The Ancestor of our Sect Isn't Acting like…

247.1 – Preface, First Amongst the Myriad of Weapons

The heat of fire, the smell of coke, and the clear sound of metal striking metal.

All this is unforgettable, as if carved into her bones. In her childhood — no, even now, her life is made of them.

This kind of unchanging life may appear dull, tedious, and monotonous in other people’s eyes. And in fact, it made her lose something.

In the Hua Dynasty, men prefer women with fair skin. But, long term work in front of fire made her originally milky-white, delicate skin dark and rough, which is naturally not in line with their aesthetics.

Even though she is not yet unattractive, but she still hasn’t married, and even her suitors are very few in number. Every time she goes out with her senior and junior disciple sisters, she is particularly glaring, as if a black stain on white paper.

She is an ugly duckling among white swans.

At first, she didn’t care about other people’s opinions. But after years of imperceptible influence, she gradually felt a sense of inferiority regarding her appearance due to other people’s views and evaluations, which eventually led to her “almost never leaving the sect and having little contact with the outside world”. As a result, she invested all of hers into the things she loves.

Even if her life won’t be able to achieve what others call “perfection”, but she still enjoys it. If you really love something, why not invest more into it? She thinks it’s worth it.

— she likes forging and loves mechanism arts.

From that day on, this ardent love has never changed. It is entrenched in her heart. After decades elapsed, it has yet to show signs of erosion.

And it all started that night a long time ago.

How long ago? It was actually really long, so long that she already forgot.

However, she is able to clearly recall every scene from that time.

She remembers the warmth — the warmth of the fire, the warmth of her father’s large hand full of calluses — slowly seep into her chest on that cold, windy night.

She remembers what he whispered in her ear.

The words from that night are still fresh in her memory —

*

On a cold, windy night, a lass, who could not fall asleep due to the cold, left the room alone and went to her father’s workshop.

Her father is sitting by the stove, hammering at a scarlet sword billet.

Perhaps he is too focused on his work, but the man didn’t seem to hear the sound of the door opening, nor did he notice that his huddled up daughter has come in.

“Father, I’m cold.”

The lass tried to call the man.

Yet the man, who is focused on his work, didn’t respond. Did he not hear, or is he too busy to respond? The lass isn’t sure, yet she also doesn’t want to look into it.

The audacious lass, who didn’t get a response even after calling several times, simply bent down, carefully drilled in from below his arm, and arrived at the place that only belongs to her.

So warm…

The lass curled up at her father’s bosom and absorbed the other party’s warmth, as if a kitten curled up in a corner in a cold night.

She likes to stay here, feeling that everything here is really warm — her father’s bosom, the embers, the scarlet sword billet, everything radiates heat.

Although there is a little body at his bosom, but the man’s expression still remained unchanged. He is completely focused on hammering on the sword billet.

The rhythmic and resonant hammering fell incessantly. The lass gradually felt sleepy. However, instead of letting herself fall asleep, she tried hard to keep her eyes open and watched her father’s every move, for fear of missing any details.

A few months ago, the man began to teach her sword forging.

Seeing a mass of ugly material become a sword of uncanny craftsmanship thanks to her father’s skillful hands, she feels marvel and admiration. She wants to reach the same level of craftsmanship as her father one day — even surpass him.

Therefore, she wants to learn more, make progress, and forge better articles.

After folding and hammering who knows how many times, the sword billet finally turned into a sword. As long as the sword and the handle are connected, it can become a real sword.

The man wrapped the tang with thick cloth, held it horizontally in front of his eyes, and carefully examined it.

The broad sword body exudes a dark luster. Since it has yet to be sharpened, the sword blade lacks a cold sheen. Although the overall shape is simple and plain and looks quite ordinary. However, the waves that naturally appeared on the sword body are enough to prove that it is an excellent product that went through extensive hammering and tempering.

What a beautiful sword! The lass’s eyes lit up, and she couldn’t help but extend her head and gaze at the sword from up close, a look of excitement on her face.

In contrast, the man shook his head.

“Still won’t do…”

After a sigh, the man muttered helplessly and put the sword on the wooden frame beside him.

“Father, what won’t do?”

The lass tilted her head and asked this, puzzled.

In the end, without waiting for her father to answer, she excitedly gesticulated the motion of waving a sword and said to herself, “The sword is really beautiful! It will become a famous sword in the future!”

“Why are you here, Little Ting?”

As if he only now discovered the lass, the man showed a surprised expression.

“I was cold, so I came here! It’s warm here!”

The man shook his head helplessly. Then, his eyes showed the shade of affection, and he stroked the lass’s head full of red hair. Sensing the warmth from the other party’s palm, the lass giggled.

“Silly child.”

The man switched to kneading the lass’s little hand and said with a smile, “It looks like I have to buy you a thicker quilt.”

“Yes, yes! I want an embroidered quilt! The nearest village –”

As if thinking of something, the lass’s expression suddenly darkened, and she asked, “Father, do we have money? Mother said that we’re running out of money.”

“What! Is that true?” The man frowned, “Why didn’t your mother tell me?”

“Mother said that she recently had a bit of income by sewing and mending clothes, so she didn’t tell father about it.”

After guiltily looking around for a while, the lass sneakily placed a palm beside her mouth.

“Father, mother won’t let me tell you! Don’t tell her I told you!”

The man answered “okay” with a wry smile, and then sighed again and revealed an expression of embarrassment.

“I have wronged you guys.”

“Father, Ting’er wasn’t wronged!”

The lass stuck out her chest and answered firmly.

The man nodded and caressed the lass’s cheek, feeling gratified.

In the next moment, he cast his gaze upon the nearly-finished sword and murmured, “I’ll sell this sword in a few days…”