The smithy came into view as Shuhang and his family approached. Its worn stone structure stood firm, with thick wooden beams supporting a sloped roof darkened by years of soot. The open windows allowed plumes of smoke to escape, curling into the air and dispersing into the clear blue sky. The rhythmic clang of metal striking metal echoed, blending with the faint crackle of the furnace inside—a familiar, almost comforting sound to Shuhang.
Even from the road, the heat emanating from the forge could be felt, carrying with it the scent of burning coal and molten metal. This was a place where sweat and effort turned raw materials into tools of survival and power.
As they stepped closer, Shuhang spotted his grandfather, Song Yu, working diligently inside the smithy. His wiry frame belied his strength as he swung a hammer with practiced precision. The older man was surrounded by glowing ingots and partially completed armor pieces, while two assistants scurried about, fetching tools and stoking the fire.
The smithy wasn't large or luxurious, but it had begun to earn a reputation in the city, thanks to Shuhang's contributions. Before his involvement, it was known for producing average weapons and armor suitable for commoners and low-level adventurers. But ever since Shuhang started sharing his knowledge of metallurgy and design, their products had become a topic of discussion even among wealthier patrons.
The innovations were subtle yet impactful. Shuhang had introduced alloys that made the equipment lighter but sturdier, designs that improved functionality without compromising durability, and traps and tools that offered tactical advantages in the field. These changes turned the smithy into a hidden gem in the competitive market of the city.
The Song family's smithy had grown famous for its durable and innovative creations. Their unique designs, such as the Snake Sword that could extend and coil around an enemy, and the Wasp Stinger Gauntlets laced with poison, were highly sought after. They were also known for crafting explosive ceramic bombs and lightweight but robust capture nets. Yet, their most prized work remained their armor, meticulously designed for durability and utility.
Despite this success, the Song family remained cautious, keeping the full extent of Shuhang's innovations a closely guarded secret. They feared that revealing too much could invite envy, theft, or worse. Shuhang had plans to expand their influence, but he knew it was better to wait until he reached the Foundation Realm before taking bold steps.
Even now, Shuhang noticed a particularly intricate armor set on his grandfather's anvil. It was designed for a high-paying customer, likely a hunter or adventurer preparing for a dangerous expedition. The armor was sleek and reinforced at vital points while remaining flexible enough for agility.
This wasn't just any armor—it was part of a modular set. When combined with a matching shield and additional attachments, it could transform into a defensive ball covered in spikes. The wearer could roll into enemies, causing massive damage while staying protected. The complexity of the design meant it required painstaking effort and time, but the payoff was worth it, both in terms of payment and reputation.
While Song Yu focused on the high-profile project, Shuhang's father, Song Wuji, got to work on fulfilling other orders. He moved with the quiet confidence of a seasoned blacksmith, his hands steady and deliberate. Meanwhile, Shuhang was assigned the simpler tasks—crafting swords, daggers, and other common weapons. Though his skills surpassed his father's and grandfather's, they insisted on keeping this a secret. Letting the world know of his true abilities could draw unwanted attention, something the family couldn't afford.
Shuhang's younger brother, Song Shou, worked beside him. At ten years old, the boy was still learning the basics, but under Shuhang's guidance, he was quickly improving. Shuhang delegated much of the preliminary work to his brother, stepping in only to correct mistakes or handle more delicate tasks.
The smithy wasn't bustling with customers yet, but the assistant at the front counter, Li, was busy handling inquiries and taking notes for future orders. Most days were peaceful, with the occasional rush of patrons during peak hours. But there were times when trouble found its way to their door.
Shuhang's focus was broken by raised voices coming from the front of the shop. His brow furrowed as he exchanged a glance with Song Shou, then wiped his hands on a cloth and walked toward the source of the commotion.
At the counter, he saw Li engaged in a heated argument with a group of well-dressed young men. Their fine clothing and polished weapons marked them as members of a wealthy family. Shuhang's heart sank. He recognized them immediately.
The leader of the group was a tall, arrogant young man wearing an embroidered tunic and a belt adorned with decorative metal plates. His companions stood behind him, their expressions ranging from disdainful to amused.
"Is there a problem here?" Shuhang asked, stepping forward. His tone was calm, but there was a hint of wariness in his voice.
The leader turned to him, sizing him up with a sneer. "And who are you supposed to be?"
"I'm Song Shuhang," he replied evenly. "The grandson of the owner and one of the blacksmiths. If there's an issue, I'd be happy to resolve it."
The young man's sneer deepened. "A blacksmith? You're barely more than a child. No wonder this place produces garbage."
Shuhang's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to stay composed. "I apologize if you've had a bad experience. May I know what the issue is?"
The noble crossed his arms. "I bought a sword here yesterday. It broke the first time I used it. I want my money back."
Shuhang nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. If you could show me the sword, I can inspect it and—"
"You dare question me?" the noble snapped, cutting him off.
"No, sir," Shuhang replied, his voice steady. "I simply want to understand the problem to ensure it doesn't happen again."
"Hmph. I don't carry trash with me. My servant will bring it later. Just give me my refund now. I don't have time to visit this filthy place again."
Shuhang's hands clenched at his sides, but he kept his tone polite. "Of course. May I ask which sword it was?"
The noble described a double-bladed sword that could split into two smaller blades—a unique design and one of their more expensive products. Shuhang silently calculated the loss but knew arguing would only make things worse. He retrieved the amount and handed it over without protest.
The noble snatched the coins and smirked. "Stop selling low-class weapons and scamming people. This is your last chance. If I hear of this happening again, I'll have this shop shut down."
With that, he turned on his heel and strode out, his friends laughing and jeering as they followed.
Shuhang stood silently, his fists clenched and his face a mask of frustration. His father, Song Wuji, approached and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"You handled that well," his father said. "It's hard to swallow, but you did the right thing. One day, we'll rise high enough that no one will dare look down on us."
Shuhang took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. "I'll make sure of it, Father. No one will treat us like this again."
Though the anger still simmered within him, Shuhang resolved to channel it into his work and his training. One day, the Song family would stand above all insults and threats. He would make sure of it.