After Being Certified by the Immortal Lord on the Path of Ruthlessness - Chapter 42

Jiang Mianhao’s breath hitched, her wildly beating heart gradually calming.

 

Though the surroundings were pitch-black and silent, Lu Jiu’s eyes shone with an extraordinary brightness. So luminous that everything else seemed to fade into gray.

 

“Lu Jiu.” Jiang Mianhao had so much she wanted to say, yet at the sight of those eyes, words failed her.

 

Ye Qingge hummed softly, lifting the grass pot from the small cloth bag. “Feeling stifled? Sorry, sorry. Come out and get some air.”

 

As the pot was raised, its swaying leaves transformed into the flowing skirt of a maiden.

 

Jiang Mianhao steadied herself, her gaze lingering on the person before her. Whispering, she said, “Thank you.”

 

“Hmm?” Ye Qingge’s brow lifted in momentary confusion but quickly caught the emotion through her heart sense.

 

Indeed, thoughts and feelings had a tangible form, and Jiang Mianhao’s gratitude swirled before her as a shimmering mass of pink bubbles.

 

Ye Qingge felt the delicate surge of emotion stirring in her heart.

 

It was an indescribable sensation.

 

Sensing the awareness of her own heart, her gaze unconsciously softened as it fell upon Jiang Mianhao.

 

The person before her was too pure, too radiant. Even though Jiang Mianhao repeated her thanks again and again, the words felt insufficient—too light, too ordinary to convey the depth of her true feelings.

 

It was gratitude.

 

But was gratitude love?

 

Ye Qingge tried to mirror Jiang Mianhao’s emotions, awkwardly attempting to mold them into something like love.

 

Yet when she looked at Jiang Mianhao, she could find not a single thing to be truly grateful for.

 

Their eyes met, locked in what seemed to be mutual affection.

 

But in reality, their hearts were worlds apart.

 

For a moment, neither spoke.

 

Ling Lan, standing beside them, noticed the silence and cleared her throat softly, breaking their locked gazes.

 

“Aren’t we going?” she said, clutching her wooden sword tightly, teeth gritted. “The blacksmith’s shop is about to close.”

 

Her tone was deliberately even, feigning indifference as she strode ahead without waiting for a response.

 

But her trembling hands betrayed her. Though she tried to appear unconcerned, her unnaturally synchronized steps gave her away.

 

Even at night, the blacksmith’s shop shone brightly. Sparks flew from each strike of the hammer, flickering in the darkness like miniature fireworks reminiscent of earlier.

 

Ling Lan was the first to reach the shop, cradling her wooden sword carefully.

 

The old man hammering the red-hot iron didn’t even notice her approach.

 

Beads of sweat, the size of beans, rolled down her forehead, landing on the glowing iron sword. Before they could scatter, the hammer struck, embedding them into the molten metal, fusing them as one.

 

The blacksmith had no time to wipe his sweat. As he lifted his head, droplets flew off, and he bellowed, “Hey! Stand back~!”

 

With a powerful strike, the sweat-mixed sparks scattered into the air.

 

The red-hot iron yielded easily under his hammer, pliable as clay, shaped at his will.

 

“Sorry,” Ling Lan said instinctively, stepping back.

 

Suddenly, someone wrapped an arm around her neck. Jiang Mianhao had leaped onto her back. “Is this the legendary iron flower forging?”

 

Ling Lan glanced at the hands around her neck, then at the flying sparks. Instinctively, she raised her hands to cover Jiang Mianhao’s, whispering, “No, this is sword forging.”

 

Jiang Mianhao let Ling Lan hold her hands, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the sparks. “It looks so fun!”

 

Hearing this, the blacksmith looked up, frowning. “Where did this little girl come from? Why aren’t you home so late?”

 

Jiang Mianhao tilted her head against Ling Lan’s neck and softly replied, “We just finished watching the fireworks show! That’s why we didn’t respond.”

 

The blacksmith hadn’t expected her to answer so seriously. He paused his work and looked up, studying her carefully.

 

The girl before him appeared no more than fourteen or fifteen years old. Though her features hadn’t fully matured, she was already quite pretty, with a hint of baby fat lingering on her cheeks.

 

Her eyes were bright and sparkling, reflecting the firelight in the workshop.

 

The blacksmith had a daughter of his own, and seeing Jiang Mianhao naturally reminded him of her.

 

He said sternly, “Little girl, why aren’t you at home? What are you doing here?”

 

“I’m here to ask you to forge a weapon!” Jiang Mianhao answered, then bit her lip and glanced back at Lu Jiu.

 

The person standing behind her smiled and nodded, signaling her to continue.

