Forging Immortality: The Undying Blacksmith

Chapter 4: Horse Bandits

After Yan San left, Li Qing resumed his practice in the courtyard, dedicating the next several hours to the foundational stance work of the Gu Xuan Hammer Technique.

Only when his body was screaming with exhaustion, his eyelids feeling like lead weights, did he finally return to his room to collapse.

He was jolted awake by a sharp rap on the door. He never dared to sleep too deeply; after just three knocks, his eyes snapped open.

Opening the courtyard gate, he found Yan San standing there with a pile of iron ingots and a stone slab etched with intricate, mysterious patterns.

“Heh heh, Master Li,” Yan San said with a greasy grin. “The Yan family has accepted your terms. They’re willing to let you study one of their manuals now. Once the farm tools are delivered, you’ll get the other two!”

Clearly, the Yan family had agreed without much fuss, and Yan San had skimmed a tidy profit for himself.

From the moment Li Qing laid eyes on the stone slab, he found it difficult to look away from the patterns carved into its surface.

“And what technique might this be?” Li Qing asked, his voice a placid mask as he finally tore his eyes from the stone.

“The Yan family steward says this is the Qingluo Leg Technique,” Yan San explained, puffing out his chest. “It was one of the signature skills of the old Qingluo Martial Arts School in the city. This very slab was personally inscribed by their master!” He handed the heavy slab to Li Qing, adding, “Of course, the Yan family will be taking this back when you’re done.”

Taking the weighty slab, Li Qing examined it again. It possessed an undeniable, inexplicable resonance; he could feel a subtle current of energy flowing within its lines. It was no fake.

“Very well. I’ll accept the slab,” Li Qing said with a calm nod. “I’m rather tired today. You should head back. Come for the cutting blades in seven days.”

“You got it, Master Li! I’ll be back in seven days!” Yan San didn’t linger. As he left, he even pulled the courtyard gate shut for Li Qing.

*Bang!*

The moment the gate closed, Yan San’s fawning expression vanished, replaced by a sneer of utter contempt. Once he was a safe distance away, he muttered, “What an idiot. In times like these, he turns down Black Wheat Mushrooms to practice this useless garbage. Does he really think he can make a name for himself with that?”

Inside the courtyard, Li Qing’s sharp hearing caught every word of the mockery.

He didn’t care in the slightest. In fact, he almost laughed.

Practicing this kind of martial art was indeed a slow grind with few immediate results, but time was the one thing he had in abundance.

He would grow in the shadows. And when his power was absolute, he would crush anyone who stood in his way.

*It doesn’t matter,* he thought, a cold vow forming in his heart. *Even with my poor aptitude, ten years of practice will surely yield something. And if that’s not enough… I’ll just forge more weapons.*

Utterly spent, Li Qing returned to his room and was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

He awoke with practiced precision. His years as a blacksmith’s apprentice in the army had trained him to keep a clock in his mind. He never overslept.

Leaving the stone slab with the Qingluo Leg Technique in the Extreme Night World, he returned to his tent in the main world, carrying a portion of the iron ingots and the *Gu Xuan Hammer Technique* manual.

Despite having slept for a cumulative ten hours, the transition back drained him, leaving him panting for breath. He swung his legs out of bed, and a deep, burning ache shot through his entire body. His thighs, in particular, screamed in protest, trembling so violently he could barely stand.

The aftershocks of stance training.

But through the pain, Li Qing felt a genuine, tangible increase in his stamina. As his feet touched the floor, he felt a profound sense of stability, as if he were rooted to the very earth—a direct result of the stance’s principles of channeling and generating force.

Having gone nearly a full day without food, his stomach was now staging a violent protest.

“Sigh. If it weren’t for the triple time-flow and the brutal environment, I’d be tempted to stay in the Extreme Night World forever.”

He had, of course, considered using it as a perfect hideout. When enemies attacked, he could just slip away into another dimension, leaving the world’s troubles behind.

But there was a critical flaw in that plan: you always returned to the exact spot you left from.

The borderland where the Wuli Army was stationed was a vital stronghold, guarding a nearby iron mine. It had to be manned at all times. If the enemy overran the camp while he was gone, his return would be a disaster. He’d likely be captured as a spy and tortured for information.

But the most pressing issue was food. He had zero confidence he could find enough to sustain the massive appetite that came with serious martial arts training in the barren Extreme Night World.

His stomach growling, Li Qing stepped out of his tent into the faint light of dawn.

Carrying his two food basins, he hurried to the kitchens. To his surprise, the man on duty was once again the stout cook, Wu Chong.

Compared to the previous night, however, Wu Chong’s face was etched with worry.

“What’s wrong, Fatty Wu?” Li Qing asked.

His eyes then fell upon a small mountain of white steamed buns on the stove, and they practically glowed green. He was so starved he felt he could devour twenty of them without pausing.

“The master who taught me to cook… he went to check on the grain transport team yesterday afternoon,” Wu Chong blurted out, unable to keep it in. “He was supposed to be back last night, but he’s still not here!”

Li Qing scanned the area. No one else was awake yet. He snatched two buns and began stuffing them into his mouth, mumbling through a full mouth, “Anyone from the infirmary come for food this morning?”

Wu Chong shook his head, then stared at Li Qing in astonishment. “Gods above, were you raised by wolves? How can you be this hungry? I gave you a mountain of food just last night!”

Li Qing obviously couldn’t tell him he’d spent an entire day practicing stances in another world. He simply filled his two basins to the brim, gave Wu Chong a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and hurried out of the kitchen.

The border was about to descend into chaos.

If his guess was right, the grain transport team had been ambushed by horse bandits.

The infirmary had sent someone for food last night, but not this morning. That meant the heavily wounded soldiers who’d returned yesterday were likely dead. He was actually surprised they had lasted so long; they must have been martial artists themselves. An ordinary man would have died on the spot from such injuries.

The border bandits were nomads from the eastern grasslands, a territory that bordered both Feng Country and the rival Liang Country.

It was only midsummer, still a long way from the harsh winter when raiding became a necessity. For them to be plundering supplies and killing soldiers so brazenly was highly unusual. This was an act of open provocation, practically begging Feng Country to send an army to annihilate them.

But would the bandits be so suicidal? Unlikely. They weren’t fools. There was no benefit in earning the full wrath of Feng Country.

Unless… unless they were colluding with Liang Country.

His modern, analytical mind raced through the possibilities. But he was sure of one thing: if he could figure this out, the Wuli Army’s high command certainly could as well.

What happened next would depend on the imperial court’s response.

He sighed. “All I want is a quiet place to forge and grow stronger. Why is that so damn difficult?