The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

Liang Huaiji gently covered him with a fur coat, stepped aside, but looked through the carriage window toward Chenzhou.

There, a young man had just narrowly escaped death, completely unaware of the guilt and tenderness hidden in the eyes of the high and mighty emperor as he looked at him.

The carriage disappeared into the night.

In the distance, the lights of Chenzhou City gradually dimmed, except for a lone lamp stubbornly burning on the upper floor of the Xiange family's house, as if it were the only warmth in this long night.

Laomentan, Lü Mansion.

Only after the emperor's figure had completely disappeared from sight did Lü Sanjun collapse into the armchair, as if all his bones had been removed. He gasped for breath, wiping the cold sweat and grease from his face with his sleeve, his voice trembling: "Nephew...we...we just...truly...walked on the brink of death! My heart was pounding in my chest..."

Wang Zhonghua stood still, feeling the lingering, brand-like sensation of the gentle pat on his shoulder. His heart was filled with turbulent emotions, far exceeding the calm he had just displayed.

Success… he'd passed the test for now. He thought to himself. The emperor's silence was the best response. That gentle pat was worth a thousand words of praise. It meant that his name, Wang Zhonghua, had officially entered the emperor's field of vision, leaving a positive impression of him as "capable, knowing when to advance and retreat, understanding the big picture, and reliable." Especially his proactive offering of the "steel" technology, his expression of support for Di Qing, and his willingness to accept supervision undoubtedly greatly reduced the emperor's suspicions.

The mystery of Di Qing's demotion, the reason for Ouyang's appearance, the emperor's secret visit to the Lü residence… all these clues seem to point to one possibility—the emperor is playing a grand game, and Chenzhou, and even myself, Wang Zhonghua, may be an unexpected, but perhaps crucial, pawn in this game. Wang Zhonghua's thoughts raced. Chen Shimei… his good days are probably numbered. And my opportunity may lie in this turbulent turn of events.

He knew that after today's "question and answer," his path had changed. He not only had to continue cultivating his roots in Chenzhou, but also had to be ready at all times to meet the call from Bianjing, or... a storm.

Right now, the most important thing is to make good use of the powerlessness brought about by the emperor's "gentle tap" and consolidate our foundation as soon as possible. The matter of Lü Sanjun's illegitimate son must be put on the agenda immediately! This is not only to consolidate the alliance, but also the key to potentially uncovering more secrets of the Lü family and even Chenzhou.

A sharp glint flashed in his eyes, and his previous thoughts became clearer. He turned and helped up Lü Sanjun, who was still shaken, and said in a steady tone, "Master Lü, there's no need to panic. His Majesty's mind is enlightened and he will make a wise decision. Let's think about how to answer His Majesty's questions... well, how to do our own work better."

He deliberately obscured the "His Majesty's instructions," leaving Lü Sanjun with endless room for imagination, and also cloaking his subsequent actions in a veil of "imperial decree." This veil might have an unexpected and remarkable effect at the upcoming "victory celebration banquet."

Wangjiagang.

After a flurry of activity, steward Shen Zhou and Shen Kuo rested. Wang Zhonghua stood by the window, gazing into the distance, and suddenly recalled the complex emotions that flashed in Emperor Renzong's eyes when he patted him on the shoulder.

That look in his eyes didn't seem like he was looking at a subject.

It's more like a father looking at his long-lost child.

He shook his head, banishing the absurd thought from his mind.

The night wind was biting, so he closed the window and went back to the bedside.

On the table, the Snow-Singing Blade lay quietly, its blade reflecting the candlelight, as if it too were telling a story.

Outside the window, the moonlight is reflected in the half-acre pond, shimmering and dreamlike.

In the distance, the faint sound of the night watchman's clapper could be heard, thud, thud, thud—it was the third watch of the night.

This night is destined to be sleepless.

The 22nd day of the twelfth lunar month marks the approach of the Little New Year.

Chenzhou City seemed to be gently coated with a warm glow by an invisible hand, bathed in the warmth of the sun and the smoke from cooking fires. In the streets and alleys, mischievous children, dressed in newly padded cotton coats, chased after the sporadic exploding firecrackers, their cheerful laughter startling the chirping sparrows under the eaves. New peachwood charms began to be pasted on the lintels of every household, and the air was filled with the sweet aroma of boiling maltose and the rich fragrance of stewed meat, whetting the appetites of everyone. Women surrounded the peddler's stall, selecting New Year's pictures and paper-cut window decorations; the sounds of bargaining and neighborly greetings blended into a lively and peaceful symphony of the year's end.

