Three Sentences for You

"Where is he?"

"Inside. Han Shuo is scolding him."

"Scolding? What's going on?"

Luo Yu stood in the doorway and peered inside.

Xiao Shaoyou gave a wry smile and said that ever since Gong Shu Bai's father died, he had never recovered.

He spends every day drowning his sorrows in drink, and the blacksmith shop has fallen into ruin.

Han Shuo knew nothing of this and was furious at his lack of ambition.

He refused every invitation, so Han Shuo had him brought back by force.

"A blacksmith prodigy turned into a drunkard?" Luo Yu frowned.

"This doesn't make sense," he said. "Could there be something more behind it?"

"It's because his father was killed by the Qiang invaders," Xiao Shaoyou replied quietly.

Luo Yu fell silent, feeling a pang of pity as he realized Gong Shu Bai's fate mirrored his own.

Luo Yu forced a smile and glanced at the room. "Let's see what we can do. If it fails, we'll find another smith."

Inside, a young man slumped on the floor reeked of alcohol.

Although called Gong Shu Bai, his skin was as dark as coal, and he muttered, "Uncle Han, please spare me. I only want to stay in the forge. I'm not going to make armor or weapons for those royal guards. I won't sully myself with their cause."

"Now is not the time for arguing!" Han Shuo thundered like a disappointed uncle.

"He and your father were like brothers, and I watched you grow up. I've been stationed at the frontier for years and seldom home, so I brought you back myself. But look at you now: all you do is drink. Do you still think you're human?"

"So what if I drink? It's not a crime," Gong Shu Bai shouted, downing another gulp from his wine gourd.

"You drink too, my father drank, we're all the same," he sneered.

"You insolent brat, how dare you talk back!" Han Shuo fumed.

"I've sent you plenty of silver to run this forge. Where is it? Did you spend it all on wine?"

Gong Shu Bai struggled to his feet, face flushed with anger.

"My father forged iron for a lifetime and died anyway!"

He spat out the words, recalling how the Qiang soldier had slashed his father's chest without a second thought.

"All that ancestral craftsmanship and proud legacy—what good did it do?"

"We're expendable peasants of Longxi; sooner or later we all die at the hands of the Qiang. Why not drink ourselves silly while we're alive?"

He shouted at Han Shuo's duty to protect the frontier.

"When the invaders came, where were you? Again and again they pillaged our villages, slaughtered innocents, and you did nothing!"

A glint of tears flickered in Gong Shu Bai's eyes as he poured out years of buried resentment.

"Scoundrel!" Han Shuo bellowed.

He raised his hand, and a sharp slap cut through the room.

"Hit me! Kill me!" Gong Shu Bai shouted, tears in his eyes.

"At least it would spare me dying like a dog at their hands!"

"You fool!" Han Shuo roared, about to strike again.

"Stop!" Luo Yu intervened, stepping between them.

Han Shuo halted, turning his head away.

Gong Shu Bai rubbed his stinging cheek and sneered.

"So you're the young lord of Cangqi? I've no love for soldiers, royal or otherwise. If it weren't for Han Shuo, I'd call you out too. You want me to forge weapons? Dream on!"

Luo Yu understood the source of his hostility.

He hated the Qiang for killing his father and hated the frontier army for their failures.

"Name's Luo Yu," he said calmly. "I bear you no ill will. I sympathize with your loss, but your father cannot return. Please accept my condolences."

"Luo Yu…" Gong Shu Bai paused, recognition flickering in his eyes.

"You're the one who killed Wanyan Chang and held Yangyang Pass. That victory was yours."

He stared at Luo Yu in shock.

"I truly wish to ask for your help at Cangqi," Luo Yu said evenly.

"I have three sentences. After you hear them, you can choose to stay or go. No one will force you."

The room fell silent.

Gong Shu Bai's eyes flickered as he braced himself to listen.

"First." Luo Yu raised one finger. "Han Shuo told me your family is a legendary smithing clan skilled in ironworking and mechanisms. Your father wanted you to carry on that legacy. Do you think he would rest peacefully seeing you squander his craft, letting your family's art die?"

Gong Shu Bai said nothing, but the anger in his eyes dimmed.

"Second." Luo Yu held up two fingers. "You're not the only one to suffer at the hands of the Qiang. At Yangyang Pass I saw countless civilians butchered, children wailing in pools of blood. Life deals cruel blows, yet they endure. As a son of Longxi, you should defend your home, not fester in despair. You have the skill to forge armor and weapons that save lives and avenge the fallen. I command only three hundred soldiers, but each has slain Qiang invaders by the hundred. We fight the battles others fear and guard the people they abandon."

Silence reigned. Even Xiao Shaoyou and Han Shuo were moved, remembering the transformation after Yangyang Pass.

"Third." Luo Yu raised three fingers. "If you stay, I promise to defend our territories and our people. We fight for our homes or we die together. You must decide whether you have the courage."

He turned and walked toward the door.

Gong Shu Bai's heart throbbed. He called out instinctively, "And if we win?"

Luo Yu paused, meeting his eyes.

"We'll bring a jar of victory wine to your father's grave—together."

With that promise, Luo Yu and his companions departed, leaving Gong Shu Bai standing in stunned silence.

After a long moment, he raised his fist and shouted, "Han Shuo, send some men to move all the forge tools here! How can I smith without my tools?"