— The Emperor's Imperial Record, Entry No. 10 —
Michelle had entered the room again, as I was deep in thought. She sat by her husband on a wooden stool he had taken out for her.
"We need 300 silver in total. We've already put in 100 silver of our own money. The more money you bring, the higher your percentage of the profits, of course. If you're feeling generous, you can even add more than 300." The old blacksmith laughed, and everyone else in the room but me exploded into laughter with him.
Igor's was a low rumbling, and the old lady's a light, beautiful sound that should have come from the beak of a melody bird.
The old blacksmith continued, " The latest we need the money by is 3 months from now. How much do you think you'll be able to contribute?"
I thought carefully about how much I was willing to risk and how rare this opportunity was. 'Even if I lose all my money, I can make it back in another 4 months. If I miss this opportunity, how long till I get another one like it?'
It was risky, but the blacksmith didn't come off like a scammer, at least to me, he seemed too big-hearted for that and scamming a sect? That'd be suicide.
If I wanted to rise, I had to gamble.
"I'll give you 100 silver upfront and another installment at the end of each month for the next three months. That should cover my share."
I promised myself and my father that I would become a cultivator. This was the best opportunity I'd had in months. Rejecting it might mean rejecting my future.
This way, I wasn't missing out on any opportunities, and if anything did happen in my daily life, I'd be able to handle it. I didn't feel good having absolutely zero coins.
Big Randy's eyes shot up in surprise. Igor let his mouth hang open for a fraction of a second before closing it. Michelle stayed largely the same.
Big Randy had heard rumors, especially since the town had a lot of gossip mongers, namely his wife, that Khan was earning well. Still, he hadn't expected the boy to have more than 20 silvers to his name.
He immediately agreed, "Deal. When can I expect the 100 silver?"
"I can bring it later today."
"Alright, would you like a tour of my shop before you leave? She's the most beautiful thing you'll ever see." His wife's expression soured at his comment, but I politely declined, explaining that I'd prefer to take the tour later, once I had the money ready with me.
This wasn't just an investment. With this, I had made a promise to myself. I'd become a cultivator or die trying.
Failure wasn't an option.
Big Randy rose from his seat, 'Alright, let me see you off then.' I shook his hand firmly. Igor got up as well to see me off. "You've made a good choice, we've struck gold on this opportunity."
His wife promptly joined. I didn't know how she kept leaving and entering without my noticing, but she was carrying an even larger tray filled with piping hot biscuits. I took one, but my mind was already turning over the details of the deal.
"I noticed you loved the first batch, so I've prepared a couple more for your journey home."
"Thank you."
"If you're truly grateful, promise me you'll share your thoughts on them when you return, alright?"
"Of course."
I took the cookies with me, and later returned with the money. Now, I had 17 silver and 44 copper coins.
***
Little did I know, this seemingly simple choice would shape my future in ways I would never have hoped to imagine.
***
Yesterday, I wasn't able to get a tour of the smithy. Big Randy said it was "too dark to see it in all its glory," which sounded more like an excuse than a reason. Igor wasn't here.
So, today I was here at his place again to take the tour. He came outside with his wife to meet me.
By the time she arrived, I could already see the assortment of sandwiches on the tray she had with her.
The aroma of freshly made sandwiches filled the air, making my stomach grumble.
Granny Michelle's voice was warm but laced with the pushy authority of someone who wouldn't take no for an answer. "You've got to try these, young man," she said, thrusting the tray at me. She pointed to one of the sandwiches. "This one's open-faced—meat, cheese, veggies. Perfect balance. Go on, take a bite."
She looked at me like a bookkeeper watched his accounts, and gestured for me to hurry up.
I took a bite, then she gestured to another. "These are sops, but I've added my twist." The bread was soaked in Tari Tari sauce, a tangy concoction made from the Tari Tari fruit. It was rich, savory, and just a little sweet.
