"Really?" Hee Lingchuan took it doubtfully. One look at the handwriting and he voiced his surprise, "Sunx Fuping wrote this?"

"Yes," Hee Chunhua said, shaking the notebook in his hand. "It’s a spoil of war, taken from his body."

The Black Water City Army had killed Sunx Fuping with the help of the Great Wind Army’s Heroic Spirits and the demons. Hee Chunhua would never pass up the chance to loot the former National Preceptor’s remains.

Hee Yue asked curiously, "What else does it say?"

"Divine Techniques and Spells, Pills, and rare artifacts—what some would call Demon Techniques." Hee Chunhua put the notebook away. "I was hoping to see if it recorded any military secrets."

Hee Lingchuan was also curious. "Did it?"

"No."

Having eaten and drunk his fill, Hee Lingchuan stood up to take his leave.

He had just stepped out of the garden when Uncle Hao caught up to him, saying earnestly, "Thank you, Eldest Young Master."

Hee Lingchuan knew he was being thanked for killing Nian Songyu and avenging the Yaozi Demon. He waved his hand dismissively. "It was nothing! That son of a bitch Nian wanted to kill me, too. Too bad for him it didn’t work out."

The following days were peaceful.

Hee Lingchuan slipped back into his role as a profligate heir, with plenty of people footing the bill for his entertainment and a flock of fair-weather friends. Whenever he visited the teahouses and opera gardens, a crowd was sure to gather, fawning over Eldest Young Master Hee’s peerless valor—how he’d braved forbidden lands, rescued his comrades, and slain traitors. Each feat was something no ordinary man could accomplish.

Over the next few days, Zeng Feixiong and the other officers who had returned from the expedition all received handsome rewards. Now flush with cash, they naturally hit the town to spend it. Since happiness is better shared, the tale of their adventure grew more and more fantastical with each retelling.

Naturally, Sunx and Nian were portrayed as wretched and cunning—the kind of villains who were rotten from head to toe. The Hee father and son, in contrast, were depicted as wise and mighty, leading the Black Water City Army to challenge the Sandstorm Season, battle the Resentful Souls of Panlong City, and emerge triumphant.

Hee Lingchuan was positive that the number of young maidens and wives throwing him flirtatious glances on the street had at least tripled.

Heroes love beauties; what beauty doesn’t love a hero?

A pity, then, that the Cultivation Technique he practiced forbade him from breaking his vows of abstinence.

One day, Zeng Feixiong introduced him to a Craftsman Shop. The shop had allegedly been in the same family for five generations, and it was where the officers of the Black Water City Army had their weapons custom-made and maintained.

Hee Lingchuan walked in and laid the Broken Blade on the counter. "Can this be repaired?"

The shop’s master, a red-faced man with a great beard, picked up the Broken Blade, his expression changing the moment he saw it. "What a blade... so vicious! I’ve been in this business for over a decade, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen such a Fierce Weapon. It’s broken in two, yet it still looks ready to devour someone."

Seeing their confusion, he explained, "Its heart is not dead. It’s like a toothless tiger—it still has its claws and its bulk. An ordinary person wouldn’t stand a chance against it."

He didn’t touch the edge of the blade, but he gave it two sniffs. "This saber has claimed at least several hundred lives."

"Five or seven hundred, I’d wager," Hee Lingchuan said with a smile. "This was the personal saber of Zhong Shengguang, the Commander of Panlong City."

Zeng Feixiong finally managed to get a word in. "This is the Eldest Prince of the Hee Mansion."

The tales of Eldest Young Master Hee’s heroism had spread through Black Water City as if they had grown legs. Yet, the blacksmith seemed not to have heard them, and upon hearing who he was, he waved his hands in refusal. "My apologies, but I cannot repair this treasure. It’s not just me—in all of Black Water City... no, in the whole of Qiansong County, I doubt anyone can."

Hee Lingchuan’s expression soured. "What do you mean?"

’Maybe it was a resonance of auras, but the more he looked at the blade, the more he liked it. He didn’t want to see it left unused.’

’And to be pragmatic, once repaired, the simple fact that it was "Formerly owned by Zhong Shengguang" would make it worth a fortune.’

