Chapter 67: The Grace of a Single Meal

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Chapter 67: A Meal's Gratitude
"This knife is magnificent. How much silver is it?"
The bamboo-hatted man sheathed the blade and looked at the blacksmith.
The blacksmith smiled and waved his hand. "I made it very clear from the start—this knife is a gift for you. Don't mention silver; I wouldn't take even a single copper coin. If you insist on paying me, it means you look down on me."
The bamboo-hatted man slowly raised his head. "That won't do, I must pay you..."
Clang!
A fierce gleam flashed in the eyes beneath the bamboo hat. His right arm exerted force in an instant, and he drew the blade.
The blacksmith's pupils contracted violently.
Before he could even react, a cold flash sliced through the space before him, and an invisible blade aura erupted from the edge.
A breath later.
The blade was returned to its scabbard.
The bamboo-hatted man's gaze had already returned to calm, devoid of even a shred of the previous fierce gleam.
The blacksmith's expression grew somewhat stiff. "You..."
Boom!
A loud crash came from the tiles on the roof of the blacksmith's shop.
A dozen shattered tiles tumbled down, accompanied by a figure.
It was an ordinary-looking man dressed in an inconspicuous hemp robe, with the hilt of a sword faintly visible at his waist.
His body shuddered continuously, and there was a finger-deep wound at his throat from which fresh blood gushed endlessly.
In the man's still-wide-open eyes, there was only sheer disbelief, as if he had never imagined he would die here, dying at the hands of the bamboo-hatted man.
"He almost fooled even me."
Seeing this scene, Jiang Ren recalled the brilliance of that blade strike just moments ago.
From the moment the bamboo-hatted man abruptly changed his tone and drew his blade, Jiang Ren had genuinely thought the man had been tempted by the weapon's quality and decided to kill the blacksmith to prevent him from ever forging a duplicate.
Little did he know, the person the bamboo-hatted man truly intended to kill was the eavesdropping scoundrel hiding on the roof.
Had Jiang Ren not been the very blade used to kill, he might not have been able to react in time.
Although Jiang Ren's vision could penetrate obstacles, it was limited to a two-meter radius around the blade itself, which was why he had failed to detect the rogue earlier.
"That blade aura should be the inner energy the blacksmith mentioned a few times."
Jiang Ren guessed.
The moment the bamboo-hatted man swung the blade, a special, highly lethal energy entered his body.
Then it transformed into a blade aura, surged out from the edge, pierced the roof tiles, and slit the lurking assassin's throat.
"Entered... I somehow feel like that word isn't quite right."
Jiang Ren shook his thought away.
Just as he banished the notion, he saw a red dot of light, about the size of a soybean, rise from the lifeless corpse.
"What is that?"
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Jiang Ren's mind stirred, and he discovered he could guide the dot of light toward himself.
As the light drew closer, he made a new discovery.
"This dot of light seems similar to the mysterious energy I've cultivated through practice. Could it also be used to reinforce the blade?"
Without hesitation, Jiang Ren acted on the thought.
He attempted to integrate the dot of light into the blade and used it to strengthen and elevate the hardness of the weapon.
Throughout all of this.
Neither the bamboo-hatted man nor the blacksmith reacted in the slightest. The red speck of light, so glaringly obvious to Jiang Ren, was completely invisible and intangible to them.
"Brother Nie, that silent move of yours really gave me quite a scare."
The blacksmith snapped out of his daze and gave a wry, bitter smile.
"Apologies."
The voice of the bamboo-hatted man, Nie Qingge, remained cold and detached.
Outside, the man in green garments guarding the shop heard the commotion and shouted, "Big brother, what happened? Can I come in?"
The blacksmith immediately scolded, "If you come in, who's going watch the shop? If anything gets stolen, are we supposed to eat northwest wind tomorrow?"
"Not going in, then. No need to be so fierce."
The man in green muttered under his breath, though it effectively dismissed his thought of entering.
"I wouldn't hold a petty grudge against Brother Nie over such a small matter."
The blacksmith glanced at the corpse on the ground and said, "Judging by the calluses on the tiger's mouth and his bulging temples, this fellow wasn't just a skilled swordsman, but a master of the Postnatal Realm. What kind of deep hatred must he have harbored to follow you this closely and climb onto the roof to eavesdrop in broad daylight?"
