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Darkness. A man in crimson robes and hood stood silent. A circle of talismans flared to life around him, each streaking toward hidden enemies.
"Fools…" a whisper came.
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The afternoon sun hung low over the valley, bathing the mountain village in a warm, golden hue. Smoke drifted lazily from chimneys, carrying with it the mingled scents of cooked grains and metal dust. Long Tianyu made his way along the narrow path that led toward Nong Xuanfeng's home.
He carried a small wrapped bundle under his arm, heavy enough that he had to shift it every few steps. The faint metallic clink from inside reminded him of his discovery, an ore unlike anything he'd seen before.
The Nong family's courtyard came into view before long. Even from the road, the steady clang, clang, clang of hammer on metal rang clear and rhythmic, echoing off the nearby hills. The Nong family were blacksmiths, known in the village for crafting farming tools, horseshoes, and the occasional weapon for the village guards or to sell.
Nong Xuanfeng himself stood near the forge, bare-chested and drenched in sweat, his muscles gleaming under the amber light. Sparks danced around him like tiny fire spirits as he struck a glowing hunk of metal on the anvil. His father, Nong Wei, worked the bellows with slow, practiced motions, feeding the fire with bursts of air that made the flames roar brighter. Nong Xuanfeng's mother, Nong Yulan moved gracefully among the sparks and roaring flames too, helping her husband with various tasks.
Long Tianyu paused at the gate, watching the scene for a moment. The rhythm of their labor was mesmerizing, and for a fleeting instant, he wondered if cultivation wasn't so different from forging—a slow, burning process of tempering one's spirit through pain and persistence.
Finally, he called out, "Brother Xuanfeng!"
The sound of hammering paused. Nong Xuanfeng looked up, grinning broadly when he saw Long Tianyu. "Ah, Tianyu! Come in, come in!"
Long Tianyu stepped into the courtyard, bowing politely to the family. Nong Wei gave him a nod, his lined face breaking into a faint smile. "Good to see you, Tianyu. You've been quiet today. Usually everyone could hear you through the village. Found something to keep yourself busy, eh?"
Long Tianyu smiled, unwrapping the bundle he carried. Inside lay a piece of ore. It was almost black, yet not quite, under the sunlight, faint veins of blue shimmered across its surface like trapped lightning.
The moment the cloth fell away, the forge light seemed to dim, as though the ore absorbed the glow around it.
Nong Xuanfeng wiped his hands on a rag and crouched beside Long Tianyu to get a closer look. "Huh… that's something." He touched the surface and frowned slightly. "Cold. Even after being in the sun."
His father leaned over. "Where did you find this?"
"In the mountain mine," Tianyu replied. "I was with Chen Jie and Zang Liu."
Nong Wei turned the ore in his calloused hands, his brows furrowing in thought. "Never seen one like it. Looks similar to thunder iron, but those veins… that shine…"
Long Tianyu chuckled softly. "I was hoping it might be good for forging a sword."
That earned him a round of skeptical looks.
"A sword?" Nong Xuanfeng repeated. "Out of this? We don't even know what kind of ore it is. Might be too brittle—or too hard to shape at all."
"I'm sure," Long Tianyu said simply. His tone carried quiet conviction. "If it breaks, then so be it. But if it works…" He looked at Nong Xuanfeng "Then I'll have something of my own. Something forged from you, hehe."
Nong Xuanfeng studied him for a long moment, then grinned. "You're serious."
Long Tianyu nodded.
"Alright," Xuanfeng said finally, clapping him on the shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. "Then we'll give it a try. But not today. We're finishing an order for the merchants coming next week. After that, we'll see what your mystery rock has to offer."
"Tomorrow, then," Nong Wei added, his eyes still fixed on the ore. "Bring it early. We'll test its temper and see how it reacts to the forge."
Long Tianyu bowed gratefully. "Thank you, Uncle Nong. I'll be here tomorrow."
