Cheng Huandan’s facial muscles stiffened; he hurriedly explained:

Cheng Huandan raised a hand to interrupt, then looked at him with serious expression:

“…” Xie Ling took the tea, forced a smile: “No, no, sir, I feel right at home under the County Magistrate’s care.”

“Wait, wait, wait.”

“Among cultivated qi-refiners, the first known cauldron-sword emerged at the end of the Qin Dynasty; the last rumored appearance of a new cauldron-sword was at the end of the Sui Dynasty.”

“So tell me, what business did Elder Liu send you here to convey to me?”

“No, no, sir, you’re absolutely right—life demands good deeds. This vile creature was born of the Liu family’s sins; my elder brother has recently been burning incense and worshipping Buddha, deeply aware of this path, and believes the Liu family must step forward and do more good for Longcheng.”

“All of them. Those who came to Meilu Garden also brought some…”

“Rumors say four, but few remain—most were melted down to forge swords.”

Yunmeng Jian chuckled, twisting his lips:

“The suburbs are small; setting up porridge stalls must be done cautiously—such matters don’t need reporting to the government office.”

At that moment, a quiet sound came from the courtyard; Yunmeng Jian and Liu Ziwen rose to see a Su Fu gatekeeper arriving with Liu Ashan, as if delivering urgent news, intercepted by Yilan Pavilion’s maidservants.

The government office sent someone—it was Xie Ling.

“Little Brother Liu, don’t overthink it—I’m not talking about you alone.”

Yunmeng Jian had little interest in the reclusive Wu-Yue male cultivators of Yunmeng Marsh; he pressed:

Liu Ziwen nodded, then shook his head:

“…Makes some sense.”

“The Liu family deeply regrets Brother Eight’s repeated offenses against me and my private secretary—we failed to discipline this vile creature, and it foolishly insulted me.”

“…?”

For instance, he never secretly compared himself to former Longcheng magistrates like Di Fuzi or Tao Yuanming.

Xie Ling had assumed that by adopting such a lofty posture and offering such false humility, he’d at least make the elderly magistrate reconsider.

Liu Ashan said solemnly: “Master, someone from the Liu family wishes to see you.”

Yunmeng Jian pondered: the former glories of Longcheng County, once blessed with Butterfly Creek, weren’t just stories his senior sister told—he’d heard them from Yan Bala and Liu Ashan too.

“There’s more than one cauldron.”

“Then good.”

Yunmeng Jian cut him off, lifting the food box and walking ahead: “Old rule—reject everything from Meilu Garden. The government office’s offerings—we go now.”

“Little Brother Liu, skip the preliminaries—I have a direct nature and can’t stand roundabout talk; I always feel others are just spinning wheels wasting time. Hey, did I say anything offensive just now?”

“That’s enough. Dare you invite the Magistrate to dinner? Do you think he’s come here to beg on his knees? Go home and think clearly—who’s begging now?”

But today, this man was immune to such tricks.

Yet he hadn’t expected that after hearing his words, the handsome young man in blue-green official robes would visibly darken in expression.

“To kill. And not just ordinary people.”

After visiting the government office, Xie Ling finally cured his hypertension.

“Invite me to dinner? If your servants accidentally drop a cup, will eight hundred axe-wielders leap out and chop off the corrupt official’s head?”

Cheng Huandan’s eyes shifted; he immediately straightened, bowed respectfully:

Liu Ziwen nodded in satisfaction, glanced at his senior brother—yes, they still had excellent rapport, like close friends reunited.

The senior sister sighed, addressing Yunmeng Jian:

The sickly-looking noble youth in brocade instantly gripped the chair arm, then relaxed—had the lacquered wooden arm not left deep fingerprints damp with sweat, one might think nothing had happened.

“In history, nearly every dynasty that restored order had emperors who forged swords—either founding monarchs consolidating heavenly mandate, or reviving rulers renewing the state’s fate, or dying monarchs’ last gasp before plunging the realm into chaos… but in our dynasty, the Taizu Emperor decreed: never forge swords.”

“Di Gong Dam.”

Yan Bala didn’t answer, but paused, as if moved by pity, glancing sideways at Xie Ling:

Xie Shigui hesitated, mimicking his father’s tone when explaining secret matters, adopting a mysterious expression, then spoke slowly:

Yunmeng Jian laughed: “It probably got melted down into a sword already—too ashamed to show it.”