Nie Qingge replied, "He wasn't the only one."
"How many more are there?"
The blacksmith instantly looked up at the ceiling in tension, then toward the windows and wooden doors nearby.
Nie Qingge added, "He was the only one tracking me, but he's not the only one who wants me dead."
"What kind of colossal influence have you provoked?"
Hearing this, the blacksmith gradually began to understand.
Nie Qingge squatted down and searched the corpse. "I received a letter and set out to handle a matter. The faction this man belongs to wanted me to give up, and I refused them, so..."
The blacksmith chimed in, "So they decided to kill you?"
"Correct."
Nie Qingge gave a slight nod.
The blacksmith looked thoughtful. "In other words, as long as you don't give up, they'll keep sending assassins after you indefinitely?"
"Yes."
"And they'll all be formidable experts of this Postnatal Realm?"
"It's possible they might send stronger ones."
As he spoke, Nie Qingge fished a scabbarded dagger and several silver banknotes from the dead man's robes.
After a casual glance, he tucked them away into the inner pocket of his own garment.
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The blacksmith pondered for a moment and couldn't help saying, "For the sake of a single letter, you're willing to brave the relentless pursuit of a major power rather than simply let it go?"
"The owner of the letter showed me kindness."
Nie Qingge stood up, his calm gaze carrying an unshakable firmness.
"What kind of kindness could possibly be worth risking your life on the road, fighting off wave after wave of assassins just to fulfill?"
The blacksmith couldn't comprehend it. Any random person they dispatched was already such an elite warrior.
If that faction grew serious and sent even more terrifying powerhouses, this benefactor who had once saved him would undoubtedly meet his doom.
"The grace of a single meal."
Nie Qingge said, seemingly lost in memory. "Back then, when I was on the verge of starving to death, he bestowed a bowl of rice upon me. Without that bowl of rice, I certainly wouldn't have survived that day, let alone be the person standing here alive and well today."
"The grace of a single meal... that is indeed a profound debt of gratitude."
Hearing these words, the blacksmith ceased his attempts to persuade him otherwise.
Though he himself was willing to gift his finest forged weapon out of gratitude for saving his life, he knew full well that if he were in Nie Qingge's shoes, he would never place himself in mortal peril over a bowl of rice eaten years ago.
The blacksmith sighed and spoke again, "I'll take care of this corpse. Brother Nie, if you have no other business, you should set off quickly. That way, if the faction is slow to react, the next assassins they dispatch might just miss you altogether."
"Many thanks!"
Nie Qingge raised his hands in a fist-and-palm salute, turned, and walked out.
He strode through the outer shop filled with weapons, untied the reins of the weary-looking steed tethered to the front pillar, mounted the tall horse, and galloped swiftly away.
"It worked!"
Jiang Ren, who had never left the blacksmith's shop since his birth, did not immediately focus his attention on the outside world.
Because his earlier experiment had yielded results.
The blood-red speck of light was indeed effective, and a single droplet was roughly equivalent to four or five hours of arduous, bitter cultivation.
By dedicating all of the blood-red light to reinforcing the blade, its hardness had increased by roughly one percent over its baseline.
This also meant that aside from arduous cultivation, he had acquired a brand-new method of obtaining mysterious energy.
"I just wonder what the conditions are for these lights of light to appear. Do they appear when anyone dies around me, or must they be killed by my own hand?"
After a moment of contemplation, Jiang Ren shifted his perspective back to the outside world.
At that moment, Nie Qingge had already ridden his horse out of the small town and was galloping down the dusty yellow road.
Only a few ordinary people carrying bundles of firewood could be seen in the vicinity; naturally, a sudden slaughter like the one before couldn't possibly happen here, making it impossible to test the conditions for generating the light dots just yet.
Jiang Ren withdrew his gaze and manipulated the mysterious energy within the blade, beginning to enhance its hardness and sharpness.
Judging by the size of the light dot and the degree of reinforcement it provided.
Once the mysterious energy extracted from the light dot was fully utilized, the blade's hardness might potentially reach twice its initial state.
Back at the blacksmith's shop.
The blacksmith turned around and spotted a stack of silver banknotes resting on the nearby workbench.
Picking them up, he realized their value already rivaled the price of the gifted knife—and even exceeded it by a fair margin. He couldn't help but shake his head. "A true hero among men..."
(The End of This Chapter)
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