Forging Immortality: The Undying Blacksmith

Chapter 70: The Jianghu of Qingzhou

The Feng Guard commanders’ plans were doomed from the start. The very Master Li they intended to visit had already departed in a carriage, his young tiger in tow, on a journey of his own.

After the sparring match, Qian Hong could no longer contain her impatience. She urged Zhao Yuan to lead them to Master Li at once.

Zhao Yuan saw no reason to refuse. The three commanders were impeccably polite, not intending to march straight to the smithy. Instead, they had him go first to announce their visit, a gesture of respect. This way, if Master Li wished not to see them, Zhao Yuan could relay his wishes and avoid making a poor impression.

And so, the four of them, disguised in plain clothes, hurried toward Chiming Street.

Zhao Yuan’s hulking frame, however, was impossible to truly conceal. No amount of disguise could hide his sheer size, and this fact did not escape Yang Xing’s notice. His refined senses, honed by internal martial arts, told him with certainty that the three individuals accompanying Zhao Yuan were none other than the three great commanders of the Feng Guard.

*The way to Chiming Street…* Yang Xing stroked his chin, his mind racing. *It seems the blade Zhao Yuan carries is even more precious than I imagined. Are they seeking out the smith who forged it?*

There was only one blacksmith on Chiming Street: Li Qing, the reclusive Outer Force expert who had forged his own sword.

Could it be? That blacksmith, a man who had merely cultivated Outer Force, possessed the skill to forge a divine weapon?

*Thump. Thump. Thump.*

The thought made Yang Xing’s heart hammer in his chest. He couldn’t be certain, of course, but it was a strong possibility. A very strong one.

*If this is true, I have to warn Big Brother and the others immediately. We must not, under any circumstances, antagonize this Master Li!*

Muttering under his breath, Yang Xing made his decision. He changed direction and broke into a run, speeding toward Chiming Street.

***

*CRACK-BOOM!*

Thunder rattled the heavens as the downpour continued unabated. The rain had been falling for what felt like an eternity, shrouding the entire imperial capital in a thick curtain of water.

On Chiming Street, Zhao Yuan and the three commanders arrived to find nothing.

Qian Hong stared at the tightly shut doors of the smithy. Her hand, gripping her oil-paper umbrella, clenched so hard her knuckles turned white.

He was gone.

Beside her, the old drunkard, Guo Zhentong, stroked his beard. “Hmm, it seems he truly is a master in seclusion, untempted by worldly fame and fortune. This humble smithy speaks volumes.”

Zheng Shu, the man in white, offered a refined smile. With one hand holding his umbrella and the other clasped behind his back, he added his praise. “Such an attitude is the mark of a true peerless master. If not for the appearance of the Jingji Blade, who could ever imagine that a smith of such sublime skill was hidden away in a shop like this?”

Qian Hong was in no mood for such philosophical musings. All she wanted was a peerless divine weapon to call her own.

She walked over to the wonton stall next door. “Shopkeeper,” she asked, “do you know where the blacksmith has gone?”

Old Zhang looked up from the dough he was kneading. He regarded her for a moment before answering thoughtfully, “Master Li? I believe he left on a long journey for some business. I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”

Qian Hong fell silent, quickly suppressing the wave of disappointment. At least the smithy was still here. Master Li would return eventually. No matter what, the hope of reforging her Qinghong Sword into a peerless weapon was now greater than ever. All she had to do was wait for him.

*What’s a little more time? I’ve already waited this long.*

With that thought, she turned and departed from Chiming Street. Zheng Shu and Guo Zhentong exchanged a helpless glance, shook their heads, and followed suit.

***

After the Feng Guard commanders had left, at the other end of the street, the former grounds of the Qingshan Martial Arts Hall now served as the stronghold for the heroes of Liangzhou.

“What? You’re saying that Li Qing is capable of *that*?” Boss Fang’s eyes widened in disbelief.

The ability to forge a peerless divine weapon was no laughing matter. A suitable weapon could elevate a martial artist’s power immensely. With one in hand, a warrior would be nearly unrivaled among their peers.

Take the Nine Lotus Sect, for example. Why had the sect thrived for so long? It was because each generation produced Grandmaster-level experts, and their divine weapons were passed down through the ages. Imagine a peerless Grandmaster wielding such a weapon. They might not be invincible, but they would be incredibly difficult to kill.

“It’s highly likely,” Yang Xing said, his tone grave. “We must guard this secret with our lives and do everything we can to get on good terms with Master Li.”

Boss Fang’s expression grew solemn. He nodded. “Don’t worry, Brother Yang. Before Master Li left, he asked me to keep an eye on his shop. We’ve always maintained a decent relationship.”

As he spoke, Boss Fang couldn’t help but drift into a daydream. How wonderful would it be if, one day, Master Li was struck by inspiration and decided to forge a peerless weapon for him?

Everyone grew up on the legends of the Jianghu—the demonic Red Lotus blade, the Xuanwu Spear… names that stirred the soul.

With this thought, Fang Long steeled his resolve. He had to win Master Li’s favor, no matter the cost.

***

At that very moment, Li Qing, traveling north by carriage, was blissfully unaware that his departure from Sheng Tian had already set so many minds racing.

His destination was Qingzhou. Compared to the other prefectures of Feng Country, it was a remote and unforgiving land. It was a place that lived up to the old saying: harsh lands breed hard people. Though bleak and cold, Qingzhou fostered a fierce martial culture, and many legends of both heroic wanderers and brutal bandits originated there.

The journey north from Sheng Tian was long, passing through several cities. Before setting out, Li Qing had gathered what information he could on the region.

“Claims to be the ‘First Sword of Qingzhou’?” Li Qing mused, reading a report on the local martial world. “This swordsman, Sun Qi, has some nerve.”

The report detailed the notable experts and powerful factions of the region. However, a note at the very end made the corner of his mouth twitch.

It read: *The Qingzhou martial world is teeming with talent. The roster of top experts is in constant flux. Information is subject to change. Consult the latest reports.*

Li Qing instantly grasped the unspoken message.

Qingzhou was a chaotic mess, swarming with martial artists. You might defeat the ‘First Sword’ today, only to be challenged and dethroned tomorrow before the seat was even warm. Of course, anyone who reached the top of their field had to possess genuine skill; it was unlikely they would be toppled the very next day.

This chaos stemmed from the region’s crushing poverty. Trying to build a legitimate business was nearly impossible. The moment you scraped together a bit of wealth, you were likely to be targeted by bandits.

In Qingzhou, carving out a reputation in the Jianghu was the quickest path to wealth. That was why everyone coveted titles like “Qingzhou’s First Sword” or “Qingzhou’s First Blade.” These weren’t empty titles; they were keys to tangible power and profit.

Fame and fortune—the name always came before the prize. Once you made a name for yourself in Qingzhou, you’d never lack for opportunities to make money.

“So, the Qingzhou Jianghu is more interesting than I thought.”

A flicker of anticipation stirred within Li Qing. This version of the Jianghu—raw and brutal—was much closer to his own understanding of it.

Forget courtesy and connections. Out there, it was all about blood and steel.