Book 1 Chapter 7

What is an ironworks?

I had been living with my master for over a year and a half.

On that day, I went about my normal routine of eating, doing laundry, chopping firewood and

As a bonus, I was practicing. Now, in my hut in the mountains, everything I do

I had gotten somewhat used to it. I swung a 50-millimeter cast iron clothespin bat at a

I could do laundry without turning into a rag, and I could pick up a 100-pound sledgehammer and use the

I could chop firewood with a stick.

That day, the master took me down to the village at the foot of the mountain, during which I had never had a chance to come down to the village because I had been plagued by endless domestic work with hellish muscle aches. It was a fairly prosperous village, and the master went into the largest blacksmith shop in town, and then into a room with the owner, who seemed to be discussing something very serious. I don't know how much time passed, but I heard the master's loud voice from inside the room. It seemed that what they were doing was not going well.

"Why not!"

The master seemed to be overcome with emotion.

"You're a kid who hasn't even grown up yet, that's for sure."

"Bullshit, she's 15 years old, she's an adult. And she's probably three or four times stronger than a normal adult. You should have seen it yourself."

'What? I'm only 12 years old……. Did the master get my age wrong? That can't be right, can it?

I hear my master's angry voice again, as if I had lied to him by raising my age by three years. What is he angry about now?

"Two silver pieces is too cheap anyway! He's asking for three silver pieces and a special allowance. Not surprising, considering his abilities."

"That's too expensive, how about a special allowance for two silver coins?"

"Oh, no. She's not a normal kid! She can handle a 50-pound rebar like it's a toy, and she's more than capable of handling her share of the Long March."

"I think we're talking about a clothespin!

The room was filled with conversations that never seemed to end. I was still too young to understand what was being said. Once again, the master's loud voice came through the doorway. As usual, the ignorant man had a loud voice.

"Are you blind?"

"Of course not. Why do you ask if you know so well?"

"Then why are you acting like a blind man? One would think your eyes were some sort of ornament. Do your eyes not even see my fresh, virile, young body?"

There was a long silence in the room for a moment. The owner seemed to be lost in thought. But then,

"Okay, I lose. I'll accept your terms: you win the bid for three silver pieces, with a special allowance."

"Okay, I'll take him at that price. Good luck with that."

The room was filled with conversations that could only be heard in a child trafficking ring.

"Is he trying to sell me to that smithy owner, Inspirational Tai Chi?

'Is the smithy owner a pervert who enjoys handsome boys?

For a moment, my mind flashed with an eerie sense of unease. But then I realized that, in my sober judgment, it was something that could have happened, given his character.

"No, no, no, no, that can't be right, the price is too low, there's no way it's worth that much money to sell a handsome boy like me, even if it's just for one night……?

As I was thinking these thoughts, I felt ice cubes dancing down my back. A chill ran down my spine. I felt a chill. An unknown fear began to take over me. I felt an eerie chill and hugged my shoulders involuntarily. While I was pondering this, the door opened and the master and his wife walked out. The master then said to me, "I'm sorry.

"Ryuyeon, you will be working in this smithy from today. Work hard."

I doubted my ears at that moment. I was half right in my prediction that my master would sell me out. Though he hadn't sold me to a perverted grandfather-the old man's very appearance was enough to warrant such a misunderstanding-he had instead sold his apprentice to the most degrading of labor conditions. A blacksmith shop is the epitome of a shunned Samnan occupation. The three difficult occupations referred to dirty, hard, and dangerous work. Even adults shunned these occupations; there was no way they could work in such a place. His thoughts turned to action.

"Master, how could you do this to me, I would never… ugh!"

In an instant, he clamped his hand over my mouth with a hand the size of a stinking pot lid, and said to his master, "You're not going to believe this.

"Oh, I'm going to have a little chat with this guy. Shall we go, disciple?"

Then he dragged me to the back of a dingy building.

"No, child, what are you saying you can't do? This is all a method the master has thought of for three days and three nights to give you a test. If you can't overcome this test, how will you ever learn martial arts and become a master of chi kung? This is all an extension of your training. It's all for the benefit of your martial arts training. Don't talk about it, just work hard. All things become blood and flesh."

I was stunned. It was indeed a good fortune, a lucky break, a divine favor, that I had not drowned in the coinage at this time. As for wanting to give me a trial? The master seemed to be under a great illusion that all was forgiven by using the word trial. Besides, I couldn't see how it would help my martial arts training.

"What on earth are you talking about that helps me practice martial arts? I have no clue, and it's linguistic theft to try to guess something that isn't even there."

