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The sun stood high in the sky, its rays pouring down over the City of Metals.
From atop a mountain overlooking the city, you could catch a particular gleam shimmering through the streets.
The city was built in a circular shape, a chain of great mountains separating it from the Great Ming Dou Forest.
People bustled through every street. At this hour, the place was alive with activity.
The city itself was functionally divided into three parts.
Near the mountains were the zones controlled by groups under the Star Luo Empire's protection—mining the resources they found there.
Then came the marketplace, the most crowded area of all.
And finally, the residential district, where the city's people lived.
The whole city looked vibrant. Yet if you paid close attention, there was tension simmering underneath.
At the heart of the city stood an inn—busy, well-situated, and thriving with business.
From above, you could see it sat perfectly at the center of everything.
Numerous wooden tables filled both the interior and the space outside, placed generously to host a constant stream of guests.
Inside, tucked into a corner near the wall, sat Feng Yanlou and Lin Zhechen at a table.
From their posture, it looked like they were talking, though not a sound could be heard.
Still, only a few curious glances were sent their way.
It was common to use soul power to block conversations from being overheard, and this table wasn't the only one shrouded in silence.
Lin Zhechen took a sip of milk and said with a frown, "Why does it feel like everyone here's on edge, old man?"
The man tapped his fingers lightly on the table, a hint of surprise in his tone. "Oh, so you noticed?"
"Hmm."
Feng Yanlou looked completely relaxed. "It's normal. The Ming Dou Mountains are a rich source of metals. This city? It's their trade capital."
Then he grew a little more serious. "There's a kind of war going on here too. Sure, it's technically under Star Luo control, but the Sun-Moon Empire's got its hands in things too. So when you're walking around, Xiao Chen, be careful who you talk to…or who you deal with."
The boy shifted in his seat, clearly intrigued. "Sounds interesting." Then, with a curious tone, "So why do you live near a place like this?"
The man's thick eyebrows rose. "Isn't it obvious? I'm a blacksmith. And this city? It's a paradise for blacksmiths and Soul Tool engineers."
"Blacksmithing? I know Soul Tools need metal to be made, but… I didn't think being a blacksmith was a top-tier job among spirit professionals."
The old man wiped his hands with a cloth. "It's not."
"Then why become a blacksmith, Grandpa?"
For a moment, silence settled between them. For Feng Yanlou, it was like his whole life flashed before his eyes. Sorrow, regret, excitement, and a flicker of hope danced in his gaze.
Seeing that look, Lin Zhechen was reminded of his old world.
He thought sadly, I must've worn that same face once.
The old man's voice was soft, like he was sharing a sacred secret. "To bring honor back to the craft."
Zhechen furrowed his brow. "And how do you plan on doing that, Grandpa?"
"By creating special metals."
A gleam of excitement flickered in Feng Yanlou's grin as he caught the sea of questions swimming in the boy's eyes.
"You see all these people around us?"
He looked around and confirmed it. The inn was packed with people. Zhechen nodded.
"Half of them are blacksmiths. Damn near half the city is. Know why there are so many, even though, like you said, it's not a prestigious job?"
The boy shrugged.
"Potential, kid. It's something we can see. Something people who've never even felt molten metal can't. We know…we know…we can be more than what we are."
A sad smile pulled at his lips.
"And out of all these people, no one's closer to success than me."
And no one's farther from it, he added in silence.
He cleared his throat and told the boy, "Anyway, you don't have to worry about that. Blacksmithing's not for you."
He lifted his drink and took a sip.
After a pause, Zhechen whispered, "I want to learn."
The drink caught in the old man's throat. He cleared it with a burst of soul power.
His voice rasped slightly, "What did you just say?"
"I said I want to learn, old man."
The chair slid slightly as Feng Yanlou sat up straighter, his broad frame shifting. His sharp gaze landed firmly on Lin Zhechen. He looked so serious that even more curious glances turned their way.
"Why?"
Zhechen exhaled through his nose. "My Martial Soul's spiritual. I doubt it has much destructive power."
He paused. "It's still early to tell, but if I'm right, I want to have another path."
The old man leaned over the table. "Then you should become a Soul Engineer."
"I plan to."
Feng Yanlou's tone turned sharp. "Xiao Chen, this isn't a game. Everyone's energy is limited. How do you expect to master three paths? Training as a Spirit Master, a Soul Engineer, and a blacksmith?"
He glanced over the boy's thin frame. "And for you? It's going to be even harder. If I'm being honest, you might only have talent in making Soul Tools."
He reached over and tested the boy's arm, giving a faint smile. "And definitely not in using them."
Though his words might've sounded harsh, he only wanted to ground the boy in reality.
Still, the boy didn't back down. If anything, he seemed even more determined.
"Please, Grandpa. You have to teach me."
The old man stared into his grandson's serious eyes, sighed, and scratched his beard.
"You're playing with fire, boy."
Zhechen's lips curled into a grin. "Well, isn't that what blacksmiths do?"
The old man's booming laugh rang out. Even with their soundproof barrier, his joy was visible to anyone looking.
When the laughter died down, he took another sip. "Still don't get why you need blacksmithing. Soul Engineering should be enough."
The boy didn't flinch. "Because Soul Tools are made of metal. I want to make the perfect Soul Tool…for myself."
The old man ruffled his hair.
"It's not as simple as you think. Ah, looks like you'll have to learn that the hard way."
He glanced over the boy's frail body and barely held back a laugh. "Oh, you're going to be very disappointed in your blacksmithing talent, kid."
Zhechen's already-messy hair looked even more disheveled now.
His eyes were hidden beneath the strands.
But the smile on his lips was clear as day.
Disappointed? You'll see…I'm not just anyone, old man.
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