Forging Immortality: The Undying Blacksmith

Chapter 53: The Dragon Crossing the River

Winter’s snows thawed, breathing new life into Shengtian City. Withered branches strained, pushing forth new buds in a raw display of life’s tenacity.

The city-wide hunt for the Star-Plucking Thief had long gone cold, with no useful clues to show for the thousands of silver taels the Prince’s Residence had squandered. In the interim, the imperial capital had become a magnet for martial artists from every corner of the land—a motley flood of fortune-seekers and cutthroats.

Taverns crackled with tension, where a single misplaced word could erupt into a full-blown brawl. But the real prize was the vast territory left vacant by the defeated Nine Lotus Sect. To occupy a single street was to gain the right to collect protection fees—a steady, tangible stream of income. Who wouldn’t want to get rich just by sitting around?

So, even with the chances of finding the Star-Plucking Thief dwindling to nothing, these brutes from the martial world lingered. They were all hoping to carve out a piece of the prosperous capital for themselves. Success meant a life of ease for decades to come.

This influx of ambitious outsiders posed a significant challenge even to the three major martial arts halls, despite their official backing. They had expected to swallow the juicy prize left by the Nine Lotus Sect whole, but now their plans were being severely disrupted by this chaotic free-for-all. The smaller halls under their command were already feeling the pressure, caught in the crossfire of a brewing turf war.

Chiming Street.

A gang of roughnecks in coarse linen crowded into a small wonton shop. Though there were eight of them, they ordered only three bowls. Asking the owner for extra bowls, they carefully portioned out the dumplings, ensuring every man got a share.

“Heh, the food in this capital is really something else. This chili oil’s got a kick!”

“Hoo-whew! Damn shame it’s so expensive, or I’d put away seven or eight bowls myself.”

“Hahaha, Brother Yang, stop draining the boss’s chili oil!”

Among the boisterous men, a young man with a clean, almost gentle face smiled shyly. He downed his share of the crimson, oily broth in one go, carefully licking his lips afterward. It was hard to imagine why such a timid youth would run with a pack of hardened thugs; he stood out like a crane among chickens. The others just laughed good-naturedly, their teasing holding no real malice.

Just then, the owner came over and replaced their depleted jars of chili oil and vinegar with fresh ones.

“Enjoy, gentlemen. It’s just a bit of chili oil, worth nothing at all,” the owner said, forcing a placating smile. He was a keen observer of people. These men were clearly poor, but they were just as clearly not men he could afford to offend. And since they had only ordered three bowls, they probably weren’t planning to dine and dash.

As the owner, a man named Zhang, turned to leave, the leader of the group, a toothpick jutting from his lips, crossed his legs. “Hold on a minute, boss,” he called out lazily.

Boss Zhang flinched, a shiver running down his spine. He turned back, his smile stretched thin. “Yes, guest? Is there anything else?”

The leader chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth, and waved a dismissive hand. “Easy now. I just have a question for you. Who do you pay for protection around here?”

A bead of sweat trickled down Boss Zhang’s temple. “There’s a school on our street,” he stammered, “the Qingshan Martial Arts Hall. All the businesses here pay their monthly dues to them.”

“Is that so? Another martial arts hall…” the man drawled. “And how much is your monthly due?”

“It was two taels of silver,” the owner said, a bitter edge to his voice. “But they recently raised it to three. The official reason is to ‘support’ the Feiyun Martial Arts Hall for their hard work hunting the Star-Plucking Thief. They say it’ll go back to two taels once the thief is caught.”

The man let out a cold, contemptuous laugh. “A small business like yours can’t be making much to begin with, and they’re squeezing you for three taels? What’s left for you at the end of the month?!”

At his words, Boss Zhang’s expression grew even more pained. Life had worn away any fight he might have had, and he didn’t dare complain. Less money in his pocket was better than none at all. He just prayed this whole affair with the thief would blow over soon.

Seeing the owner’s pathetic resignation, the other men grew agitated. One of them slammed his fist on the table.

*Bang!*

“What the hell does chasing some phantom thief have to do with a man trying to run a shop?”

“Exactly! Those martial hall bastards just cooked up an excuse to bleed you dry. What’s it called… using something as a pretext…”

“Seizing on a pretext!”

“That’s it! Seizing on a pretext! Every last one of these martial arts masters is a damn crook.”

The men’s angry denunciations grew louder, their coarse voices carrying far enough for the neighboring shops to hear.

Boss Zhang’s face went pale with terror. “Heroes, please, keep your voices down,” he pleaded. “The old master of the Qingshan Hall is a true expert, and he’s backed by the Feiyun Martial Arts Hall. If they hear you saying such things, there will be trouble…”

The leader just smiled, radiating an unnerving confidence. “Hahaha! Well, you can forget about paying that Qingshan Martial Arts Hall three taels. From now on, your fee is one tael. Paid to us.”

He leaned forward. “Boss, you remember this: we are the Heroes of Liangzhou!”

With that, the man from Liangzhou laid out the coins for the three bowls of wontons in a neat row on the table and rose to his feet.

“Brothers, let’s move out! Time to kick in some doors!”

*Whoosh!*

The other seven men stood as one. From their waists and backs, they produced objects wrapped in thick hemp rope. As they strode out of the shop, they began to unravel the cords, revealing the cold, sharp gleam of deadly weapons.

Old Zhang watched them go, frozen in place, his back soaked through with a cold sweat. Trembling, he snatched the coins from the table and scrambled back into his shop, looking ready to bolt the door for the day.

Chiming Street was about to erupt.

Just then, a lazy voice cut through the tense air.

“Hey, Old Zhang, closing up already? It’s the middle of the day. Get me two bowls of wontons, quick.”

Li Qing strolled up, letting out a massive yawn.

“Good heavens, Master Li, didn’t you hear?” Old Zhang hissed urgently. “How can you think about wontons now? A ‘dragon crossing the river’ just came through looking for trouble! We have to be careful not to get caught in the middle!”

Li Qing couldn’t be bothered. He waved a hand dismissively. “Relax. Whatever trouble they’re starting won’t reach us. Challenges like that happen behind closed doors. The moment they start a real street brawl, the authorities will step in. It’s just business.”

He gestured to the empty tables. “Now, hurry up with those wontons. I’m dead on my feet from the forge.”

“You… ah, fine, fine,” Old Zhang sighed, defeated. He draped his rag back over his shoulder and got back to work.

The Heroes of Liangzhou hadn’t gone far. The shy young man, Yang Xing, suddenly stopped and squinted back toward the shop.

“What is it, Brother Yang?” the leader, Fang Long, asked, noticing his pause.

Yang Xing shook his head. “It’s nothing, Brother Fang. Just… that man who went into the wonton shop. He felt different. Maybe another martial artist.”

Fang Long threw his head back and laughed. “Hahaha, who cares? We’re here for the Qingshan Martial Arts Hall. As long as he stays out of our business, he doesn’t matter.”

“True enough.”

Yang Xing tore his gaze away and hurried to rejoin the group as they marched toward the Qingshan Martial Arts Hall.