I asked him pointed questions via text, but he was unfazed and happy to answer my questions.

"Of course, as you work harder at hammering, your arms will get stronger, and your grip will get stronger. And your palms will become firm. You'll also learn patience in the process of working with fire and iron. Isn't that enough?"

It was one of those moments when the Sensei's trademark "train for anything" trope is wielded like a sidewalk chalkboard, but this time I was prepared to fight back.

"But crude and rough work like hammering like this will rough up your hands and dull your hand senses, and weren't you the one who told me that our sect's festival, Bi Liu Dao, is a martial art that requires delicate hand senses, and this kind of work will only hinder your training? You're not going to reverse your words now, are you?"

I smiled a smile of conversion. I looked at him with a look that said, "If you have something to say, say it," and he suddenly began to laugh out loud.

"Hmph, hmph, hmph! I'm glad you've thought of all that, but relax. Who is this master, a martial artist of the highest caliber in the world? How can there be no defense against such a thing? We have already made provisions for it. You can rest assured and devote yourself to your training."

His words became a spear of anxiety, driving into my heart. In a moment I felt another huge anxiety approaching me……. If he was preparing something, it was obvious. He was never up to anything good. No matter what he looked like, he seemed to have an innate knack for creating an infinite number of evil things.

"Stir… What do you mean, a backup plan, what is that?"

My tongue stiffened with anxiety, and even my speech trembled. I felt an eerie shiver run through my body, like a man with the wind.

"You'll know when you get home. Then work hard."

After saying this, Sifu unleashed a lightning-fast kung fu technique called phoenix flying, which was so fast that I couldn't catch it. This fight was also a complete defeat for me. There is nothing a loser can say. The only thing I can say is that I have a job to do here……. A master selling his pupil as a laborer? It's not possible, and it shouldn't happen, and for the low price of three pieces of silver. I could only curse my fate that I had to do this.

The name of the forge was Ironworks, which probably means a place where iron is transformed. It was the largest forge in the town and was also a weapon shop, producing not only farming tools but also weapons.

The ironworks specialized in making weapons, especially swords, and the owner, Old Man Zhang, was a renowned swordsmith, so the number of martial artists using the ironworks was quite high. Swords have a high added value, so the forge was earning quite a bit of money. The three monthly silver coins they paid me were worth more than the blood of a bird's foot.

The main customers of the ironworks here were a slightly larger sect in the mountains behind our hut, and an outpost run by the sect's inner circle of disciples, who were the most loyal customers of the ironworks. The sect was named Amifa, after Amishan, the name of the mountain behind us. I had heard from my master that it was a fairly large sect.

What was even more fascinating to me was the fact that almost all of the Mundo schools were composed entirely of women, and I couldn't help but gape at the number of beautiful women. However, I was disappointed when I realized that most of the women were bhikkhus, and I felt as if I had suffered a heartbreak. Although I had the consolation of my master saying that a fresh-faced Sokka disciple is something to look forward to…….

Amifa was a sword-oriented sect, so it seemed likely that a significant amount of swords were being supplied from here. The same could be said for the marker station, which was run by an Amifa disciple. Perhaps this village was under the protection of the local Amifa. Not surprising, since the village was located at the base of a mountain where the great clan resided. The people of this village could not imagine life without the Ampas. The Ampha was a part of them, all of them.

That was my first day on the job, learning the basics of the ironworks. I was told that a sledgehammer weighs at least 50 muscles. It was my own hammer, specially made for me by a master who was close to me. I was, of course, completely ungrateful.

But I surprised everyone by handling the sledgehammer with such ease that they laughed again at the idea that it was too much for a child. I had been trained with a 50-bar steel laundry bat, so it wasn't too much of a challenge. Having learned the basics, I headed home, not knowing what hardships and misfortunes awaited me hand in hand……..

What awaited me as I dragged my weary body home from the iron crematorium was my master's cruel smile-or so I thought-and a bag of beads. There were many different kinds of beads, all with a tiny hole in the center. The bag contained beautiful beads in seven colors of the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and purple. They weren't expensive jewelry, but they seemed to be made in a special way. As a result, the colors were very fine and beautiful.

"Master, what are these beads?"

Immediately curious, I asked him impatiently.

"As you can see, they're beads. I told you before, there are already ways to keep your hands from getting dull. These beads are one of them."

"It is one of them!" This meant there was another. Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine, and I shivered.

"What on earth can you do with these beads? I can't figure it out, this incompetent and unfortunate apprentice, so please teach me."

Hearing this, the master laughed and said, "I'll show you a demonstration." He picked up a red bead, and from his sleeve he pulled out a long, slender object: a thin silver needle about the length of a man's forearm. At the end of the thin silver needle was tied a thin thread.

