The Xu's Wood Carving Shop stood proudly as one of the top-ranked establishments in the outer city, frequently receiving high-value orders from the inner city. The demand for intricate wood carvings was immense and unrelenting.
From detailed landscapes to statues of Bodhisattvas and Buddhas, the shop produced works of exceptional craftsmanship. Occasionally, they even carved statues of obscure deities that Li Che had never encountered before. The laborers in the shop earned a meager fixed wage for transporting raw wood and finished carvings. The work was grueling, leaving little time or energy for anything else. Yet, for those skilled enough to rise to the rank of a formal woodcarver, the rewards were astonishing. A single finished piece could fetch at least ten taels of silver—a small fortune in the eyes of the common folk.
Li Che had once overheard that Master Chen, the shop's most esteemed artisan, had carved a magnificent Thousand-Handed Guanyin with a Child statue. The work had taken him a full month to complete, but it earned him a gold leaf worth one hundred taels! Such wealth was enough to elevate an ordinary person to a life of comfort and prestige beyond imagination.
Hearing such stories stirred something in Li Che's heart. Before, such aspirations had seemed like distant dreams, far beyond his reach. Becoming a woodcarver required years of rigorous training, starting from childhood. Talent and artistry were equally crucial. Most apprentices began their journey at the age of five or six, with their families paying for their instruction. By contrast, Li Che had joined the shop as a laborer at the age of thirteen, long past the ideal age to begin learning the craft.
He had once tried to teach himself, but his enthusiasm waned after a few days. How could he hope to match those who had spent their entire childhoods honing their skills? Watching a master carve was one thing; wielding the tools and creating something of value was another matter entirely.
Still, a flicker of hope lingered in his heart. He had recently acquired the Immortal Artisan Dao Fruit—a mysterious force that seemed to awaken latent potential. Could it grant him the talent he lacked?
"I should find a chance to try… Maybe the Dao Fruit has really given me the gift of woodcarving," Li Che thought, his pulse quickening at the possibility.
But the cold winter wind cut through his thoughts, grounding him in reality. He buried his ambitions and returned his focus to the task at hand. Transporting finished carvings demanded precision and care. Any damage—scratches or bumps—could ruin the piece and result in scoldings, or worse, docked wages.
Carefully, he wrapped a Six-Eyed Bodhisattva statue in layers of cloth and secured it tightly with hemp rope. The added layers would prevent friction or damage during the move. With steady hands, he carried the statue to the inner workshop.
Upon reaching Master Chen's workshop, Li Che gently placed the statue down and unwrapped it. Relieved to find it undamaged, he let out a quiet sigh.
"Master Chen, I've brought in the Bodhisattva statue. Should I fetch that large piece of Fraxinus wood next?" Li Che stretched his shoulders and offered a polite smile.
Master Chen sat in his well-worn chair, sharpening his carving knife with smooth, deliberate motions on a whetstone. His eyes briefly flicked to Li Che before returning to the blade.
"Yes, quickly. This time, I'll be carving a Nine Sons Embracing the Lotus. It's a complex commission, and the inner city nobles are rushing me to finish it," Master Chen said, testing the sharpness of his knife against his thumb.
Li Che nodded and made his way to the snow-covered courtyard where several logs of Fraxinus wood lay stacked. As his fingers brushed one of the logs, he felt an inexplicable reaction from the Immortal Artisan Dao Fruit—a faint, almost imperceptible sensation.
"This piece… It doesn't feel quite right for Nine Sons Embracing the Lotus," he murmured, frowning slightly.
Ordinarily, woodcarvers selected their own materials. However, during the harsh winter months, some entrusted the task to laborers. If a laborer chose the wrong wood, the carver might deduct wages as punishment. For Li Che, that meant more trips in the biting cold and even less pay—an outcome he couldn't afford.
Guided by the strange sensation, he ignored the first log and searched through the pile. Finally, he found a piece of Fraxinus wood that felt "right" under the influence of the Dao Fruit. With effort, he hefted the heavier log onto his shoulder and carried it back to the workshop.
"Huh? Not bad, Little Li. You've got a good eye. This wood is perfect!" Master Chen said, his surprise evident. The piece matched his vision for Nine Sons Embracing the Lotus almost exactly. A few initial cuts would reveal its natural structure, saving him significant effort in planning.
Li Che smiled but said nothing, choosing not to take credit for the find.
Master Chen, now in high spirits, began preparing for the carving. "Little Li, help me lift this onto the rack. I heard your daughter was just born… I'll pay you extra for this job," he added with a chuckle.
Li Che's eyes lit up, and he quickly complied. Tying the log securely with hemp rope, he hoisted it onto the metal stand with practiced ease.
"The inner city nobles have been commissioning more statues of boys and girls lately," Master Chen muttered as he inspected the wood. "It's probably got something to do with that 'Spirit Infant Master' everyone's talking about. Nobles and their trends… Always changing."
His voice trailed off, and he sighed. "Five days to finish this… This old body might not make it."
"But the pay's good. Guess how much this order is worth?" Master Chen asked, a mischievous smile on his face as he turned toward Li Che.