 

Jiang Mianhao turned back and said earnestly, “Please make me a sword. One that’s super, super powerful!”

 

The blacksmith chuckled at her words. “Little girl, every sword I make is top-notch. But if the one wielding it is a fool, even the best sword is useless.”

 

“She’s really skilled!” Jiang Mianhao blurted out without thinking.

“Oh?” The blacksmith mistakenly thought she was referring to Ling Lan and glanced at the wooden sword. “You two look quite young. What do you need a sword for?”

 

Jiang Mianhao answered earnestly, “For protection! We’ve encountered so many bad people on our journey. Without a powerful sword forged by you, it would be dangerous!”

 

The blacksmith laughed again. “Dangerous? Where are you coming from and where are you headed? How could it be dangerous?”

 

Ling Lan, hearing the endless stream of questions, realized the blacksmith was deliberately teasing Jiang Mianhao and grew slightly impatient.

 

But Jiang Mianhao obediently replied, “We came from Mount Taibai and are heading to Mount Hua! We want to learn the most powerful sword techniques!”

 

“Learning the most powerful sword techniques, huh?” the blacksmith said. “Alright, come back in forty-nine days. The sword I’m working on now is almost finished. Go home and wait.”

 

Ling Lan couldn’t hold back any longer. She pulled Jiang Mianhao behind her, shielding her like a mother hen, and said sharply, “If we have to wait, why didn’t you say so from the start? Were you just making fun of us?”

 

Seeing Ling Lan’s impatience, Jiang Mianhao gently tugged at her sleeve, calming her.

 

She feared the blacksmith might swing his hammer in frustration.

 

But he merely snorted. “Little girl, do you think a sword can be forged in one night? This one in my hands has already taken eighty-one days to make, and I’ve cut the waiting time in half for you. If you don’t want to wait, you can pay extra or go somewhere else! Goodbye and good riddance!”

 

“You~!” Ling Lan’s temper flared.

 

Just then, a noise came from behind, and a pouch landed at the blacksmith’s feet.

 

The tied bag loosened, spilling its contents—gold, a full pouch of it.

 

The blacksmith froze, sparks crackling around his hammer.

 

“Finish it tonight,” Ye Qingge said coldly. “I want the sword in your hands.”

 

The blacksmith swallowed hard. That pouch of gold could buy not just a sword, but his life.

 

Only then did he notice the girl in white.

 

“But!” the blacksmith stammered, raising his hands defensively. “Our forge has principles! Another customer ordered this sword long ago. I—”

Before he could finish, another pouch of gold landed.

 

Ye Qingge said nothing, only fixed him with a deep, intense gaze.

 

An inexplicable pressure filled the air. The blacksmith swallowed again and muttered, “Alright.”

 

Hearing him relent, Jiang Mianhao cheered, “Yes!”

 

Curious, she stepped closer to the splattering sparks of iron.

 

A raging fire burned fiercely in the night.

 

“Ah~” Ling Lan instinctively reached out her hand to shield Jiang Mianhao, afraid the flying sparks might injure her.

 

Hearing the sound, Jiang Mianhao turned with a soft, “Hmm?” and asked, “What’s wrong, Lanlan?”

 

As she turned, a silvery-white halo followed her movement, blocking all the flying sparks.

 

Ling Lan noticed the halo and withdrew her outstretched hand, a hint of melancholy in her expression.

She let out a self-mocking smile and only then realized that Lu Jiu was standing behind her.

 

Yes, Lu Jiu had been following them.

 

Compared to the powerful spiritual barrier, her own protection seemed almost redundant.

 

No wonder Lu Jiu hadn’t stopped Mianhao when she approached, she had already protected her before Ling Lan could.

 

Ling Lan took a deep breath but exhaled it silently.

 

She was afraid that if her emotions fluctuated any more, she wouldn’t be able to hide the turmoil in her heart.

 

“Lanlan!” Jiang Mianhao called softly. “There are so many finished swords in here!”

 

Ling Lan snapped back to reality with a forced, “Hmm.”

 

“Your wooden sword is broken, so it’s the perfect time to get a new one!” Jiang Mianhao didn’t know much about sword techniques, but she still helped Ling Lan choose. “That one! It looks so cool!”

 

The blacksmith seized the opportunity to promote his wares. “Please step inside and take a look. If any catch your eye, you can try them out.”

 

Ling Lan gave a quiet, “Hmm,” and stepped into the inner room.

 

Ye Qingge hadn’t noticed Ling Lan’s distraction. The moment Jiang Mianhao excitedly ran over, she had already enveloped her in a spiritual barrier.

 

The reason was simple: if she got hurt, Ye Qingge would have to heal her herself.

