The third day arrived with a cold dawn and my entire family gathered at the forge.
I sat on a cushioned chair that Liu Ruyan had positioned near the observation area—close enough to see everything but far enough to avoid the worst of the heat. My body had paid the price for the past three days of activity. Every muscle ached, my head pounded with a dull persistence, and I could feel a tremor in my hands that suggested I'd pushed too far, too fast.
But today would determine whether any of it had been worth it.
Father stood near the forge entrance, his arms crossed and expression unreadable. He'd said nothing when he arrived, merely nodded to Master Han and taken his position. Mother stood beside him, her gentle face lined with worry—though whether for the clan's future or my deteriorating health, I couldn't say.
Tie Liefeng, my eldest brother, leaned against a support beam with the casual confidence of someone who expected this to fail but was willing to be surprised. I'd barely spoken to him since awakening in this world. He inhabited a realm of martial prowess and physical strength that seemed as foreign to me as this world once had.
Huiyue stood closest to Master Han, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She'd been present for portions of the modifications over the past two days, watching silently as the old smith and his apprentices reshaped the bellows mounting and constructed clay channels for airflow. Her expression gave away nothing, but her presence spoke volumes—she was taking this seriously enough to witness personally.
Only Wenxuan looked openly nervous, shifting his weight from foot to foot and glancing repeatedly at me as if seeking reassurance I wasn't sure I could provide.
Master Han stood at his forge with quiet dignity, his three apprentices positioned around him. The modifications we'd designed were complete—the bellows repositioned, the clay channels in place to guide airflow, borax prepared in ceramic bowls for flux application. Everything looked exactly as it should.
Theory and practice were about to meet.
"Young Master Hanxing," Master Han said formally, addressing me directly for the first time in front of the family. "This one has prepared as you suggested. The forge has been modified. The materials are ready. With the family's permission, we will now test whether your theories hold merit."
Father's gaze shifted to me, and I saw surprise there—perhaps at Master Han's respectful tone, or perhaps at the implication that I had been involved in whatever was about to happen.
"Please proceed, Master Han," I said, keeping my voice as steady as possible despite my exhaustion. "The family is eager to see your craftsmanship."
It was a deliberate choice of words—emphasizing that this was his work, not mine. I might have provided theory, but he would demonstrate the practice. And if it succeeded, he would receive the credit he deserved.
Master Han nodded appreciatively, understanding the gift I'd given him, then turned to his forge. One of the apprentices began pumping the bellows with steady rhythm, and I watched the fire respond.
The difference was immediately visible to anyone who knew what to look for. Where before the flames had danced chaotically, now they rose with surprising evenness. The heat built quickly but consistently, without the sudden surges and drops that had characterized the old configuration.
"The flame is different," Mother observed quietly. "More... controlled?"
"The airflow modification," Wenxuan said, stepping forward slightly. He'd become confident enough to speak up in family gatherings now. "Young Master Hanxing observed that turbulent air created inconsistent heat. The clay channels smooth the flow, creating more even combustion."
Father's eyes narrowed thoughtfully but he said nothing, watching as Master Han selected a bar of iron stock. The smith held it up for the family to see—good quality metal, nothing special, exactly the grade they normally worked with.
Then, under everyone's watchful gaze, he took a brush and carefully applied a thin coating of borax to the metal's surface.
"This is flux," Master Han explained, his voice taking on the tone of a teacher. "Young Master Hanxing suggested it to prevent oxidation during heating. This one was skeptical, but preliminary tests showed remarkable results."
He placed the coated bar into the forge. As the metal heated from black to red to orange, we all watched for the formation of fire scale—the oxidation that normally covered heating metal like a crusty black skin.
It didn't appear.
Instead, the borax melted into a thin glassy coating that protected the iron's surface. When Master Han withdrew the bar at optimal temperature, the metal gleamed clean and ready for working.
"Remarkable," Father said, his voice carrying genuine surprise. "No scale at all."
"Less material waste," Huiyue added, her merchant's mind immediately calculating implications. "Cleaner metal means stronger finished product."
Master Han placed the glowing bar on his anvil and began to work. His hammer rose and fell with the practiced rhythm of decades, but even I could see the difference. The metal responded more consistently, spreading and shaping with greater predictability. No scale fragments to hammer in or flake off. Just clean, hot iron transforming under skilled hands.
