Without waiting for an announcement, the zither music abruptly ceased. From behind the curtain, the player asked, "What is it?"
"Fixer Liu introduced a customer to our shop to repair a saber. It is Eldest Young Master He Lingchuan, son of the newly appointed Chief Administrator of Xiazhou, He Chunhua. Master Li says wujin must be used. Furthermore..."
The person behind the curtain cut him off mid-sentence. "Hold on. The new Chief Administrator of Xiazhou, also surnamed He?" A hint of interest crept into the voice. "The former Prefect of Qiansong Commandery?"
"He should be the one. Young Master He's attendant boasted just now that the He father and son brought down National Preceptor Sun."
"Oh? I only knew He Chunhua put in tremendous effort and braved deadly peril venturing into the Panlong Desert. How does his eldest son share in the credit?" The person behind the curtain chuckled. "Could it be mere boasting?"
"As to that, this humble one does not know." Manager Zhao only concerned himself with his own duties. "Master Li said the broken saber he presented is a spirit artifact whose heart-eye still remains. Master Li, please explain."
Li Fubo stepped forward and said respectfully, "The spirit artifact Young Master He seeks to repair is a ring-pommel saber, not in the style of our current dynasty. The blade is unusually long and heavy, and the pommel ring bears a jiao rather than the common Yazi. It is snapped roughly one-third down from the tip. Its heart-eye remains awake; not only has it acknowledged its master, but its bond with Eldest Young Master He is exceptionally deep."
The person behind the curtain asked, "The blade is broken, yet its heart-eye remains awake?" With that, he picked up a book from a nearby shelf.
"Awake. Therefore, to repair it, we must use wujin and employ the method of saber planting."
"Manager Zhao, what kind of person do you take this Eldest Young Master He to be?"
"Only sixteen or seventeen, high-spirited, seemingly no different from any typical son of a wealthy family." There was truly not much to say about boys of that age; newborn calves always fancied themselves unmatched under heaven, while those modest and deferential were as rare as phoenix feathers.
The person behind the curtain gave a low chuckle. "An ancient spirit artifact would acknowledge a wet-behind-the-ears, sixteen- or seventeen-year-old rich boy as its master?"
Li Fubo replied, "Perhaps he has had some fortune."
"This He father and son are quite interesting." The person behind the curtain drew out his tone. "Using wujin to mend a spirit artifact can certainly be considered putting materials to their best use. Still, He Chunhua was merely the prefect of a poor, bitter border territory; can his son scrape together enough money to repair a saber? A pity. Manager Zhao, sell him another weapon instead. Give him a steep discount, and say Songyang Mansion appreciates his merits."
Manager Zhao sighed. "This humble one originally advised him likewise, but Eldest Young Master He brought out National Preceptor Sun's purple-gold pestle and asked us for an appraisal."
Snap! The person behind the curtain slammed the book shut, his pitch rising sharply. "What did you say? Sun Fuping's purple-gold pestle?!"
Both answered in unison, "Yes!"
Li Fubo affirmed, "It has already been inspected. It is beyond doubt that treasured pestle, and completely undamaged!"
"How could this be..." The person behind the curtain lost his composure, but his remaining words were muttered too softly for either of them to catch.
Manager Zhao added, "A treasure like this, further enhanced by such fame, could serve as our shop's crowning treasure if we acquire it. My Lord, we cannot let this pass."
Silence fell behind the curtain.
The two could only wait.
After a long while, His Lordship spoke. "You are right. We cannot miss this opportunity. Manager Zhao, trade him the wujin, and gift him thirty jin of golden mud to nourish the saber."
"My Lord is generous," Manager Zhao said, bowing and withdrawing alongside Li Fubo.
After they departed, the person behind the curtain neither played the zither nor read his book. He merely reclined against the couch, gazing out the window, lost in thought.
What an illustrious figure Sun Fuping had been, endowed with what divine abilities and towering ambitions! Yet in the end, he had met a bitter demise in the desolate border desert, dying at the hands of an obscure minor official, his beloved magical artifact plundered and now pawned off for coin.
