No announcement needed to be made for their arrival. As they arrived, the sound of the guqin cut off abruptly, and from behind the curtain came a voice, “What is it?”

“Fixer Liu brought in a guest who came to have their saber repaired. This guest is the eldest son of He Chunhua, the new Governor-General of Xia Province, Young Master He Lingchuan. Master Li says the job will require Wu Metal. Also—”

Before he could finish speaking, the voice behind the curtain interrupted, “Wait a moment, the new Governor-General of Xia Province is surnamed He? Wasn’t he formerly the Grand Administrator of Qiansong Commandery?” There seemed to be a hint of interest in his voice as he said this.

“Yes, it should be the same man. The young master’s attendant even boasted that State Preceptor Sun was defeated by Lord He and his son together.”

“Oh? I only knew that He Chunhua had risked his life venturing into the Panlong Desert and played a crucial role. And now his son had a share in the feat too?” The voice chuckled. “Is that the truth or mere boasting?”

“That, I cannot say,” Steward Zhao replied cautiously. “I only mind my own work. Master Li, stated that the broken saber that the young master had brought out was a spirit artifact, one with its spirit eye still intact. Master Li, please speak on this further.”

Li Fubo stepped forward and bowed before saying, “The spirit artifact that Young Master He wishes to restore is a ring-pommel saber of an older dynasty’s style. Its blade is longer and heavier than usual, and the pommel is carved as a flood dragon rather than the more commonly seen Yazi[1]. It broke one-third down from the tip. The spirit eye remains, and it is bound to its master, deeply so.”

“Its spirit remains awake even though the blade is broken?” From behind the curtain came the sound of a book being drawn from a shelf.

“Yes, it’s still awake, which is why to restore it, Wu Metal must be used, and the method of saber planting.”

“Steward Zhao, what kind of young man is this He Lingchuan?”

“He’s sixteen, perhaps seventeen, and he’s spirited and full of pride, not much different from any other wealthy young master. At that age, every calf thinks himself a bull. Humility is rare indeed.”

A short laugh came from the figure behind the curtain before they said, “Do you truly believe that an ancient spirit artifact would recognize a callow youth as its master?”

Li Fubo replied, “Perhaps he has encountered some unusual fortune.”

“This He father and son is intriguing,” the voice mused, drawing out their words. “To mend a spirit artifact with Wu Metal—well, that’s fitting enough, I suppose. However, He Chunhua was once just a poor frontier grand administrator. Can his son really scrape together that much silver to fix a saber? A pity. Steward Zhao, sell him another weapon instead. Give him a generous discount, call it Songyang Mansion’s gesture of thanks for his patronage.”

“Yes, that was also my initial intent,” Steward Zhao admitted. “But then the young master produced State Preceptor Sun’s violet-gold pestle, asking us to appraise it.”

With a loud snap, the book behind the curtain was shut. The voice rose sharply as he asked, “What did you say?! Sun Fuping’s violet-gold pestle?!”

Both men answered in unison, and Li Fubo added firmly, “We tested it. There’s no mistake. It is indeed that treasure, intact and whole!”

“How could it be…” The figure behind the curtain lost composure, but the rest was muttered too softly for them to catch.

Steward Zhao pressed on, “A treasure of such fame and acclaim. With the grand reputation behind it, if we acquire it, it could serve as the very hallmark of our establishment. My lord, we cannot let it slip away.”

Silence then fell.

The two men patiently waited for a reply.

At length, the noble behind the curtain said, “You’re right. We must not miss this chance. Steward Zhao, give him the Wu Metal, and add eighteen kilograms of gold paste for nurturing the saber.”

“My lord is most generous.” Steward Zhao bowed, and together with Li Fubo withdrew.

After they had gone, the man behind the curtain neither plucked his guqin nor read his book again. He only leaned against the couch, staring absently out the window.

Sun Fuping, what a man he had been. He possessed incredible divine techniques, as well as towering ambitions, and yet in the end, he perished in some desolate border desert, slain by an obscure provincial official. Even his beloved magical artifact had been stripped from him, now being hawked for coin.

Heh, his violet-gold pestle is actually being exchanged for money. If Sun Fuping were to hear of this in the underworld, would his coffin lid even stay down?

Still, what exactly happened out in that desert?