The old smith worked in focused silence, his apprentices moving around him with practiced coordination—adding coal to maintain temperature, preparing water for quenching, keeping tools ready. The forge sang with purpose.
After perhaps twenty minutes, Master Han held up the rough blade shape for inspection. It would need grinding, sharpening, and finishing, but already its quality was evident. The surface was cleaner, the form more consistent, the entire piece more uniform than anything I'd seen produced in this forge before.
"This is preliminary work only," Master Han said, addressing Father directly. "But already this one can see the improvement. The metal is cleaner, more responsive. The forge maintains better heat consistency. With proper finishing, this blade would be significantly superior to our normal production."
"How significantly?" Father asked.
Master Han considered carefully. "Perhaps twenty to thirty percent improvement in edge retention, flexibility, and overall durability. Enough that experienced warriors would notice the difference immediately."
"Enough to command premium prices," Huiyue said. It wasn't a question.
"If we can produce consistently at this quality, yes. The Northern Wasteland Region has few smiths capable of such work. We could position ourselves as specialists in superior weapons."
Father was quiet for a long moment, his gaze shifting between the blade, Master Han, and finally settling on me. "Hanxing. You suggested these modifications?"
"I observed inefficiencies and proposed solutions based on principles of heat and material behavior," I said carefully. "But Master Han implemented them. Without his skill and willingness to experiment, theory would have remained only theory."
"Where did you learn such principles?"
It was the question I'd been dreading and expecting in equal measure. The entire family was watching now, waiting for my answer.
"During my illness, I've had years to think. To read everything in our library, including old texts that mentioned such techniques. And to wonder why we do things certain ways. When your body confines you to bed, your mind seeks other occupations. I began noticing patterns—seeing how heat and air and materials interact. Whether my observations have value..." I gestured toward the blade in Master Han's hands. "Let the results speak."
It was the same explanation I'd given Huiyue, and it was wearing thin. But Father seemed to accept it, or at least chose not to press further in this moment.
"Master Han, how quickly could you produce finished blades of this quality?"
The old smith considered. "With the forge modifications complete and stable, this one could produce perhaps three superior blades per week while training the apprentices. Within a month, we could scale to five or six per week consistently."
"That's not fast enough," Huiyue said bluntly. "The Blood Serpent Gang arrives in four days. We need immediate revenue, not gradual improvements."
"Then we focus on quality over quantity," I said, my voice sounding weaker than I intended. The extended sitting and concentration were taking their toll. "Three exceptional pieces in four days. Custom work, commissioned pieces. Sold to buyers who value superior craftsmanship enough to pay immediately and generously."
"And where do we find such buyers on four days' notice?" Liefeng asked, speaking up for the first time. His tone wasn't hostile, just pragmatic.
"Elder Sister knows," I said, looking at Huiyue. "You've been managing our trading relationships for years. You know which merchants have wealthy clients. Which warriors seek superior weapons. Which buyers would pay premium prices for demonstrable quality."
Huiyue's expression remained neutral, but I saw her mind working through possibilities. "There are perhaps three buyers in Frostfang Town who might pay what we'd need. But they're not fools—they'd want to test any weapon thoroughly before committing to premium prices."
"Then we let them test," I said. "Let them strike whatever targets they wish, fight with whatever weapons they currently use for comparison. Confidence in quality isn't arrogance if the quality is real."
Father looked between us, processing this rapid exchange. "You're proposing we make three exceptional weapons in four days, take them to Frostfang Town, convince skeptical buyers to test them, and somehow generate enough revenue to satisfy the Blood Serpent Gang's demands?"
"Yes," I said simply.
"That's insane."
"It's desperate," I corrected. "But desperation and insanity aren't the same thing. We have demonstrable improvements in forge capability. We have Master Han's skill. We have Elder Sister's knowledge of the market. And we have four days. That's more resources than we had yesterday."
Mother stepped forward then, her gentle voice cutting through the tension. "Hanxing, you look exhausted. Whatever you've been doing these past days, it's taking a heavy toll on your health."
She was right. I could feel my consciousness starting to blur at the edges, my body demanding rest that I couldn't afford yet.
"I'll rest after the Blood Serpent Gang leaves," I said. "One way or another."
"And if you damage yourself permanently in the process?" she asked softly. "If you survive the gang but not the effort of fighting them?"