 

As expected, the lively grass spirit wasn’t content with just watching from the sidelines. She had already moved closer to the blacksmith, examining everything with uncontainable excitement.

 

Ye Qingge stood in place, unwilling to step forward. The blazing fire reminded her uncomfortably of the ones in her nightmares.

 

Jiang Mianhao noticed her hesitation and, after saying a word to the blacksmith, turned back to her.

 

“Lu Jiu,” Jiang Mianhao said gently, “are you tired? Why don’t you head back to the inn first?”

 

Ye Qingge seemed momentarily surprised by her words and looked at her with confusion.

“The fire here is intense, and it’s sweltering. You can tell me what you want, and I’ll handle it for you,” Jiang Mianhao said thoughtfully, noticing the fine beads of sweat on Ye Qingge’s forehead, which only strengthened her resolve.

 

Lu Jiu was afraid of fire.

 

So Jiang Mianhao, admittedly a little selfish, didn’t want her to see anything that might frighten her.

 

But Ye Qingge shook her head and said softly, “I’ll wait here with you. I don’t feel at ease leaving you alone.”

 

“Lanlan is here too!” Jiang Mianhao blurted out without thinking. Seeing that Lu Jiu showed no sign of relenting, she added with a hum, “Alright! Actually, I wanted to ask if you could go buy me some bayberry ice jelly?”

 

Ye Qingge saw through her intentions immediately but didn’t expose them.

 

“Please, I’m really hungry,” Jiang Mianhao continued, clutching her belly and leaning her head against the other’s arm, putting on a cute, pitiful act. “Is that okay? Please, please?”

 

Ye Qingge sighed helplessly and agreed.

 

With her plan accomplished, Jiang Mianhao cheered, “So, what kind of sword does Lu Jiu usually use?”

“I can use anything. Just pick one you like,” Ye Qingge replied gently. “After all, this sword is being forged for you.”

 

Jiang Mianhao’s cheeks flushed pink once again.

 

Seeing her lower her head, Ye Qingge said nothing more and turned to buy her some snacks. It wasn’t that she was being particularly considerate; rather, instead of watching metalworking, she much preferred observing how ice jelly was made.

 

Truth be told, Ye Qingge wasn’t actually afraid of fire. The flames served as a constant warning, reminding her of her true identity.

 

Watching Ye Qingge walk away, Jiang Mianhao returned to the blacksmith’s side. The red-hot metal was poured into molds as molten iron, then clamped with tongs and returned to the fire.

 

Jiang Mianhao withdrew her gaze from the retreating figure and looked at the metal block. “Master, could you teach me how to do this?”

 

“Want to give it a try?” The blacksmith glanced at the young girl, somewhat puzzled. “You’re so small, why would you want to handle such a heavy weapon?”

 

Jiang Mianhao shook her head softly. “This sword isn’t for me.”

 

“Oh? Then what kind do you want?” The blacksmith’s eyes flicked up, immediately recalling the young woman in white who had been standing at a distance earlier.

 

“I don’t know much about swords,” Jiang Mianhao admitted. “But I want it to be light, sharp, and easy to handle.”

 

The blacksmith hummed thoughtfully. “Then why not a short sword? They’re light and sharp, though they can only be used at close range.”

 

Jiang Mianhao shook her head. “Close range is too dangerous. Are there any other options?”

 

The blacksmith glanced at the obedient girl beside him and was reminded of his own daughter. With patience, he began explaining the different types of swords to Jiang Mianhao.

 

The metal block glowed red-hot. Following his instructions, Jiang Mianhao picked up a hammer and struck the iron. Sparks flew, making her flinch.

 

But they posed no danger. Ye Qingge’s spiritual barrier blocked every single one.

 

After finishing his explanation of the various sword types, the blacksmith asked casually, “What is she to you?”

 

Jiang Mianhao didn’t fully catch the question but didn’t dare stop her work. She looked up and made a small questioning sound.

The blacksmith studied her expression, then tilted his chin toward the retreating figure in white.

 

In the darkness, the white robes stood out starkly, accentuating her ethereal and stunning beauty.

 

Jiang Mianhao looked up and couldn’t help but smile. “She’s a friend.”

 

“A friend?” The blacksmith hummed, then pointed. “You struck it crooked.”

 

Jiang Mianhao gasped softly and quickly corrected her aim.

 

Earlier, she had been perfectly normal discussing various topics, but the moment the conversation turned to that person, her mind went blank and her cheeks flushed unnaturally.

 

“I don’t think she’s just a friend,” the blacksmith chuckled. “The way she treats you, I’d say she’s sweet on you!”