The Anvil's Song, A Rival's Respect
"Yes, and do not neglect your soul power cultivation," Mu Chen's voice followed Yao Xuan as he turned to leave. "Strong soul power isn't just for combat; it is the bedrock for a Saint Craftsman, and the only path to the legendary realm of a Divine Craftsman. Never forget: the forge demands strength of body, mind, and spirit in equal measure."
"I understand, Master. I will remember." Yao Xuan bowed slightly, the weight of the expectation settling not as a burden, but as a compass point.
"Go. Let the metal teach you."
Stepping out of Mu Chen's rarefied workshop, the comparative noise of the Association's main hall felt almost mundane. He had taken only a few steps when a clear, challenging voice cut through the ambient clatter.
"Yao Xuan! You made it. Last week's promise—our forging competition. No backing out now."
He looked up to see Mu Xi leaning against a doorway, her arms crossed. Her dark hair was tied back in a practical yet tidy ponytail, and her eyes, the same sharp gray as her father's, held a spark of friendly rivalry.
"Senior Sister Mu Xi," Yao Xuan acknowledged with a small, genuine smile. "Of course. I am ready. Please, lead the way."
She led him to a private forging studio. It lacked the profound soul-guiding arrays of her father's sanctum, but it was impeccably organized. Tools hung in precise alignment on shadow boards, the floor was clean, and the forge itself gleamed from recent care. It spoke of a disciplined, proud craftsperson.
"Alright, junior brother. You're younger, so I'll be gracious. You choose the metal. What will it be?" Mu Xi gestured to a well-stocked rack of material blanks.
"Refined gold," Yao Xuan said without hesitation, selecting the alloy he knew best, the one whose song he had learned to hear most clearly.
"Refined gold?" Mu Xi's eyebrows shot up. "Confident, aren't you? It's one of the trickiest to purify. Very well. Refined gold it is."
"Then let's begin."
"Let's."
They each selected a billet of the pale, brassy metal. The ritual was familiar, calming: opening the forge vents, striking the igniter, feeding the flames until they roared with a clean, blue-hot heart. The two billets were placed side-by-side in the inferno. Then came the wait.
For fifteen minutes, the only sound was the hungry whisper of the fire. Yao Xuan stood with preternatural calm, his breathing even, his senses extended towards the heating metal, tracking the subtle shifts in its aura. Mu Xi stood equally still, but her energy was different—a focused, tenacious intensity, a silent vow not to be outdone by her father's astonishing new disciple.
When the metal reached its perfect, incandescent state, they moved as one. Tongs flashed, and two glowing ingots were transferred to the waiting anvils with twin, ringing clangs. The competition truly began.
CLANG! CLANG-CLANG!
Two hammers rose and fell, but their songs were different. Mu Xi's strikes were a model of textbook perfection—powerful, rhythmic, efficient. Each blow was a statement of controlled strength.
Yao Xuan's hammering was a different language. His strikes were just as powerful, but there was a fluid, almost melodic variance to their rhythm. He wasn't just hitting the metal; he was listening to it, his strikes sometimes heavier, sometimes lighter, as if in conversation with the material's internal stresses. Sparks flew in cascading, orange-gold fans from both anvils, painting the workshop in fleeting, fiery light.
Ten intense minutes later, with synchronized finality, they plunged the glowing metal into the quenching tanks. A great hiss of steam erupted, smelling of hot metal and oil. As the steam cleared, they met each other's eyes across the workshop, both wearing the sweat-beaded, satisfied grins of those who had given an honest effort.
"Now, junior brother," Mu Xi said, wiping her brow with the back of her wrist. "The truth. To the analyzer."
They carried their cooled, forged ingots to a complex console with scanning apertures. Mu Xi went first, placing her block of refined gold inside. Thin beams of coherent light licked over its surface. A screen flickered to life.
Hundred-Refined Refined Gold.
