Chapter 19: Yun Smithy

Jin Ye walked through the Outer Market, weaving through the crowds of merchants and rogue cultivators. The scent of sizzling meat and incense filled the air, mixing with the distant clang of metal from the blacksmith district. He kept his pace even, his expression calm, but his mind remained alert. Dawnroot City was already watching him, and that meant he needed a place to disappear.

The gold he had taken from Wang Yiran was more than enough to secure a residence, a small courtyard tucked away in the quieter parts of the district. The stone walls were sturdy, enclosing a modest living space, a meditation chamber, and an open training yard. It wasn't much, but it was private.

Stepping through the gate, he inspected every inch of the structure, checking for hidden formations or surveillance markers. There was nothing, just an old home. For the first time since arriving in the city, he allowed himself a slow breath. He had a base. Now, it was time to prepare.

Whispers drifted through the market as he moved, rumors swirling like wildfire. The events at the Iron Lantern Inn had not been forgotten. Wang Yiran's humiliation had spread through the city, and with it came the expected reactions. The Wang Clan had yet to act, but that would not last. A noble's pride was not easily swallowed, and Jin Ye had shattered Wang Yiran's in full view of the public. The rogue cultivators who stayed in the Outer Market had taken an interest in him, some viewing him as a fool, others as a potential target. There was curiosity from the sect recruiters as well. He had been marked as a wild card, someone skilled yet unaffiliated. He expected no open approach, but the eyes that watched him were growing in number.

He ignored them. There were stronger enemies ahead. He would not waste his time worrying about weak ones.

The heat of the forge district washed over him as he stepped inside Yun's Smithy, the scent of molten metal thick in the air. Sparks danced from the worn anvil where an old man stood, hammering a dull iron blade with slow, practiced movements. The firelight illuminated scarred hands and a hardened face, the features of a craftsman who had once stood among the greats but had long since been left behind.

Master Yun didn't look up as Jin Ye approached. "I don't make weapons for amateurs. If you're looking for a decorative blade, go to the merchants."

Jin Ye ignored the dismissal. His gaze swept the workshop, scanning the racks of unfinished weapons. He picked up a half-forged sword, running his fingers over the metal's uneven surface. The Qi infusion was unstable. The cooling process had been rushed. A weapon forged for speed rather than mastery.

"You hammered at the wrong temperature," Jin Ye said, his voice even. "The structure won't hold under high Qi reinforcement."

Master Yun's hammer stopped mid-strike. His eyes flickered toward Jin Ye, sharp despite their age. "You think you can do better?"

Jin Ye met his gaze without hesitation. "I know I can."

A long silence stretched between them, broken only by the quiet hiss of steam rising from the forge. Then, with a slow exhale, Master Yun set his hammer down. He studied Jin Ye for a moment longer before nodding toward the cooling racks. "Fine. Let's see if you're worth my time."

Jin Ye stepped forward, rolling up his sleeves. The forge burned bright, and the first step toward crafting his weapon had begun.

The heat of the forge wrapped around Jin Ye like a living thing, thick with the scent of burning coal and molten metal. The air shimmered from the intensity of the flames, the dull roar of the furnace filling the workshop with an unbroken hum. Master Yun stood beside the anvil, arms crossed, watching with an unreadable expression.

Jin Ye ignored him. His focus was on the metal before him, a half-forged sword left abandoned on the worktable. The steel had been poorly tempered, its Qi channels unstable. He picked it up, running his fingers along the spine of the blade, feeling the uneven structure. A careless craftsman had rushed this piece, hammering the metal without truly shaping it.

With a measured breath, he turned to the forge and slid the blade into the fire. The orange glow swallowed it whole, the steel darkening as heat surged through it. He grasped the tongs, waited, then pulled it free, placing it onto the anvil.

The hammer felt familiar in his grip. A lifetime ago, he was a renowned blacksmith.

The first strike fell, a sharp ring echoing through the workshop. Sparks erupted from the steel as he struck again, each impact precise, reshaping the metal with controlled force. His movements were steady, deliberate—nothing wasted. Every hammerfall forced the imperfections from the blade, drawing out its potential like a cultivator refining their Qi.

Master Yun grunted, stepping closer, watching the rhythm of his strikes. Jin Ye did not look up. He didn't need to. He already knew.

He was passing the test.

Leaving the smithy Jin Ye walked the streets of the Outer Market. Jin Ye heard it in the air, a moment of unnatural stillness before violence struck. He stopped near the entrance of a food stall, his fingers lightly tapping against the table. Across the street, two rogue cultivators faced each other, their Qi pressing outward in a silent clash of will. The larger man moved first, his blade flashing forward in a wide arc, but the smaller one did not retreat. A flicker of movement, a glint of silver, and the fight was over. Blood sprayed across the stone as the larger man collapsed, lifeless before he hit the ground.

No one screamed.

The vendor continued cooking, his hands steady as if nothing had happened. The crowd moved on, stepping over the fresh corpse like it was no different from the city's filth. This was Dawnroot City, a place where strength dictated survival and hesitation led to death. Jin Ye turned away, his thoughts already shifting. The underground tournament he had overheard whispers about was starting to look useful. The fights would be brutal, but the rewards were worth the risk. A perfect place to test himself, to sharpen his blade against real opponents before the Azure Sky Sect's entrance trial.

Back at the courtyard, Jin Ye moved through the open space, refining his control over Shadow Step. His movements were faster than before, smoother, the technique blending seamlessly with Moonlit Phantom Steps. When he shifted positions, it was no longer just a flicker—it was an illusion of presence, a distortion that made it seem as if he was in two places at once. He sparred against the air, testing different approaches, striking and retreating in an instant. His Qi surged with each movement, the stolen fragments of fate settling deeper into his body. The wolf's instincts still lingered, enhancing his reactions in ways he had yet to fully understand.

His breathing steadied as he sat cross-legged in meditation, guiding his Qi through his meridians. He was close to the next stage, the energy within him pressing against the barrier of the sixth level of Qi Refinement. It would not take long. His progress was faster than most. Others cultivated through effort, through persistence. He cultivated through stealing and adding onto his.

A shift in the air pulled him from his meditation. Someone was watching him.

Jin Ye did not move, did not react. His senses stretched outward, his Qi remaining steady, but his awareness sharpened. He could not see them, but he could feel them. A presence lingering just beyond sight. Wang Yiran was still nursing his wounds, but that didn't mean he wouldn't send others in his place.

He did not move to chase the watcher away. Let them look. Let them watch. He was ready for whatever they threw at him.

Soon enough, they would be another stepping stone for his return to power.