Chapter 9 The Blacksmith's Shop

  The young servant sneered and slapped the invitation in his hand a few times, saying: "Zhao Da Chui, this invitation from my master is worth several taels of silver, enough for you to hammer away for half a month. Are you looking down on my master?"

  You're giving him face, but he doesn't want it. Zhao Xian smiled lightly and pulled the little servant over to press him against the stove, saying: "Master looks down on him, what's his problem?"

  The young servant's hair fell into the stove, immediately filling the air with a burning smell. The intense red glow made his face pale, and his frail body was unable to break free from Zhao Xian's grasp. In just an instant, his face felt scorching hot and unbearable.

  Zhao Xian spat out a mouthful of saliva, put his feet on the back of a young servant, and slowly picked at his fingernails.

  The young servant struggled for a moment, and seemed to understand Zhao Xian's ruthlessness. His face was already in unbearable pain, and he hastily begged for mercy: "Young Master Zhao Xian, I know my mistake, I just came to deliver a message, please spare me."

  "Alright, alright! Don't touch my stove, you'll scald people and how will our guests eat?"

  Boss Zhang was afraid that Zhao Xian would really take action, so he quickly brought over a bowl of mixed rice to dissuade him. Zhao Xian had lived in the alley for many years and knew his temper well - he wasn't afraid of heaven or earth. Given an opportunity, he even dared to abduct the daughter of the county magistrate back home. What's so special about hitting a small household slave?

  Steaming hot dumplings, with a few green onions floating on top. On this cold day, just looking at them makes one's appetite surge. The purely natural flavor is something that no amount of additives can make up for. Even Zhao Xian, who is quite particular about his food, couldn't find anything to fault.

  "Old Zhang, your craftsmanship has been getting better and better lately." Zhao Xian saw that breakfast had arrived, so he lost interest in scolding the young servant and let him off.

  Old Zhang smiled and brought over the second bowl. Zhao Xian took it, pressed the small servant to the table, and said with a friendly face: "You came here early in the morning to wait for me, it's not easy, this bowl of wontons is a reward from me."

  The little servant was favored as if he was surprised. It was cold and frozen outside, but in order to deliver a message, his legs were all frostbitten. Unexpectedly, Zhao Xian had also prepared food for him to eat.

  "Ah, Master Zhao is too polite." The young servant's face was still sore, and he didn't dare to show off his expression again. He revealed a embarrassed smile, and quickly sat down beside the table, picked up the bowl and took a big mouthful of soup, letting out a long sigh, feeling much more comfortable all over.

  Zhao Xian was so polite, and the young servant didn't want to be too rude either. But since Young Master had entrusted him with a task, he took out the invitation again and pushed it in front of Zhao Xian, saying: "Mr. Zhao Xian, you're being too modest. If you were an ordinary person, I wouldn't even be worthy of carrying your stick. Everyone in Changzhou knows that you're a real man, but unfortunately, your status is too low, which has wasted your talents."

  This remark was very much to Zhao Xian's liking. He patted the young servant on the shoulder and praised, "Well said, you've made progress, I have high hopes for you!"

  Unfortunately, after Zhao Xian finished boasting, he continued to enjoy his own breakfast and didn't even mention the invitation.

  The young servant saw the situation and hastily advised: "Young Master Zhao, this time at the 'Literary and Martial Arts Conference', not only will the county magistrate attend, but also the Minister of War Shen, who has returned to his hometown for a family visit, is said to be present. If you can show your talents in front of him and gain recognition, it would be a great opportunity to rise to prominence overnight. Don't you really want to go?"

  The General Shen that Xiao Shu mentioned was originally from Changzhou, and he made a name for himself in a battle at the border many years ago. From then on, his career soared and he became famous throughout the land. He is one of the few fierce generals of Da Liang. However, Zhao Xian looked down on this person. A general who only cares about military achievements and does not cherish the lives of his subordinates, no matter how brave, is just a butcher and cannot be called a great general.

  The young servant saw Zhao Xian's face reveal disdain, and couldn't help but frown, thinking for a moment. Suddenly, his eyes turned, revealing a ambiguous smile: "I heard that the prefecture master's own daughter will also attend. The lady of the house, who usually doesn't leave the inner courtyard, will also make an appearance. The prefecture master's precious daughter, Liu Yan'er, is known as the number one flower of Changzhou. Many young masters have pursued her, but unfortunately, no one has ever seen her face. Those poor scholars and rustic husbands can't compare to you, who excel in both literature and martial arts. If you were to win her favor..."

  "Changzhou Yizhihua? I've never heard of such a person. The name sounds nice though." Zhao Xian muttered to himself, thinking back to his own days when he was known as "Kindergarten's lone grass", and how he had charmed all the little girls so much that they would follow him from the boys' bathroom to the girls', what a dashing figure he was. Unfortunately, after being a kid for over a decade, he had even forgotten what women tasted like.

  Zhao Xian was just about to ask how the "One Branch Flower" looked, but he saw that Xiao Shuai's face had turned pale and he looked very painful. He remembered the time when he got rid of his blackheads and excitedly asked: "How is it? Is there a feeling of all the pores on your body opening up, with impurities gushing out from inside, and your skin becoming smoother and more delicate?"

  Zhao Xian was naturally joking, and what he put in the bowl wasn't a secret formula for removing blackheads, but rather his own homemade weight loss medicine. Ling Xian had a bad impression of him to begin with, and this little scoundrel actually dared to look down on others, did he think that being the "Little Overlord of South City" was just for show?

  The little servant's face turned very strange, he gritted his teeth and responded with a sound, covering his stomach, tightly clamping his legs together, trying hard to prevent the impurities from spewing out.

