Morning in Green River Town wasn't peaceful—it was just quieter than the chaos it tried to hide. The alleys were damp with last night's dew, and the faint sounds of carts creaking and children coughing behind thin walls filled the air. In this part of town, even the birds knew not to sing too loudly.
Xi Chen stood in front of the forge, his hands blackened from soot, his eyes sharper than any blade he could craft.
He was early today. Earlier than usual. He'd barely slept. Dreams had come—again. Not nightmares exactly, but memories, fragments of his past life as the gang leader in Guangzhou. A pistol in his hand, blood on the floor, the cold look in his brother's eyes as everything burned around them. And then—nothing. Death had come like the snap of a thread.
He had died alone.
Now he lived again—but not for himself. This second chance wasn't a gift. It was a burden he chose to carry. For Xi Bing. For Xi Xuan.
Inside, Xi Bing stirred awake, groaning as he sat up. His limbs were still sore from yesterday's drills, and his face was drawn with sleep.
He found his brother at the forge, working a fresh slab of iron.
"Brother, you're up early."
Xi Chen didn't look away from his work. The hammer rang out steadily.
"Sleep is a luxury we can't always afford."
Xi Bing rubbed his neck. "I dreamt I punched through a wall."
Xi Chen smirked faintly. "Keep training, and maybe you will."
They shared a moment of quiet laughter. Then Xi Bing's face grew more serious.
"Do you think... Do you think they'll come again? The Guo Clan?"
Xi Chen paused mid-swing. He placed the hammer down and looked his brother in the eye.
"They will. Maybe not today. Maybe not next week. But they will."
Xi Bing swallowed hard. "Then we'll fight them, right?"
Xi Chen nodded slowly. "We will—but only when we're ready. Not before."
He turned back to the forge and reignited the flames. The glow reflected in his eyes—not just the fire from the forge, but something deeper. A quiet fury, tempered by discipline.
Later that morning, Xi Chen left the boys at home and made his way through the outer edges of the market, his hood drawn low over his brow. He wasn't here to sell or buy—but to see.
He moved through the crowd like smoke through cracks, unnoticed but observant.
Near a butcher's stall, he spotted three Guo Clan thugs standing near a supply wagon. Not the same men from last time—these were younger, with short swords at their waists and arrogance in their posture. One of them wore a thin leather vest marked with the Guo insignia: a boar's tusk through a silver coin.
"Anything yet?" one muttered.
"Not a trace. Whoever hurt Zhang Fei vanished."
"Boss Guo's getting restless. Word is, if he doesn't find the guy soon, he'll send someone from the inner court."
Xi Chen lingered long enough to hear that, then disappeared down an alley.
He had underestimated them. They weren't just offended. They were hunting.
Back at the forge, Xi Xuan had taken over sweeping the yard. The boy was small, but he worked with focused energy. His shoulders were too thin for his age, and he still limped slightly from a twisted ankle the week before, but he never complained.
When Xi Chen returned, he handed Xi Xuan a paper bag filled with roasted chestnuts.
"For your hard work."
Xi Xuan lit up, his face flushed with excitement. "Thank you, big brother!"
Xi Chen sat down beside him on the porch. "Tell me what you've been practicing."
"I've been holding the horse stance every morning for ten minutes!" Xi Xuan said proudly, chomping on a chestnut.
Xi Chen raised an eyebrow. "Ten minutes? Without shaking?"
"Well... I shook a little."
Xi Chen chuckled. "That's fine. Shaking means your body's trying to grow."
He ruffled the boy's hair and leaned back against the wooden pillar. The sky above was pale blue, and the air smelled faintly of soot and iron.
A fragile peace—but one he was learning to cherish.
That evening, Xi Chen returned to his private training. After the boys were asleep, he lit the forge, stripped to the waist, and stood before the glowing coals.
The Scarlet Furnace Body pulsed within him like a second heartbeat. His skin flushed again, veins swelling beneath the surface, muscles tightening.
He entered the Muscle Tempering Visualization form again, this time pushing further.
Each motion strained his tendons and joints. Each breath burned.
This was more than training—it was forging.
His flesh was the iron. The pain, the hammer.
The heat rose higher. Sweat poured down his face. His body turned a deeper red, as if fire ran through his veins.
[Progress: 35%]
A sharp pain burst through his chest—his heart pounded like a war drum, threatening to break free of his ribs.
He dropped to his knees, gasping.
But he didn't scream.
Instead, he gritted his teeth, planted his hands on the floor, and forced himself back to his feet.
This pain wasn't new.
He'd felt it when a knife went through his shoulder back in Guangzhou.
He'd felt it when he saw his brothers crying beside their parents' grave.
And he would feel it again and again—until he carved out a place in this world where they could be safe.
The next morning brought something new.
A knock at the door.
Not the rough pounding of hired thugs. This was... polite. Almost uncertain.
Xi Chen opened it cautiously, a hammer tucked just behind the frame.
Standing outside was a man in his late forties, wearing a faded robe and a nervous smile.
"You must be Xi Chen," the man said. "My name is Lin Bo. I run the farmers' guild north of the stream. We... we heard about your forge."
Xi Chen didn't answer right away.
Lin Bo held up his hands. "I'm not with the clans. I'm just a man who needs good tools—and someone who can be trusted."
Behind him stood two young men and a cart full of broken tools—plow heads, sickles, axe handles splintered and rusted.
"My members can't afford the clan blacksmiths anymore," Lin Bo said. "They charge us double for half the quality. We were hoping you might take us on. Quietly."
Xi Chen looked at the cart, then at the man.
He didn't smile—but he nodded.
"Leave them. Come back in three days."
Lin Bo bowed gratefully. "You're doing a good thing."
As he turned to leave, Xi Chen called out, "Tell no one."
Lin Bo looked back. "Of course."
When the cart rolled away, Xi Chen turned to the broken tools and exhaled slowly.
A small ripple.
But even a ripple could become a wave.