Section 063: Swapping the Bow for a Long Spear

Examining the wooden basin carefully, Li Dong noticed that the color of the water inside was extremely peculiar. Its hue was as thick as milk, yet it lacked milk’s pure whiteness; it resembled rice water, but without the same viscosity; it was somewhat like muddy limewater, but even after sitting for so long, it showed no signs of settling.

There was no doubt that Father Qin had added something to the water—an ingredient that could weaken the hardness and toughness of the strange stone. Yet, whatever it was, he clearly didn’t wish to elaborate, and Li Dong did not press further. After all, ancestral skills that put food on the table would hardly be revealed so easily.

Gathering up the fragments he had broken off, Father Qin inspected them and said to Li Dong, “This should be enough material for a weapon.”

Li Dong thought for a moment before demurring, “Let’s forge a bow first. Our third brother has been clamoring for a good weapon for quite some time, but has yet to find one to his liking. He’s the youngest, so of course we should fulfill his wish first.”

Father Qin nodded, placing the fragments into the furnace, and joked to Luo Shixin, “Come on, give the bellows some effort! This is your weapon—if the heat’s not enough and it turns out as fragile as tofu, don’t blame anyone but yourself!”

Overjoyed, Luo Shixin began working the bellows with all his might, the air whistling as he pumped. Standing at the doorway, Li Dong could feel the scorching wave pressing against his face. Yet, both Qin Qiong and his father stood right by the furnace, unwavering as if used to a lifetime of such hardship—it was not an easy life.

Qin Qiong pulled out the mold, sprinkling it with fine, damp sand. He took a finished bow and pressed it hard into the sand, stamping down and even jumping on it a few times to leave a clear impression of a bow in the sand. Then, once the stone had melted, the liquid would be poured into the mold to cool into a new bow.

As Luo Shixin worked the bellows, he suddenly stopped, shot to his feet, and shouted loudly, “Forget it! I don’t want a bow anymore!”

Li Dong, Qin Qiong, and Father Qin all started in surprise, thinking, What’s gotten into this fool now? First he wants it, now he doesn’t?

Luo Shixin spread his arms wide like a great bird about to take flight, shouting, “I don’t want a bow! I want a spear this long!”

The three of them looked at one another, at a loss. Who said this boy was slow-witted? The stone was large and there was more than enough material—using it all for just one bow would be a waste. A spear would require enough material for three bows. By changing his mind, he’d just gained an extra share for himself.

Li Dong nodded emphatically, thinking, An inch longer, an inch stronger. With a long spear in his third brother’s hands, his safety would be all the more assured. He turned to Father Qin and said, “As before, let’s satisfy our third brother’s wish first.”

With this confirmation, Luo Shixin grew excited again, and sat before the furnace, working the bellows so furiously it sounded like a man with a fit of asthma.

Qin Qiong had no choice but to quickly change the mold, discarding the bow mold and taking out a spear to press its form into the fine sand.

All was ready—only the east wind was wanting!

Now, all that remained was to burn the stone into molten liquid and pour it into the mold. Once the long spear took shape, the rest was but minor finishing touches, easily managed.

Blue flames jetted fiercely from the furnace, scorching the stone. The fire blazed with such intensity that the entire forge felt like a giant steamer, roasting everyone inside until the sweat on their faces curled their very hairs.

After a long while, Father Qin told Luo Shixin to slow the bellows, letting the temperature drop a bit. He leaned in to check the stone, then used a long iron rod to gently push aside the melted dross, before having Luo Shixin resume the bellows. This process was repeated three times, before the molten material was finally poured into the mold.

With a hiss and a strange crackle, thick white smoke billowed from the sand mold—perhaps the stone’s heat was even melting some of the sand.

After about the time it takes to smoke a pipe, Father Qin judged that the spear had roughly formed and cooled enough. He instructed Qin Qiong to open the mold.

When it was opened, the group beheld a spear as thick as a duck’s egg, black and cold, its shaft coated in fine sand, resembling a giant loach that had rolled through a sandbank.

Overjoyed, Luo Shixin leapt over from the bellows, reaching out with both hands for the newly forged spear, exclaiming, “This is mine! No one else can have it!”

“Wait!”
“Stop!”

Qin Qiong and Father Qin shouted in unison, urgently trying to halt him. Alas, as in so many moments in life, a single misstep spells disaster for even the greatest of heroes.

Unfortunately, Luo Shixin was quicker than their warnings. He grabbed the spear—but just as swiftly, he let go.

Even before their words faded, Luo Shixin hurled the spear far away, as though bitten by a venomous snake, bellowing loud enough to shake the rafters, “Ouch! The spear bites! It’s burning me!”

The group burst into laughter. Haste makes waste! The spear had only just solidified from its molten state; of course it was still searing hot. Who could he blame but himself for his impatience?

Terror-stricken, Luo Shixin shook his hands and leapt far away, not daring to approach the spear again.

Qin Qiong shook his head with a smile, took two iron tongs, and carried the spear outside to the long water trough. As soon as the spear touched the water, it hissed and steamed, sinking to the bottom, while a fine mist continued to rise from the surface. The heat it retained was evident—no wonder Luo Shixin had been so alarmed.

After a while, when the water became still and no more mist rose, Qin Qiong deemed it safe, fished out the spear, and handed it to Luo Shixin.

Still shaken, Luo Shixin backed away, waving his hands, unwilling to touch it. “No way! It bites!”

Qin Qiong laughed, “It’s fine now. See? I’m holding it in my hand.”

Only then did Luo Shixin cautiously approach, gingerly reaching out to touch it before recoiling. After several tries, reassured that it was no longer hot, he finally dared to pick it up, stroking it for a while before grasping it firmly.

The spear was nearly eighteen feet long, its shaft covered in fine sand. Luo Shixin brushed his hand over it, sending sand cascading to the ground.

Qin Qiong pointed to a small mound nearby and said, “Take the spear over there and thrust it into the sand pile a hundred times or so. That’ll smooth the shaft. If you’re not satisfied, I’ll polish it further for you until you’re completely happy.”

Seeing Luo Shixin with a weapon to his liking, Li Dong was delighted and was just about to thank Father Qin when he noticed something amiss in the old man’s expression.

His eyes were clouded with disappointment, his brows furrowed tight, lips pressed into a thin line, as if lost in deep thought.

After Luo Shixin cast the spear aside, Father Qin realized it wasn’t as pure as he had hoped, and naturally felt dissatisfied. The furnace had burned hot enough and the dross had been removed three times, yet it was clear the process still lacked a final touch. The spear had not achieved the ideal balance of hardness and flexibility; from the sound it made hitting the ground, it could be refined further.

Father Qin resolved then and there: he would never forge such a weapon for Li Dong. He must find a way to overcome this last hurdle, refine the material to the highest grade, and forge a weapon unmatched in the world.

...

Today I accompanied my family for an operation, shuttling between two hospitals before it was done. My legs are sore from all the running. The update is a little late—thank you all for your patience. My apologies!