Film and Television: Starting with Using AI to Solve the Rare Chess Puzzle

Gengxin City, the metal capital.

This city is located in the southern part of the Douluo Continent, a giant city within the Star Luo Empire. The entire city is built with steel as its skeleton and ore as its walls, resembling a colossal steel beast crouching on the earth when viewed from afar. The sound of hammers resounds day and night within the city, as tens of thousands of craftsmen forge the most advanced weapons and soul tools on the entire continent.

It was dusk when Lu Ming entered the city. The afterglow of the setting sun shone on the steel walls of Gengxin City, reflecting large swaths of golden light and dyeing the entire city a scorching orange-red, like the depths of a furnace.

He didn't rush to find Lou Gao. The master craftsman wasn't someone you could just see whenever you wanted, and besides, given Lou Gao's personality, a hasty visit would only result in being turned away. It was better to collect some precious metals first.

Fortunately, the Xuan Tian Bao Lu (a book on hidden weapons) contained records of various precious metals. He mainly chose those heavy and hard ores.

Three days later, Lu Ming stood in front of the Blacksmiths' Association in the center of Gengxin City.

Like most houses in Gengxin City, this building is entirely made of cast iron, only much larger.

"Sir, who are you looking for?" The apprentice in the door looked Lu Ming up and down, his gaze sweeping over him. Although he was dressed in black without any extra decorations, his aura was that of someone of high status and wealth, definitely not an ordinary person. His attitude immediately became more respectful.

"Find Lou Gao!" After saying that, Lu Ming ignored the apprentices and went straight into the Blacksmith's Association. The apprentices did not dare to stop him. As the only master craftsman in Gengjin City, Lou Gao was naturally the strongest in his life. He directly followed the aura and found him.

Soon, Lu Ming saw a short, stocky old man with a head of messy, gray hair next to a furnace on the third floor. He was shirtless, wearing only a leather apron that was scorched and riddled with holes around his waist. His arms were as thick as two old tree trunks, and his skin was covered with scars from sparks.

At this moment, he was holding a huge forging hammer, constantly striking a piece of metal.

"Get lost, don't bother me!"

Sensing someone behind him, Lou Gao didn't even turn his head, and continued forging with even more effort using the forging hammer in his hand.

Lu Ming smiled slightly and slowly took out a large amount of metal from his storage space. He had picked it up from unsuspecting sellers, which showed how comprehensive the records in the Xuan Tian Bao Lu were.

Before long, the table behind Lou Gao was piled high with ore, like a small mountain. Just buying these materials had exhausted Lu Ming's savings. Finally, he took out a book and slowly spoke.

"I would like to ask Senior Lou Gao to help me forge two swords."

Lou Gao ignored Lu Ming; his gaze had long been drawn to the ores, including metals he had never seen before, such as the Cold Heart Iron Essence and Deep Sea Sinking Silver mentioned in the original work.

Lu Ming didn't disturb him, and just let Lou Gao look at the ore.

After a long while, Lou Gao finally raised his head and tentatively asked, "Can I use all these ores?!"

"Of course, since these weapons are being made for me, they should be the best!"

"Alright, you want to forge a sword, huh? What are your requirements?!"

As he spoke, Lou Gao took out a notebook and pen from his apron pocket and pretended to be taking notes seriously.

"The first one is a heavy sword." Lu Ming took out the Xuan Tie heavy sword from his storage space and placed it in front of Lou Gao. "I don't have many requirements for the blade. It just needs to be heavy and hard enough. It should weigh at least three thousand catties."

Lou Gao paused for a moment, then looked up, his expression not one of surprise, but of scrutiny: "Over three thousand jin? Can you even lift it?! And if it's too heavy, the inertia is very strong, seriously affecting its use."

"There's no need for you to trouble yourself, senior!"

Lu Ming smiled slightly and did not offer any explanation.

Seeing this, Lou Gao didn't ask any more questions and wrote down the requirements.

"And the second sword?"

"The second one is a soft sword." This time, Lu Ming's tone was noticeably more serious. "The entire sword is required to be as thin as a cicada's wing. It can be wrapped around the waist when not in use, and when drawn, it should stand straight like a pine tree—this sword requires the highest level of flexibility and rigidity at the same time."

Lou Gao laughed: "This is good, it's challenging, I like it!"

……

The forging journey officially began on the morning he personally swung the first hammer.

For the next twenty days and nights, the furnace in the domed hall of the Divine Craftsman's Pavilion never went out for a single moment. Lu Ming assisted Lou Gao in forging swords with a hammer during the day, and at night he sat cross-legged in his guest room practicing the Eternal Youth and Longevity Technique. After consolidating his cultivation, he began refining the remaining three immortal herbs.

When Lu Ming retrieved the heavy sword, which was entirely black and had a wide blade, from the quenching pool, the entire Divine Craftsman Pavilion trembled slightly under its terrifying weight.

The sword is four feet three inches long and twelve inches wide. It is so large that it could be described as a door panel. The spine of the sword is one inch and two-tenths thick. Its design is extremely archaic. There is no guard. The blade and hilt are integrated. Only the hilt is wrapped with a layer of black anti-slip pattern made of fire silkworm silk.