“The Liu family is willing to assist the government office in constructing Cheng Huan Dam…”

Xie Ling’s expression turned serious:

Cheng Huandan licked his dry lips, stared at the young magistrate older than himself, smiling calmly—he blurted eight words:

The young magistrate frowned, offering advice: “Can’t you just kill without making it obvious? You need more imagination—be more creative.”

You shook your head firmly:

After pointing out the clear path, the blue-clad constable left without looking back, leaving Ouyang Rong standing frozen, face slowly flushing red.

Cheng Huandan was the one who rolled.

Xie Ling took a deep breath, held back his anger, and smiled sincerely:

“By the way, I came today to deliver an invitation—my elder brother holds the County Magistrate in the highest esteem and wishes to invite you to dinner. Might you have time tonight to visit our humble home and taste some simple home cooking?”

“Senior Brother, I don’t fully believe it either. But once, a Confucian elder told me that the nine mythic Dao veins seem to have originated from cauldrons—the earliest Qin-era qi-refining techniques spread from them. This is a true mythic artifact, profoundly mysterious.”

Cheng Huandan shook his head: “The Liu family has won me over. When I first arrived, people already suggested I pay respects to your ‘Liu family’.”

“Do you think Longcheng’s rules are set by the Liu family—or by the Magistrate? Go home and think clearly about that first.”

“Don’t slip me silver—later, go to the treasury and donate a thousand strings to Zhe Yiqu.”

…

“Hmph.”

Yunmeng Jian frowned slightly, then turned back and sighed:

“Moreover, the Yunmeng Sword Marsh holds the succession lineage of the Yue Nu Dao Vein—their depth far exceeds what you imagine. Across history, the original four mythic Dao veins still preserving fragmented transmissions are truly few.”

“Regardless, it’s still among the top-tier hidden sects of the age, capable of guarding a cauldron—this is precisely why Xue Zhong Zhu dares to so arrogantly reject outside opinions… but the new head of Yunmeng, the male lord, is too domineering—not good.”

Hmm—not just competing with the same generation, but with four generations of ancestors.

“…”

Xie Ling immediately realized—he reluctantly pulled out a handful of silver and forced a smile to press it upon him:

“Little Brother Liu, your esteemed presence humbles me.”

“Moreover, there are no surviving sword-forgers today. The Sui Emperor forged swords seven times; during the collapse of the dynasty, he slaughtered every sword-forging master along Butterfly Creek—the craft lineage, as ancient as the Yue Nu Dao Vein, is now extinct.”

Clearly, sending such a person to request an audience, the Liu family had put on quite the show of humility.

Yunmeng Jian didn’t smile, making Cheng Huandan even more awkward; the young magistrate, tired of words, said:

Cheng Huandan smiled and nodded, and just as Xie Lingjiang thought he had caught it, the magistrate of Nianzhong suddenly said: “But what if I’ve taken it to heart? What if you kneel down first and apologize to me?”

The current magistrate of Longcheng seeks only to sabotage my mission of disaster relief and flood control.

I smiled and shook my head: “I know the common folk dare not, hahaha, I’m truly witty…”

Cheng Huandan, preparing to see the guest off, turned back and raised his sword-like brows.

I asked again:

“That must be it.”

Also, restrain the Liu family to the fullest extent possible.

“Don’t say I’m giving him advice. Tonight, no grain merchants or local gentry are hosting a banquet at Yuanming Tower for the magistrate—tell Liu Jia’s second son to come himself, but don’t show up at my mother’s dining table, adding extra chopsticks as a nuisance. Wait until the magistrate finishes and the banquet breaks up before appearing.”

“Cast a sword in a cauldron?”

“I don’t know, but I want to see it—rumor says the cauldron holds qi.”

“In pre-Qin times, the cauldron was a sacred object used to suppress the qi of mountains and rivers. Ancient sages collected hundreds of weapons from heaven and forged them into cauldrons—a move for peace. Later, melting cauldrons to forge swords naturally became…”

“Besides, brother, think: where does the ‘cauldron contest’ come from? ‘Cauldron contest,’ ‘cauldron contest’—in the end, it becomes a contest between cauldron and sword, and the methods grow ever more tranquil.”

Liu Ziwen’s expression turned serious, and he sighed:

“...” Yan Bala.