Li Che wiped the sweat from his brow and exhaled deeply. "With only five days to complete it… at least fifty taels, right?"
The difficulty of carving the Nine Sons Embracing the Lotus statue wasn't as daunting as the legendary Thousand-Handed Guanyin, so Li Che gave a conservative estimate.
"Fifty taels?" he guessed cautiously.
Master Chen threw his head back in laughter. "Fifty taels? Haha! Far too low—it's worth a whole gold leaf!"
He slapped the Fraxinus wood with his palm, and to Li Che's astonishment, a faint reddish hue covered Master Chen's arm. Heat radiated from his palm, surging into the wood to drive out its moisture.
The intense warmth spread outward, enveloping the room and making Li Che feel as though he stood before a roaring furnace. His breath caught in his throat as he processed the staggering value of this commission—one hundred fifty taels. Even more astonishing was the mysterious technique Master Chen had just demonstrated.
These master woodcarvers didn't rely on craftsmanship alone; they possessed something more—martial arts!
To reach the level of a true master, one needed internal energy, a skill that could be used to dry wood quickly, eliminating the days or weeks it would normally take. Infusing internal energy into their carvings gave the finished pieces a unique aura, a refinement that made inner-city nobles willing to pay exorbitant sums.
Master Chen glanced at Li Che, whose expression was a mix of awe and envy. With a playful chuckle, he asked, "Interested in learning?"
"If you want to learn, it'll cost you. You won't get top-tier internal energy techniques—those are reserved for the inner city and taught only to a select few. But here in the outer city, you can buy some basic methods left behind by the Xu family."
Master Chen paused, sharpening his knife once more. "Of course, even with decades of hard training, you might only develop a small measure of internal energy."
Li Che's curiosity deepened. "Master Chen, how much would these techniques cost?"
Master Chen smirked knowingly. "Top-tier techniques? Priceless. They're passed down through lineages or gifted only to the elite. But basic techniques?" He held up three fingers. "The cheapest starts at thirty taels. What's this? You're actually considering it?"
Drying the wood with rhythmic bursts of internal energy, Master Chen watched Li Che out of the corner of his eye.
"Your child was just born, Little Li. Save your money. Buying the technique is one thing, learning it is another, and mastering it? That's a whole different beast." His tone turned sincere, almost fatherly.
He leaned back in his chair and added, "You've got potential, a sharp eye for wood—shame you didn't start carving earlier. Still, if you're serious, come find me. I've got a technique I can sell you for twenty taels, just because you've been helpful."
Li Che smiled faintly but didn't commit. "I'll think about it, Master Chen," he replied before excusing himself.
For the rest of the day, Li Che threw himself into his work, helping other woodcarvers transport materials and move finished pieces. Whenever he had spare time, he assisted the apprentices, hauling smaller logs to earn a few extra coins.
The shop provided a simple lunch—hot but modest, enough to fuel his tired body. By the time evening came, he collected his thirty-five copper coins for the day's labor, worn out but satisfied.
Wearing a bamboo hat to shield himself from the biting wind and snow, Li Che stopped at a street vendor to buy some charcoal before heading home. The maze of alleyways that led to his house was shrouded in darkness, save for the faint glow of oil lamps in nearby windows. When he saw the warm light flickering from his own home, his steps quickened.
"Darling, I'm home!" he called as he opened the door and quickly shut it, keeping the icy wind from invading the warmth inside.
After adding fresh charcoal to the stove, Li Che walked quietly over to the small bed where his infant daughter, Xi Xi, lay wide-eyed and alert. The moment she saw him, her tiny face lit up, and she giggled.
Li Che's heart softened instantly. Gently, he picked her up and began to rock her in his arms.
His wife, Zhang Ya, watched the tender scene with a soft smile before setting a steaming bowl of noodles on the table. The aroma filled the room, a comforting end to a long day.
For a family as poor as theirs, Zhang Ya's modest contributions were the closest she could come to resting during her postpartum period. Not having to toil in the fields or perform heavy labor was considered a luxury.
After they ate together, Li Che insisted that Zhang Ya rest while he washed the dishes. Once everything was tidied, he returned to the room with a small piece of wood and a carving knife in hand.
"Husband, what are you doing?" Zhang Ya asked curiously, holding Xi Xi as she rocked her gently.
Li Che stretched his fingers, cracking his knuckles, and grinned. "I've been watching the woodcarvers at the shop. Figured I'd give it a try myself."
Zhang Ya raised an eyebrow, amused. "You've tried learning so many things over the years, but you always end up saying, 'It's better to leave it to the experts.'"
Li Che smirked, his expression full of confidence. "Wife, don't underestimate me. Haven't you heard the saying, 'Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river'?"
"I'm a father now. Things are different!"
Zhang Ya chuckled, shaking her head. What did becoming a father have to do with learning woodcarving?
Li Che didn't elaborate. He closed his eyes briefly, focusing inward. Suddenly, vivid images of the Six-Eyed Bodhisattva he had delivered earlier flooded his mind—its lines, details, and even the subtle techniques used to create it.
When he opened his eyes again, they gleamed with an unusual clarity. Calm and focused, he tightened his grip on the carving knife and made his first deliberate cut into the wood.