The sword was dark and did not reflect light, except for a very thin, dark gold glint at the blade, like a squinting eye in the night.

The weight was slightly heavier than expected, and it finally settled at 3,800 jin (1,400 kg).

Lou Gao said, "I really don't know what kind of monster you are, that you can even lift a weapon of this weight."

For the past twenty-odd days, Lu Ming has been assisting with the forging of the heavy sword, as it was too heavy for even him to lift and he had to rely on Lu Ming's help.

Lu Ming gripped the hilt and lifted it gently. The 3,800-pound black iron giant sword felt as light as a feather in his hands, its tip tracing a slow arc in the air. He slowly channeled his true energy into the blade.

hum-

The greatsword trembled suddenly, and the surrounding air twisted and deformed under the pressure.

"A fine sword." Lu Ming exclaimed sincerely, putting the heavy sword back into his storage soul tool. "This sword is named Mo Yuan."

"Mo Yuan?" Lou Gao pondered for a moment, then grinned. "The ink is as deep and unfathomable as an abyss; a heavy sword with no edge, its great skill lies in its simplicity. That name is quite fitting. And the second one?"

The creation of the soft sword was far more difficult than that of Mo Yuan.

On the twenty-third day, the twelfth trial casting took place.

Lou Gao stood beside the quenching pool, holding a pair of quenching tongs in each hand, the jaws gripping a section of the sword blade that was so thin it was almost transparent. The moment the soft sword rose from the icy spring for the third time, no cracks appeared on its blade. The section of blade, as thin as a cicada's wing, gleamed with a very faint icy blue sheen under the glow of the furnace fire.

"It's done." Lou Gao's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper grinding iron. "It has both softness and hardness—as long as you infuse it with soul power, you can switch between softness and hardness at will. The thinnest part of the blade is less than half an inch. When straight, it can pierce through three layers of Soul Master-level iron armor. When wrapped around, it can be hidden close to the skin at the waist, vowing not to cut a single bit of skin."

He paused, then said in an unusually solemn tone, "I've spent my whole life forging iron, and this sword is my masterpiece. Give it a name."

Lu Ming took the soft sword. With a slight tremor in his hand, the icy blue blade rippled through the air like waves of light. He placed the sword against his waist, its blade naturally curving, like a gentle silver snake coiling twice around his belt. Then, with a gentle flick of his palm, the soft sword straightened abruptly, the sound of its tip piercing the air sharp as a silver needle piercing glass.

"Autumn Water." Lu Ming sheathed his sword at his waist, the blade sliding smoothly back to his waist without leaving any trace. "This sword is named Autumn Water."

Lou Gao asked him about the allusion, and Lu Ming only replied with a line from a Tang poem—"Autumn waters blend with the vast sky in one color." Lou Gao felt that this poem sounded too literary to a blacksmith, but when he glanced at the thin, soft sword that almost blended into the twilight, he felt that there really wasn't a better name for it.

Mo Yuan and Qiu Shui, one hard and one soft, one heavy and one light, respectively correspond to the concepts of "effortless mastery" and "heavy mastery" in his martial arts realm.

With two swords in hand, his control over Yin and Yang energies gained even more confidence—Mo Yuan's sword strikes were expansive and powerful, each strike possessing the force to shatter mountains and split rocks, suitable for overwhelming opponents with masculine strength; Qiu Shui's sword strikes were light and unpredictable, with ever-changing paths, suitable for weaving through the enemy's weaknesses with feminine strength.

The weight was slightly heavier than expected, and it finally settled at 3,800 jin (1,400 kg).

Lou Gao said, "I really don't know what kind of monster you are, that you can even lift a weapon of this weight."

For the past twenty-odd days, Lu Ming has been assisting with the forging of the heavy sword, as it was too heavy for even him to lift and he had to rely on Lu Ming's help.

Lu Ming gripped the hilt and lifted it gently. The 3,800-pound black iron giant sword felt as light as a feather in his hands, its tip tracing a slow arc in the air. He slowly channeled his true energy into the blade.

hum-

The greatsword trembled suddenly, and the surrounding air twisted and deformed under the pressure.

"A fine sword." Lu Ming exclaimed sincerely, putting the heavy sword back into his storage soul tool. "This sword is named Mo Yuan."

"Mo Yuan?" Lou Gao pondered for a moment, then grinned. "The ink is as deep and unfathomable as an abyss; a heavy sword with no edge, its great skill lies in its simplicity. That name is quite fitting. And the second one?"

The creation of the soft sword was far more difficult than that of Mo Yuan.

On the twenty-third day, the twelfth trial casting took place.

Lou Gao stood beside the quenching pool, holding a pair of quenching tongs in each hand, the jaws gripping a section of the sword blade that was so thin it was almost transparent. The moment the soft sword rose from the icy spring for the third time, no cracks appeared on its blade. The section of blade, as thin as a cicada's wing, gleamed with a very faint icy blue sheen under the glow of the furnace fire.