Heh, trading the purple-gold pestle for money. If Sun Fuping knew of this in the Netherworld, he would probably be kicking off his coffin lid.
Still, just what had happened out in the desert?
A little over a quarter of an hour later, Manager Zhao returned, his hands completely empty.
His words were somewhat hesitant. "My Lord, Young Master He demands an additional hundred thousand."
"What?"
"He said the value of the purple-gold pestle far exceeds that of the wujin and golden mud, so a straight trade is unfair. Therefore... we have to add more money." Manager Zhao cleared his throat lightly. "I argued vigorously, but Young Master He said the purple-gold pestle is in hot demand. If he cannot make a deal here, he will simply take it to another artifact sect."
"You lost your composure before the purple-gold pestle, didn't you?" the person behind the curtain said with displeasure. "That's why the boy dared to open his mouth so wide."
Sweat broke out on Manager Zhao's face as he stammered, unable to find words. He had appraised treasures for many years and knew he was supposed to keep his emotions hidden so as not to be taken advantage of. Yet a wealthy youth from the provinces had casually produced Sun Fuping's purple-gold pestle, shattering his composure in an instant.
This was the personal magical artifact of Sun Fuping—the former National Preceptor who had nearly overturned the royal capital and the Grand Marshal's key ally!
That fact alone was enough to create tremendous publicity, to say nothing of the astonishing power it possessed in the hands of a mighty cultivator.
With a treasure of this caliber, it was no wonder he had lost his cool.
The person behind the curtain recognized this as well. After pondering for a moment, he said, "Very well. Give him the hundred thousand and waive the smithing fee. For the duration of the saber planting, order Li Fubo to accompany him."
Manager Zhao drew in a sharp breath.
When had His Lordship ever offered such generous terms to anyone? He offered a reminder: "This humble one believes Eldest Young Master He will only remain briefly in Shihuan."
"Mm. Saber planting takes quite a long time; let Li Fubo return only after the blade is fully repaired." The person behind the curtain considered briefly. "I have several instructions. Relay them to him."
Was this sending Li Fubo to travel wherever Eldest Young Master He went? After listening to the instructions, Manager Zhao bowed and turned to carry them out.
***
The answer Manager Zhao brought back took even He Lingchuan somewhat by surprise.
To his mind, asking for an extra hundred thousand was still on the low side, but Li Fubo had mentioned that the thirty jin of golden mud was worth at least several thousand taels of silver. It was also an indispensable base material for saber planting.
Manager Zhao explained, "To grow crops, one requires nutrients and soil; the same applies to planting a saber. Wujin provides the nutrients, while the golden mud serves as the soil. Neither can be lacked. Under normal circumstances, even after purchasing wujin, you would still have to buy golden mud."
He Lingchuan thought silently to himself: *Then what about hydroponics?*
Fixer Liu whispered back and forth with He Lingchuan, but this time spoke up on the sect's behalf: "Eldest Young Master, Master Smith Li accompanying you! That is a stroke of fortune you couldn't find even searching with a lantern!"
The term that tempted He Lingchuan the most was precisely this: Li Fubo would accompany him the entire way, returning to Shihuan only after the broken saber was mended.
Songyang Mansion was a bona fide artifact sect, and the position of Chief Master Smith of the Central Furnace was extremely prestigious, akin to the head elder of some peak in an ancient immortal sect. Such a prominent figure would never simply go work elsewhere on a whim. Had He Lingchuan not presented a spirit artifact, he would never have even met Li Fubo in the first place, let alone have this master smith accompany him north to Xiazhou.
It went without saying that even if Li Fubo had agreed for the sake of money, Songyang Mansion would never have permitted it.
If he went to another artifact sect to repair the blade, setting aside whether they possessed the technique or could mend it properly, Li Fubo had already stated that the saber planting method took several months at the shortest and one to two years at the longest to complete. That meant he would have to leave the broken saber in Shihuan City and return six months or a year or two later to retrieve it.