"Legend says that Divine Artifacts possess a spirit," the blacksmith began. "While this saber hasn’t reached that rank, it has drunk its fill of human blood and is steeped in a vicious aura. Over time, it has developed a nascent consciousness. We call this the heart of the blade, or its eye." He picked up the Treasure Saber, pointing to the break for them to examine. "Look at the fractured surface. Do you see how it’s smooth and lustrous, as if mercury were flowing within?"

He gave the blade a little shake.

Zeng Feixiong stared without blinking, then nodded again and again. "It’s true!"

He had handled dozens of weapons, but this was the first time he had ever seen a fractured surface that looked like liquid mercury.

"The saying that blades have no eyes applies only to common weapons. When they break, they break. You can reforge them, patch them up, or at worst, melt them down and start over." The blacksmith gave a wry smile. "But if this Treasure Saber of yours is melted down, the heart it has developed will be lost. And if you simply try to mend it, it will never accept ordinary iron. It requires not only its master’s blood, but also Zhu Gold."

"Zhu Gold?" The name sounded familiar to Hee Lingchuan. He searched his predecessor’s Sea of Consciousness and actually found a reference. "You mean the legendary Zhu Gold from Kunyu Mountain, the kind used to forge Divine Weapons?"

His predecessor had heard it mentioned by storytellers in teahouses on more than one occasion.

"The very same. As for a treasure like that, I’ve never heard of it being found anywhere in Qiansong County."

Hee Lingchuan tapped his fingers on the tabletop, his expression troubled.

Just as Zeng Feixiong thought he was about to give up, Eldest Young Master Hee pulled a short pestle from his robes. "Take a look. Would this work?"

Zeng Feixiong was astonished. "Isn’t that National Preceptor Sunx’s personal Magic Staff?" ’Is the Eldest Young Master thinking of destroying one perfectly good treasure just to repair another?’

He ventured a careful reminder, "Eldest Young Master, this Magic Staff is worth a fortune." ’Even the Lord Governor was reluctant to part with it.’

Hee Lingchuan scoffed. "So what if it’s worth a fortune? If I can’t use it, what’s the point in keeping it?"

He and Hee Yue had both carefully read the page of instructions from Hee Chunhua and had tried them out, but the Magic Staff was too proud; it refused to respond to any of their commands.

Its former master was the National Preceptor. Having known the best, it would not settle for less; its standards for choosing a new master had naturally become lofty. As for Sunx Fuping’s own power, if his status as National Preceptor hadn’t been nullified, if the Panlong Secret Realm hadn’t suppressed his Cultivation, if he hadn’t been ambushed repeatedly by Hee Lingchuan’s group with City Defense Crossbow Cannons, and if the Heroic Spirits of the Great Wind Army hadn’t joined the fight—how could Hee Chunhua’s Black Water City Army possibly have defeated him?

’When it came time to choose a new master, the treasure clearly had no interest in these two weaklings.’

’Hee Lingchuan, of course, had no intention of indulging such an arrogant attitude.’

’If he couldn’t have it, he’d destroy it. Wasn’t it better to use its parts on the Broken Blade, a weapon he actually felt a kinship with?’

He shoved the pestle into the blacksmith’s hands. "Look closely. Is this beast-head pommel made of Zhu Gold?"

’On the road during their expedition, one of Sunx Fuping’s attendants had boasted that the National Preceptor’s staff was pommeled with Kunyu bronze, a treasure that money couldn’t buy. Could that be the Zhu Gold?’

Of course, those attendants had since been cut down by Hee Chunhua, but their words still rang in his ears.

The blacksmith was also astounded by Eldest Young Master Hee’s wealth. The item he had just casually pulled out was something a commoner couldn’t hope to obtain in several lifetimes of struggle.

He took the Treasure Pestle and observed it carefully. He then produced a Potion from somewhere, applied a few drops, and rubbed it repeatedly. After a long while of appraising it, he finally looked up. "Eldest Young Master, this is indeed Zhu Gold. But I can’t use it here."

"Are you messing with me?" ’First, he says it can’t be repaired without Zhu Gold. Now that I have Zhu Gold, he still can’t repair it.’