The master grasped the silver needle in his right hand and flicked the marble in his left hand up to the ceiling. The marble spun around and flew through the air. At that moment, the silver needle in the master's right hand flashed; it was no illusion, no illusion, no illusion. In the space of a fraction of a second, the silver needle in the master's right hand made a swift and precise movement, and when it stopped, the master looked at the silver needle in his right hand, and to his surprise, the red bead he had thrown into the air earlier was there, glowing with brilliance. The tip of the silver needle, which had moved like lightning, had pierced the narrow hole in the center of the spinning marble with precision.

The ghost was about to wail. I stared at him blankly, my eyes as wide as fire glasses. No matter how much of a child exploiter he was, admiration was admiration.

The master smiled a rude smile, and this time he held seven marbles in his right hand and a silver needle in his left. This time he threw all seven marbles at the ceiling at the same time, and the silver needle in his left hand moved like lightning, and when it stopped, the seven marbles were again lined up side by side. Not a single one had been missed. The master had accomplished this feat with ease, using only his left hand.

He then demonstrated the same trick with 10 marbles, then 20 marbles, and so on. Finally, with 14 beads of each of the seven colors (red, white, blue, yellow, green, blue, red, yellow, green), he held 14 beads in his hand, two of each color, and tossed them into the air, then used a silver needle to skewer the beads. The threaded beads were arranged in the order of the colors of the rainbow: red, white, yellow, blue, green, red, white, blue, green, yellow, and red. He didn't make a single mistake during the demonstration, and that was just with his left hand……. That day, I didn't get the chance to make fun of him to my heart's content, but I thought he was pretty amazing.

"Ha, that's great, you could be an acrobat and still eat.

"This drill maximizes your eye strength, which in turn increases your hand accuracy and speed. And the most important thing is finishing. It's very important."

He released his left hand from the silver needle and grabbed the end of the silver needle with his right hand. The beads on the silver needle were threaded down the thread. A finger-sized wooden stick was tied to the end of the thread to keep the beads from escaping. I then cut the thread at about 30 beads. I then tied the threads together at both ends. With her skillful tying, there were no gaps between the beads. A necklace was born.

"You see, there are thirty beads in a necklace. No more, no less, and when you tie a knot, make sure it's a good one. We'll start with 100 beads per day, so that there are no gaps! Work hard!"

I had a strange feeling that I was dreading the end of his words. I couldn't help but feel like I was being cheated.

"Work hard, isn't that part of the practice?

At the time, I was so impressed with the master's skill that I didn't notice, but there was a great deal of corruption and intrigue behind this "beaded necklace making". The master was selling them to the general store in town for two coins per necklace. Or, to be more precise, he was getting beads from the shop and stringing them together to make a necklace for two coins each. In other words, it was a side business.

The side hustle earned him 200 coins a day, or 6,000 coins a month. Since 1,000 coins equals 1 silver coin, I was earning 6 silver coins a month. This was more than my monthly salary. Not only was the money-crazed master exploiting his pupil's wages, but as if that weren't enough, he was also pushing his one and only pupil down the rabbit hole of sideline work.

But holy shit, that wasn't the end of it, there was another "to be continued". At the end of the necklace-making demonstration, the master handed me a piece of wood and the ubiquitous flying knife, and then he told me to use it to cut a statue. No, not just a statue, but a piece of woodwork. Little wooden Buddha statues, wooden combs, pacifiers, trinkets……. These were all things that could be sold for money.

Since it was his first time, he said, he should try to carve one a day. And most importantly, you should be able to carve with your left hand.

"This, too, will help immensely to develop the fine and delicate senses of the hand. It will make up for any coarsening or dulling of the senses from the forge. Cancer, that is."

said the master. After all, he was an amazingly good speaker. Only then did I realize why he had brought me here. He must have seen my skill at carving in front of my parents' graves and wanted to take advantage of it. The resulting carvings - some of which could be called works of art - were sold in the general store along with silver necklaces, the smaller ones costing 15 coins and the larger, more elaborate ones - which took three to four days to carve - costing 200 coins. It was another side business besides necklaces. The master must have had a heart of gold that he planned to exploit until no drop of blood came out when he rolled me up and squeezed me.

When Guan'er accused him of child abuse and violating labor laws, the master had nothing to say. No one would come to his defense. Me? I would stand in the place of the accuser, but I would never stand in the place of the master's defense.

In this way, I had one main business and two side businesses that had nothing to do with my will, and this was the beginning of my bad luck and difficult life.