I proceeded to take a bite out of each of them and then finish them all. From the look on Granny Michelle's face, I didn't think she would let me leave till I had eaten them all."Come, Khan," Big Randy said, puffing out his chest like a rooster. His grin was so wide it looked like it might split his face in two. "You're about to step into the masterpiece of my life."He continued to walk forward, while I followed him, with Granny Michelle beside me, still offering me more food. I politely declined, but she wasn't listening. It went in one ear and out the other.
Big Randy pointed proudly to the forge. "Most folks use coal or charcoal, but not me. I've got astralember. You feel that heat? That's not normal fire, my boy." He looked at me like a proud parent, with expectant, big, puppy-dog eyes, waiting for me to gush over his genius. I nodded, I was even starting to sweat a bit, and he beamed once he saw my expression.
"See that there?" Big Randy pointed at a contraption with more pride than a father showing off his firstborn. "That's no ordinary bellow. Made it myself. Keeps the heat steady without me lifting a finger. Ain't another like it for miles."
Next to the forge was a water trough, filled with oil to cool down hot metal quickly.
The walls were covered in his handiwork—ironwork so intricate it looked like it belonged in a palace. He showed me each piece, explaining how much skill and effort went into making them.He didn't outright say he was a genius, though from his demeanor, I could see that was only because he wanted me to call him that.
I don't know how long I stayed there, listening to the man ramble on about his greatness. The forge roared in the background, its flames fierce and unyielding, a stark contrast to the dull ache in my chest.
I left the smithy. The chilly air reminded me that the world wasn't as warm as I thought it was.
Regardless of the steps forward I had taken, I still felt like a snail when I was supposed to be moving as fast as a hawk, and the acceptance of Huo Feng into the sect, while I wasn't, still stung, even if I tried to be happy about it.
My thoughts turned to my father. I remembered him every day, a good man. But he'd been forgotten the day he died. The thought of not fulfilling my promise made my stomach churn. Was that my fate, too? I couldn't stand it! "Impossible," I whispered to myself. I felt the words within me like a storm on the horizon.
I may not have been a cultivator, and I may not have had the privilege of a noble's birthright, but, surely, I could still carve out my destiny as a powerful merchant? A force to be reckoned with even in a world dominated by cultivators.
I wouldn't just be a merchant. No.
If I couldn't have qi right now, then I would have wealth, and when I have built up enough connections and power, I'll ask for qi manuals from cultivators themselves. This would be a path carved from gold and ambition.
The thought was audacious, almost laughable, but it clung to me like a second skin. I could see it now—the sprawling trade routes, the caravans laden with goods, the whispers of his name in markets and courts alike. Wealth was power, and I'd turn that power into qi.
I'd been born with nothing, but I'd be damned if I died with nothing.
My father's face flashed in my mind, worn and weary, yet still proud during his drunken moments. "A tiger does not father a dog," the old man had said, his voice rasping but firm, "but this old dog wants to father a tiger." The words had stung me at the time, a mix of pride and self-deprecation in him that I hadn't fully understood.
Now, they burned in my chest like a brand. My father had been a simple man, bound by the same chains that now threatened to shackle me—poverty, obscurity, a life spent bowing to those who thought themselves better.
But even in that poverty, the old man had dreamed of something greater for me. I hadn't done it yet, but I would. I'd make my father's ghost proud.
I'd start small—I'd started already. But I would grow. I would learn…to outthink, outmaneuver, and outlast anyone who stood in my way. The nobles with their bloodlines and the cultivators with their qi could keep their lofty heights. As for me? I would build my own ladder, one rung at a time, until I stood above them all.
***
Huo Feng sat next to a short, plain woman, who gazed at him like his eyes were stars. Her name was Zhao Pingping.
They held each other in a tight embrace, far from the prying eyes of everyone else. Soon, he would have to go on a mission outside of the sect, and these were one of the few moments they could get together without Hung Lee trying to take her away from him.
He didn't know when he would come back.
She brought a hand up to his chin, "Make sure you come back for me, alright?"