Xie Lingjiang froze, then rose abruptly as if to chase after him:

“Magistrate, how can you say that? Meeting you today is an honor for me and the Liu family. Call me by my name—don’t humiliate yourself so.”

“Liu Zianze is one of them—even the ‘Yuenan’ character in his name is tied to sword cultivation and Qi Refining. Today, every sword cultivator’s head bears a Yuenan sword hanging below the eighth inch…”

But no one ever took it seriously, and everyone thought it was exaggerated praise—after all, who among us didn’t have ancestors who were wealthy? People always pull out their family’s past glory to boast about it… Young men all hate recalling ancestral glory, feeling ashamed that they’re not living up to it—not just individuals, but regions and nations seem to behave the same way.

Xie Lingjiang’s face wore a forced smile, but the magistrate of Nianzhong added apologetically:

I said this far, then changed the subject:

“Once the cauldron-sword is forged, not only will heavenly omens descend, but all other existing cauldron-swords will sense it—they cannot hide, it’s highly unlikely.”

“The current scene at the Liu family’s sword forge by Butterfly Creek pales in comparison to the grand spectacle of the late Sui dynasty, when the entire nation pooled its strength to forge the cauldron-sword beside Butterfly Creek.”

…

Inside the room, Yunmeng Jian listened to Liu Ziwen’s revelations and fell into silent thought; the two remained quiet for a time.

Yunmeng Jian straightened his sleeves, brushed dust off his right shoulder, then his left, and asked calmly:

Laughing, he didn’t even look at the invitation Cheng Huandan had prepared to present—he rose and swept out with his sleeve.

But the magistrate of Nianzhong ignored him, strolled out of the main hall with hands clasped behind his back, and the thin, stooped man followed silently.

“Finally arrived. Are you here to find me at Meilu Garden, or at the county government office?”

“The young man is deeply pained and furious—after that beast returned home, I personally administered a family punishment…”

“How many cauldrons are there?”

“So, if there’s no issue, then you shouldn’t have come.”

“No mistake—the cauldron is the sword, the sword is the cauldron.”

Yunmeng Jian nodded, pretending to understand, and guessed: “Then this must be about the cauldron-sword.”

Cheng Huandan asked, puzzled:

“So Liu Zianze still has a cauldron hidden away, not yet forged into a cauldron-sword?”

“...” Cheng Huandan.

Yunmeng Jian sternly said: “What ‘current dynasty’? It’s the Great Zhou now—don’t speak carelessly, sister. We are all subjects of His Majesty.”

“Big brother, who says a cauldron must be a cauldron, and a sword must be a sword?”

“This is also to apologize for the misunderstanding ahead, and for my younger brother’s disrespectful outburst.” Xie Lingjiang smiled, his tone growing more sincere: “Then, when the time comes, let’s discuss the Digong Dam properly—I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”

“But why melt a cauldron to forge a sword, out of the blue?”

I’ve never met Xie Lingjiang, but I’ve heard of him—he ranks second only to Liu Jia’s second son in status within the Liu family. This younger brother clearly receives far more attention from Liu Jia’s second than the more erratic eighth brother.

I naturally understand some of Master Xie Xun’s positions, and my senior sister, though young, is a bold one indeed.

Yunmeng Jian picked up the food box and stepped out, asking Liu Ashan: “What’s so urgent?”

Seeing Cheng Huandan’s stiff smile, Cheng Huandan comforted:

“I… beg you to instruct me…”

Yunmeng Jian nodded, rolled up his sleeves, and extended his left hand in invitation.

“They’re quick to pay to ransom people, but why not ransom the one exiled to Liaodong?” Ouyang interrupted, his face earnest: “After you administered the family punishment, did your younger brother die?”

“Ah, so that’s the good deed. Why didn’t you say so earlier?… Bala, go pour tea—how are you treating guests, you lot?”

Cheng Huandan pretended not to hear.

“I dare not command—I beg you, I beg you to forgive me.”

“All within Longcheng are my subjects—I am truly your parent-official. These words of flattery from blind fools—I beg you not to take them to heart.”

Xie Lingjiang studied his calm expression and continued:

Xie Lingjiang shook his head softly and said:

I nodded with a sigh:

Yunmeng Jian saw it and let out a long sigh: “Truly, evil lingers for a thousand years.”

This chapter is four thousand characters. Another chapter will come after midnight, but it may be late—I’ll post it as soon as I finish… Finally, shamelessly asking for votes! (pouts)

(End of chapter)