Volume Reduction: 14%
Density Increase: 17%
Impurity Removal: 96%
Quality Rating: Excellent
A smile of genuine pride touched Mu Xi's lips. 'Excellent' was a badge of honor. It meant she had pushed the metal to the very brink of its potential, leaving almost no room for improvement. She glanced at Yao Xuan, her confidence buoyed. "Your turn, junior brother."
Yao Xuan nodded and placed his ingot into the scanner. The beams danced again. The screen updated.
Hundred-Refined Refined Gold.
Volume Reduction: 15%
Density Increase: 20%
Impurity Removal: 100%
Quality Rating: Superior
The word seemed to hang in the air, glowing with finality. Superior.
Mu Xi's confident smile froze, then slowly melted away. Her eyes widened, flicking from the screen to Yao Xuan's calm face, then back to the screen. "How…" The word was a breath. "Superior? One hundred percent impurity removal?"
The gap between 'Excellent' and 'Superior' was a chasm in the forging world. It represented not just incremental improvement, but a qualitative leap in understanding and control. A 'Superior' base metal could increase the success rate of thousand-refining by twenty percent or more. It was the difference between a skilled artisan and a potential master.
"Junior brother… you are… incredible." The words were forced out, laced with stunned admiration.
"Senior sister flatters me. It was a fortunate forging. Your result is truly exceptional as well," Yao Xuan replied, his humility sincere. He respected her skill; it was formidable.
"Don't try to spare my feelings," Mu Xi said, a wry, accepting smile finally breaking through her shock. "I know what these ratings mean. The difference is real." She looked at him, the last embers of competitive fire transforming into pure, professional curiosity. "Your technique… it was different. The rhythm. Tell me, what is your understanding of forging?"
Seeing her shift from defeat to seeking knowledge, Yao Xuan relaxed. "My understanding?" He paused, gathering his thoughts. "I see metal not as inert matter, but as a realm of tiny, willful entities. Each particle has pride, resistance, a chaotic energy. Forging, to me, is an act of leadership. I use my mental power not to crush, but to convince. To subdue their chaos and command them into a perfect, unified order. It is like arranging an army—each particle to its ideal position, creating a structure of perfect harmony and strength. When that order is achieved, the metal reveals its true, perfect quality."
"Subdue… command… an army of particles?" Mu Xi whispered, her mind grappling with the conceptual leap. Her own practice was one of forceful persuasion and precise technique. His was one of sovereign authority and deep communion. The difference was philosophical, and it explained the gulf in their results. A profound respect settled in her eyes, cool and clear. "Thank you for sharing that, junior brother. It is… enlightening."
"By the way," she ventured, a new thought dawning, "with such a profound philosophy, you must be nearing the threshold of Thousand Refining?"
Yao Xuan met her gaze. There was no point in hiding it from the daughter and disciple of Mu Chen, within these walls. "To be honest, senior sister, I have already succeeded in Thousand Refining. Master, concerned about drawing undue attention, has advised me to wait two years before the formal assessment. I would appreciate your discretion."
The color drained from Mu Xi's face. The analyzer's result had stunned her; this revelation simply obliterated her frame of reference. She stared at him as if he had just stated the sky was green.
"You… Thousand Refining? At nine?" Her voice was barely audible. A Level 3 Blacksmith at nine years old. The title 'prodigy' suddenly felt pathetic, insufficient. Her father had once told her that achieving Thousand Refining before eighteen marked a super-genius with the potential for Sainthood. Yao Xuan had done it in half that time, perhaps less.
The last vestige of rivalry within her didn't just fade—it vaporized. What stood before her was no longer just a talented junior brother, but a phenomenon, a landmark on the path of the craft she loved. The gap wasn't one she could bridge with effort; it was a vista she could only admire from afar.
"Monstrous," she finally breathed, the word holding no insult, only awe. "A Level 3 Blacksmith at nine… Junior brother Yao Xuan, I see now. The distance is…" She shook her head, a slow, accepting smile finally returning, free of envy. "I will not try to catch up. I will learn from watching you instead."
It was not a surrender, but a master craftswoman's honest appraisal. In the heat of the forge, a respectful understanding had been hammered out, stronger than any rival's bond.