Over such a long span of time, what if complications arose?
Even if an artifact sect had a stellar reputation, the Yuan Kingdom was by no means peaceful right now, plagued by natural disasters and human upheavals every few days. Hong Xiangqian's rebel army had nearly crossed the Hongchuan River southward to threaten Shihuan City; the Grand Marshal had rebelled not long ago, nearly seizing the royal capital. If He Lingchuan left the broken saber in Shihuan City, could he be confident of recovering it in the chaos of war?
Furthermore, he had staked most of his future cultivation prospects on the Panlong illusion, which meant he could not be separated from his beloved blade for even a single moment.
Therefore, the moment the condition of "Master Smith Li accompanying him north" was proposed, He Lingchuan knew he could not refuse. This was no longer just about money.
"Good, it's a deal!" He Lingchuan said decisively, pushing the purple-gold pestle forward. "This now belongs to Songyang Mansion."
Manager Zhao happily put it away, then turned to order his men to wheel out the wujin and golden mud prepared in the back hall.
To He Lingchuan's surprise, this piece of metal worth over a hundred thousand taels of silver turned out to be an ugly black lump that resembled a large chunk of coal, devoid of any metallic luster. Had Li Fubo not been set to accompany him the entire way, He Lingchuan would have doubted Songyang Mansion's integrity.
Maotao was also dumbfounded. "Th-this is wujin?"
"Never judge a book by its cover; its interior is not like this," Li Fubo said.
The golden mud, on the other hand, was true to its name. It resembled golden seal paste without a speck of impurity. Manager Zhao introduced it as a blend of multiple heavenly materials and earthly treasures mixed in specific proportions; every artifact sect had its own formula for golden mud, resulting in varying quality and efficacy. Naturally, Songyang Mansion's product was of unmatched quality, completely honest and fair, and so forth.
He Lingchuan stowed both items away and signed a contract with Manager Zhao. Because its contents concerned Li Fubo, the master smith also signed and pressed his handprint onto it, after which he said to He Lingchuan, "Young Master He, I will be in your care from now on."
Beaming, He Lingchuan was in high spirits. Who could have anticipated that coming to an artifact sect to repair a broken saber would end with hauling a master smith back with him? He was also very curious. "Your Lordship is truly too courteous. I ought to thank him in person."
Manager Zhao relayed the exact words: "His Lordship says that if fate allows, you will surely meet again; Young Master He need not rush."
Only after escorting the three to the main gates of Songyang Mansion did he take his respectful leave. Li Fubo needed to pack his bags and would come looking for them tomorrow at the inn where the He family was staying.
He Lingchuan climbed back into the carriage, tossing a silver ingot to Fixer Liu. "Well done." Then he asked Fixer Liu, "Are the artifact sects in Shihuan City always this polite to people?"
"How could that be?" Fixer Liu chuckled. "The big figures of Daoist sects often look down their noses even at court officials. Although Songyang Mansion does business in the market, they pride themselves on fairness and integrity; they certainly don't practice humble deference. I've dealt with that Manager Zhao several times before, and he always looked down his nose at people. When has he ever smiled so obsequiously as he did today?"
He also felt proud and elated. "In this humble one's view, it was Young Master He's treasure that carried weight! Even the Marquis of Songyang had to regard you with greater respect."
He Lingchuan laughed heartily, appearing quite pleased with himself. "It seems Sun Fuping was quite popular around the royal capital in his time; even his magical artifact comes with an aura of prestige."
"That was a National Preceptor, someone who manipulated the dynastic fortune of an entire kingdom—no laughing matter! For the past twenty-odd years, even princes and dukes had to treat him with utmost respect upon meeting him." Fixer Liu cupped his hands to him. "For the He family to strike him down... truly a father and son of a military lineage! The heavens bless Great Yuan!"
Chapter 167