"It's done." Lou Gao's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper grinding iron. "It has both softness and hardness—as long as you infuse it with soul power, you can switch between softness and hardness at will. The thinnest part of the blade is less than half an inch. When straight, it can pierce through three layers of Soul Master-level iron armor. When wrapped around, it can be hidden close to the skin at the waist, vowing not to cut a single bit of skin."

He paused, then said in an unusually solemn tone, "I've spent my whole life forging iron, and this sword is my masterpiece. Give it a name."

Lu Ming took the soft sword. With a slight tremor in his hand, the icy blue blade rippled through the air like waves of light. He placed the sword against his waist, its blade naturally curving, like a gentle silver snake coiling twice around his belt. Then, with a gentle flick of his palm, the soft sword straightened abruptly, the sound of its tip piercing the air sharp as a silver needle piercing glass.

"Autumn Water." Lu Ming sheathed his sword at his waist, the blade sliding smoothly back to his waist without leaving any trace. "This sword is named Autumn Water."

Lou Gao asked him about the allusion, and Lu Ming only replied with a line from a Tang poem—"Autumn waters blend with the vast sky in one color." Lou Gao felt that this poem sounded too literary to a blacksmith, but when he glanced at the thin, soft sword that almost blended into the twilight, he felt that there really wasn't a better name for it.

Mo Yuan and Qiu Shui, one hard and one soft, one heavy and one light, respectively correspond to the concepts of "effortless mastery" and "heavy mastery" in his martial arts realm.

With two swords in hand, his control over Yin and Yang energies gained even more confidence—Mo Yuan's sword strikes were expansive and powerful, each strike possessing the force to shatter mountains and split rocks, suitable for overwhelming opponents with masculine strength; Qiu Shui's sword strikes were light and unpredictable, with ever-changing paths, suitable for weaving through the enemy's weaknesses with feminine strength.

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The sword was dark and did not reflect light, except for a very thin, dark gold glint at the blade, like a squinting eye in the night.

The weight was slightly heavier than expected, and it finally settled at 3,800 jin (1,400 kg).

Lou Gao said, "I really don't know what kind of monster you are, that you can even lift a weapon of this weight."

For the past twenty-odd days, Lu Ming has been assisting with the forging of the heavy sword, as it was too heavy for even him to lift and he had to rely on Lu Ming's help.

Lu Ming gripped the hilt and lifted it gently. The 3,800-pound black iron giant sword felt as light as a feather in his hands, its tip tracing a slow arc in the air. He slowly channeled his true energy into the blade.

hum-

The greatsword trembled suddenly, and the surrounding air twisted and deformed under the pressure.

"A fine sword." Lu Ming exclaimed sincerely, putting the heavy sword back into his storage soul tool. "This sword is named Mo Yuan."

"Mo Yuan?" Lou Gao pondered for a moment, then grinned. "The ink is as deep and unfathomable as an abyss; a heavy sword with no edge, its great skill lies in its simplicity. That name is quite fitting. And the second one?"

The creation of the soft sword was far more difficult than that of Mo Yuan.

On the twenty-third day, the twelfth trial casting took place.

Lou Gao stood beside the quenching pool, holding a pair of quenching tongs in each hand, the jaws gripping a section of the sword blade that was so thin it was almost transparent. The moment the soft sword rose from the icy spring for the third time, no cracks appeared on its blade. The section of blade, as thin as a cicada's wing, gleamed with a very faint icy blue sheen under the glow of the furnace fire.

"It's done." Lou Gao's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper grinding iron. "It has both softness and hardness—as long as you infuse it with soul power, you can switch between softness and hardness at will. The thinnest part of the blade is less than half an inch. When straight, it can pierce through three layers of Soul Master-level iron armor. When wrapped around, it can be hidden close to the skin at the waist, vowing not to cut a single bit of skin."

He paused, then said in an unusually solemn tone, "I've spent my whole life forging iron, and this sword is my masterpiece. Give it a name."

Lu Ming took the soft sword. With a slight tremor in his hand, the icy blue blade rippled through the air like waves of light. He placed the sword against his waist, its blade naturally curving, like a gentle silver snake coiling twice around his belt. Then, with a gentle flick of his palm, the soft sword straightened abruptly, the sound of its tip piercing the air sharp as a silver needle piercing glass.

"Autumn Water." Lu Ming sheathed his sword at his waist, the blade sliding smoothly back to his waist without leaving any trace. "This sword is named Autumn Water."

Lou Gao asked him about the allusion, and Lu Ming only replied with a line from a Tang poem—"Autumn waters blend with the vast sky in one color." Lou Gao felt that this poem sounded too literary to a blacksmith, but when he glanced at the thin, soft sword that almost blended into the twilight, he felt that there really wasn't a better name for it.

Mo Yuan and Qiu Shui, one hard and one soft, one heavy and one light, respectively correspond to the concepts of "effortless mastery" and "heavy mastery" in his martial arts realm.

With two swords in hand, his control over Yin and Yang energies gained even more confidence—Mo Yuan's sword strikes were expansive and powerful, each strike possessing the force to shatter mountains and split rocks, suitable for overwhelming opponents with masculine strength; Qiu Shui's sword strikes were light and unpredictable, with ever-changing paths, suitable for weaving through the enemy's weaknesses with feminine strength.