It was a fair question. The Memory Treasure Vault's integration had reached 78%, but each percentage point seemed to come at increasing physical cost. My searches were more efficient now, but my body was weakening faster than I'd anticipated.
"Then at least I'll have been useful for once," I said, and immediately regretted the bitterness in my tone.
Mother's expression crumpled slightly, and Father's jaw tightened. Even Liefeng looked uncomfortable. I'd forgotten that Tie Hanxing's self-perception as a burden had wounded this family for years.
"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "That came out wrong. I meant—"
"We know what you meant," Father interrupted, his voice rough. "And you're wrong. You've never been a burden, Hanxing. You've been our son, our brother. Loved regardless of your health or capabilities."
The words hit harder than expected. In my old life, my value had always been transactional—what I could produce, what I could contribute. The idea that I might be valued simply for existing was... foreign.
Liu Ruyan's hand touched my shoulder gently, steadying me as I swayed slightly in the chair.
"少主 needs rest," she said firmly. "The demonstration is complete. The family has seen the improvements. Continuing to push will only harm 少主's health."
"She's right," Wenxuan agreed, moving to my other side. "Hanxing, you've done what you set out to do. Let us handle the next steps."
"But—"
"But nothing," Huiyue said, surprising everyone by supporting them. "You've proven the concept. Now it's my role to execute the business strategy, Master Han's to produce the weapons, and Father's to manage the overall clan response. Your role is to not die from stubbornness."
Despite everything, I found myself smiling weakly. "Is that an order, Elder Sister?"
"Yes. Now go rest before you collapse and we have to carry you."
Father stepped forward then, and for a moment I thought he would rebuke Huiyue for her bluntness. Instead, he looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read—pride mixed with concern, gratitude mixed with guilt.
"Son," he said quietly, "you've given us hope when we had none. That's worth more than all the silver in the Blood Serpent Gang's coffers. But your mother is right—this effort is costing you. Whatever happens in four days, I want you to know that this family values you. Not for what you can do, but for who you are."
My throat tightened unexpectedly. I'd been operating in strategic mode for so long, treating everything as problems to solve and variables to optimize, that I'd forgotten these were people. My people, in a way my old life had never provided.
"Thank you, Father," I managed.
Wenxuan and Liu Ruyan helped me stand—a process that revealed just how weak I'd become. My legs barely supported my weight, and the room swam alarmingly.
"Second Young Master, please help this one get 少主 to his chambers," Liu Ruyan said urgently.
Together they supported me out of the forge and through the compound. I was barely conscious by the time we reached my room, aware only of being carefully laid on my bed and blankets being tucked around me.
"Sleep, little brother," Wenxuan's voice came from somewhere far away. "We'll take it from here."
"The weapons..." I mumbled, fighting to stay awake. "Need to ensure... quality control... testing protocols..."
"We'll handle it," he assured me. "Liu Ruyan and I will coordinate with Master Han and Elder Sister. Just rest."
I wanted to argue, to insist that I needed to oversee everything, but my body had different ideas. Consciousness slipped away like water through cupped hands.
In that space between waking and sleeping, I felt the Memory Treasure Vault interface flicker:
'MEMORY TREASURE VAULT'
'USER PHYSICAL STATE: CRITICAL'
'INTEGRATION PROGRESS: TEMPORARILY SUSPENDED'
'PRIORITY: PHYSIOLOGICAL RECOVERY REQUIRED'
'DAILY SEARCHES REMAINING: 3/3'
'NOTE: FURTHER SEARCHES INADVISABLE UNTIL USER CONDITION STABILIZES'
'ESTIMATED RECOVERY TIME: 24-36 HOURS MINIMUM'
Even my mysterious system was telling me to rest. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe I had pushed too hard, too fast.
But as consciousness faded entirely, my last thought was that it had been worth it. The forge improvements were real. The family had hope. And for the first time since arriving in this world, I'd felt like I belonged somewhere.
That alone was worth any price.
---
'MEMORY TREASURE VAULT'
'USER ENTERING DEEP SLEEP STATE'
'INITIATING ACCELERATED RECOVERY PROTOCOLS'
'INTEGRATION TEMPORARILY PAUSED AT 78%'
'CONSCIOUSNESS PRESERVATION: ACTIVE'
'PHYSICAL RESTORATION: IN PROGRESS'
---