Sanyizhai, Wangjiagang.

Although the trauma of the banditry had not fully healed, the anticipation of the New Year, like tenacious weeds, sprouted anew amidst the ruins. The newly built Wang Family Manor was filled with a busy and festive atmosphere. Maids and servants moved swiftly, sweeping the courtyards, wiping the windows, and carefully pasting red paper-cuts bearing the character "福" (fortune) onto the windows. In the kitchen, steam billowed, and Yao, wearing an apron, personally supervised the steaming of New Year's cakes and the smoking of cured meat. Her face flushed with busy work, but her eyes and brows couldn't hide the satisfaction of overcoming hardship.

Wang Zhuacai remained silent, pacing back and forth in the newly renovated courtyard with his hands behind his back. His rough fingers brushed against the newly painted pillars, touched the thick cotton cloth drying on bamboo poles, ready to be used to make new clothes, and a barely perceptible tremor appeared on his usually placid face. He squatted down, looking at the pile of plump fireworks that Wang Zhonghua had specially arranged to be purchased from out of town, and carefully fiddled with them with his calloused hands, letting out a very soft, almost sighing "hmm." This was the highest level of joy and satisfaction he could express. This home finally felt like a home again, and more so than any other New Year's Eve in his memory—a home that felt stable and prosperous.

Just then, a lively exchange of greetings came from outside the door; it was Shen Zhou welcoming and seeing off guests.

Liu Jueming, dressed in a clean blue cloth robe, looked energetic and vigorous, while Liu Xinyize, wearing simple winter clothes and carrying an exquisite medicine box, resembled a fairy in the snow.

"Brother Wang, Sister Yao, this old man and his granddaughter have come to bother you!" Liu Jueming's voice was booming as he smiled and cupped his hands. "I heard that you are celebrating the New Year and that your daughter, Xiangjun, is going to the capital. I have come to share in the joy and bring some sachets for Xiangjun to keep warm and ward off the plague. The journey to the capital is long, so it is better to be prepared."

Madam Yao hurriedly stepped forward and warmly took Liu Xinyi's hand: "Dr. Liu, Miss Xinyi, please come in! It's so cold, and you still think of Xiangjun. I'm so sorry." Looking at Liu Xinyi's beautiful and refined appearance, she liked her more and more. The sorrow in her heart caused by the separation seemed to be diluted by the sudden liveliness.

Wang Xiangjun ran over excitedly, sweetly calling out "Grandpa Liu" and "Sister Xinyi," and looked at the medicine box with curiosity. Liu Xinyi smiled and opened the medicine box, taking out several exquisitely embroidered sachets with a delicate medicinal fragrance. She explained the purpose of each sachet in a soft voice, which made Wang Xiangjun exclaim in amazement.

Wang Zhuacai also showed a rare smile, nodding to Liu Jueming as a greeting. The arrival of the grandfather and grandson immediately added a touch of life and warmth to the manor.

Meanwhile, at the blacksmith shop in Lüjiachang, a different scene of jubilation unfolded. Although it was nominally under the supervision of the imperial court, and Di Qing had sent a quartermaster to make contact and station a small number of soldiers for protection, the actual operation was still led by Old Qin and his daughter Qin Tiehua.

The furnace fire burned brighter than usual, and the clanging of the hammer was particularly loud and powerful. Qin the blacksmith, shirtless and sweating profusely, grinned foolishly at a piece of "steel" blank that had just been quenched and gleamed with a cold, bluish light.

"Damn it! From now on, the knives we forge openly will be for our border brothers! For cutting down the Western Xia barbarians! That's what we call a proper use!" an old blacksmith roared excitedly, swinging his hammer forcefully.

"Yes! We don't have to sneak around anymore! We're government employees now!" another young apprentice excitedly chimed in.

Qin Tiehua stood to the side, polishing the "Snow Chant" sword in her hand, a slight smile playing on her lips. Although her brother, Qin Tiedan, had followed Di Qing to Zhanghua Terrace, causing her some concern, the scene before her filled her with genuine joy. The hard work of her father, daughter, and many blacksmiths had finally found a wider and more glorious purpose. Looking towards Wangjiagang, her admiration for Wang Zhonghua deepened. If it weren't for his persistence and planning, where would the Qin family blacksmith shop be today?

However, beneath this joy and hope, an inexplicable undercurrent was still surging.

Look, deep within the Wang family manor, in Wang Zhonghua's study, a tense atmosphere permeates the air, as if a volcano is about to erupt—

A victory celebration banquet fraught with danger!