  He glared at Old Zhang with a fierce gaze, his voice weak and intermittent as he said: "You... this old thing...... the wontons... are they leftovers from last night?" As soon as he finished speaking, his stomach let out a loud rumble, his eyes suddenly widened, and his face turned green. He bent over and rushed out of the alley.

  Unfortunately, after leaving the warm temperature of the stove, a cold wind blew, and the young servant suddenly let out another loud sneeze... what a sight... tsk tsk tsk...

  "Hmmph!" Zhao Xian scrunched up his face in distaste, losing even the interest to eat. He put down three copper coins and stood up to leave the wonton stall, casually tossing the half packet of medicine powder into the stove.

  This was something Zhao Xian had concocted with Hua Yu when they were studying medicine together, just messing around and adding a few days' worth of stomach trouble. The original intention was to make a weight loss drug, but unfortunately no one in Changzhou dared to buy it, so he could only give it away for free, like to that poor little servant boy.

  Zhao Xian's ironwork shop, located near the entrance of Osmanthus Lane, was originally owned by an old blacksmith. After he moved away, Zhao bought the shop and renamed it 'Zhao Da Chui Ironwork Shop'.

  Although the name sounds unpleasant, it is a rule for artisans to take names, such as Zhang Daciaozipu, etc., because the literacy rate was extremely low in this era. If you give a name that is too troublesome, such as "Yi Chui Ding Yin", some people can't read it, and it's better to be straightforward.

  When Zhao Xian walked to the ironwork shop, the sky was just getting light. The surrounding shops were still closed, but a little girl wearing a hemp skirt was huddled at the entrance of the ironwork shop, holding a small bamboo basket. The weather was too cold and she was thinly dressed, her face frozen red, biting her lower lip tightly, making people feel pity for her.

  "Little Dream?" Zhao Xian saw the situation and hastily ran over to kick open the door, pulling the girl inside and scolding: "You silly girl, I didn't even lock the door, it's cold outside, why don't you come in and hide for a bit."

  Xiao Meng is the daughter of Old Wang, a farmer outside the city. She usually works in a weaving shop in the city and passes by Zhao Xian's place every day on her way home. Over time, the two have become familiar with each other. As the saying goes, "Deep mountains breed beautiful birds." Xiao Meng is young but has eyebrows like the moon, curved big eyes, a delicate nose, and a small red mouth. She is a rare beauty, and many people who come to propose marriage are almost worn out by her doorstep. However, this little girl is naturally introverted and shy, with a small temper, and can be scared away by just a joke. Zhao Xian likes to tease her when he has nothing better to do.

  "Hammer brother, I'm not cold." Xiaomeng lowered her head, looking apologetic, because the charcoal stove was burning in the house, making it much warmer than outside. Her complexion had also recovered a bit, and with embarrassment, her face turned bright red, making her look even more delicate and lovely.

  Still saying it's not cold, if you don't come in time, you might freeze to death. Zhao Xian, being a very kind-hearted man, will definitely hold Xiao Meng tightly and take her into the house, following the principle of saving people to the end. He will also take off his clothes to warm her up, and then the two of them will be like dry firewood...

  Zhao Xian didn't know what was wrong with him, but as he looked at Xiao Meng, he suddenly became dazed, and his eyes still shone with a strange light.

  "Hammer brother, what are you thinking?" Zhao Xian's mischievous gaze made Xiao Meng's cheeks flush red. She put down the bamboo basket and waved her hand in front of Zhao Xian, her big black eyes staring at him strangely.

  Zhao Xian suddenly snapped out of it, how could he have such an evil thought? This little girl was only 15 or 16 years old, her height just reached his chest, in the previous world, she would still be a high school student. Although she had developed quite well, she was also a genuine underage girl. At such a young age, she went out to work and reduce the burden on her family. Such a lovely and sensible girl, if he messed around with her, he would be struck by lightning.

  Zhao Xian's face was slightly awkward, and he smiled a few times, seeing Xiao Meng's face reveal a hint of shyness. He teased: "In just a few days, my little dream has become even more beautiful, I'm so infatuated that I've lost my bearings."

  "Hammer brother, you're talking nonsense again." Xiaomeng's voice was filled with reproach, her face burning like fire, she quickly turned her head to glance at the ironwork shop outside a few times, as if worried that others would hear, her appearance of being both shy and fearful was very cute.

  Xiao Meng was often teased by Zhao Xian, and the rumors about them spread throughout half of Nancheng. The women in the workshop would often joke about it, and Hu Yidao even called her "sister-in-law". Xiao Meng was a pure and innocent girl, how could she tolerate such teasing? Whenever she met Zhao Xian, she would avoid him from afar.

  Zhao Xian used the fire tongs to stir the charcoal stove in the house, and the fire gradually grew stronger. He threw some old iron tools into it, which were already unrecognizable as farm tools. Zhao Xian's usual work was making agricultural tools, occasionally also forging a few knives for cutting vegetables or chopping wood. As for casting divine weapons, that was the business of great masters like Ou Yezi and Gan Jiang Mo Ye. He would have liked to take on such work, but in Changzhou, no one dared to place such an order. Private manufacturing of military equipment by commoners was a serious crime, and it required official documents from the government to forge according to regulations.

  Xiao Meng saw Zhao Xian start working, busy squatting beside the stove, helping to pull the bellows. The handle of the bellows was as thick as Xiao Meng's arm, and Zhao Xian got tired after pulling for a long time. How could it be easy for delicate and weak Xiao Meng? Her pale face was lit up by the firelight, looking rosy and adorable as she panted lightly.