The walk home was peaceful. Fireflies began to blink to life in the fields, and distant lamps flickered in the village houses. Long Tianyu breathed deeply, the scent of wet earth and smoke filling his lungs. His heart still beat with quiet excitement.
When he reached the Long family house, the door was already open, and the warm light of the hearth spilled onto the porch. His mother, Long Meilin, was setting bowls on the table, while his father, Long Jian, sat sharpening a hoe with slow, steady strokes.
"Tianyu," his mother said, smiling when she saw him. "You're late again. Did you eat?"
"I will," he said, setting his small bundle by the wall and sitting down. "I went to the Nong family today."
His father raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What for?"
Long Tianyu unwrapped the cloth again, showing them the ore. "I found this near the old mine. Nong Xuanfeng and his father will help me forge it into a sword tomorrow."
Long Jian leaned closer, examining the stone. The veins of blue glimmered faintly in the firelight. "That's a fine-looking piece. But forging a sword? That's no simple thing."
"I know," Tianyu replied. "But I want to learn. I don't want to just dream about cultivation. I want to practice with a real sword too."
Long Meilin exchanged a glance with her husband but said nothing. "Then eat first. Even cultivators need to eat."
Long Tianyu ate quietly, but his mind was elsewhere. Images of sparks, hammer strikes, and flowing qi filled his thoughts. The conversation with Song Ming still lingered in his memory—the teacher's words about qi, about potential, about the danger of arrogance.
After dinner, he excused himself and went to his small room at the back of the house. The air inside was cool and still. A single candle flickered on the wooden table beside his bed, its flame dancing whenever the breeze slipped through the cracks in the bamboo walls.
He sat cross-legged on the floor and took a deep breath. The world around him began to fade—the creaking of bamboo, the faint rustle of the wind, even the chirping of the crickets outside. Slowly, he guided his awareness inward.
The first thing he saw was light.
Not the kind of light one sees with open eyes, but a warm, pulsing glow that seemed to come from within his chest. His spiritual core, a faint sphere of energy hovered in the center of his consciousness, surrounded by swirling motes of mist-like qi.
He focused on the rhythm of his breath. Each inhale drew faint streams of qi inward, and each exhale refined them, compressing them into the glowing core. It pulsed softly, like a beating heart.
Tonight, the flow was smoother. He could feel the energy threading through his meridians with less resistance, spreading warmth through his limbs. The light within his core brightened, splitting into tiny flickers, more of them than before.
He smiled faintly. Progress.
But beneath that joy was unease. He could feel the energy building inside him, growing stronger, denser—but what did that mean if he didn't know how to use it?
He opened his eyes, staring at his hands. They were slender, unscarred, the hands of a farmer's son, not a warrior's.
"If I met a real cultivator, or even mercenary," he muttered to himself, "I wouldn't even know how to raise a sword."
He thought of the travelers who passed through their village sometimes, men and women with long swords at their waists, their steps light as feathers, their gazes distant and cold. They seemed to belong to another world entirely.
Long Tianyu clenched his fists. "I'll learn," he whispered. "Somehow."
He stood and drew in a steady breath, recalling how he'd seen guards train in the town once—wide stances, focused eyes, strikes that carried both strength and control. Awkwardly, he mimicked the movements, stepping, turning, thrusting with invisible force. His balance faltered, his arms flailed, but he kept going, again and again, until his breath came in ragged gasps.
The candle had almost burned out by the time he stopped. Sweat dripped down his back, and his arms trembled. Yet beneath the exhaustion was a fierce spark of satisfaction.
He sat again, closing his eyes. The warmth in his core flickered brighter, pulsing in time with his heart. For the first time, he felt as though his body and spirit were beginning to move as one.
Outside, the moon had risen high above the hills, casting pale silver light through the window slats. The faint sound of wind moving through the willows whispered across the fields.
Long Tianyu didn't know yet what path lay ahead..
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End of chapter 8 - Nong Family