More than a quarter hour later, Steward Zhao returned, this time empty-handed. His words came hesitantly, “My lord, Young Master He demands an additional one hundred thousand.”

“What?”

“He said the violet-gold pestle is worth far more than Wu Metal and gold paste combined. He said that the exchange is unfair. So…” Steward Zhao coughed lightly. “Well, I argued the point, but Young Master He insists that the pestle is a hot commodity. If we won’t take it, he’ll simply bring it to another artifact sect.”

“You lost your composure in front of the violet-gold pestle, didn’t you?” The man behind the curtain sounded displeased. “That’s why the boy dared to open his lion’s mouth.”

Shame washed over Steward Zhao. Words stuck in his throat. He had been appraising treasures for years and prided himself on never letting delight or disdain show on his face, lest others take advantage of him. And yet the sudden appearance of the violet-gold pestle in the hands of some bumpkin had shattered that calm.

After all, this was the personal magical artifact of Sun Fuping—a former state preceptor, partner to the Minister of War, the very man whose downfall had nearly turned the capital upside down!

That fact alone was enough to make it a sensation, never mind its sheer might in the hands of an expert.

With a treasure of such weight, it is no wonder he faltered.

The man behind the curtain also understood this. After some thought, he said, “Very well. Give him another hundred thousand, and waive the forging fee. During the saber-planting process, have Li Fubo accompany him personally.”

Steward Zhao drew in a sharp breath.

When had his lord ever offered terms so generous? He ventured cautiously, “From what I can tell, this Young Master He only plans to stay in Shihuan briefly.”

“Hm, saber planting takes time. Have Li Fubo travel with him and finish the work before returning.” After a pause, he added, “I have several instructions. Convey them to him.”

So Li Fubo is to accompany the boy wherever he goes? Steward Zhao bowed deeply after hearing the orders, then turned to carry them out.

* * *

The reply Steward Zhao brought back took He Lingchuan somewhat by surprise.

In his own eyes, demanding only an extra hundred thousand was still on the low side. But according to Li Fubo, eighteen kilograms of gold paste alone were worth several thousand taels. And that paste was absolutely essential for saber planting.

Steward Zhao explained, “It’s like farming. You need both soil and nutrients. Wu Metal is the fertilizer or nourishment, and gold paste is the soil. One cannot do without the other. Normally, after buying Wu Metal, you’d still have to purchase gold paste separately.”

He Lingchuan thought to himself, Then what about hydroponics?

Fixer Liu leaned close to mutter in his ear, this time speaking on the other side’s behalf. “Young Master, having Master Li himself travel with you is a stroke of fortune rarer than lantern light at noon!”

That was what truly tempted He Lingchuan as well. Li Fubo would follow him until the broken saber was repaired, only then returning to Shihuan.

Songyang Mansion was a true artifact sect, and the Chief Grandmaster Artisan of the Central Furnace was a figure of the highest standing, like a peak elder in an immortal sect of old. Such a man would never casually leave to do outside work. Were it not for He Lingchuan producing a spirit artifact, he would not even have been granted an audience, let alone persuaded this man to accompany him north to Xia Province.

There was no way Songyang Mansion would have allowed it if it were merely about money.

Had he gone to another sect to mend the saber, there was no telling whether they even knew the saber-planting method, let alone whether they could succeed. And Li Fubo had already warned that saber planting could take months, perhaps even a year or two. That meant leaving the broken saber behind in Shihuan City and returning much later to retrieve it.

Over such a long span, who knew what accidents might happen?

Even if an artifact sect’s reputation was good, Yuan these days was anything but peaceful. Disasters and upheavals came every few months. Hong Xiangqian’s Righteous Army had nearly crossed the Hongchuan and threatened Shihuan itself. The Minister of War had rebelled not long ago and nearly seized the capital. If He Lingchuan left his saber here, could he be sure of ever reclaiming it?

More importantly, he had pinned much of his cultivation prospects on the Panlong Dreamscape[2]. That meant he could not be parted from his beloved saber for even a day.

So when the condition of Li Fubo accompanying him north was laid out, He Lingchuan knew at once he could not refuse. This was no longer a matter of money.

“Good, it’s a deal!” He Lingchuan agreed readily, pushing the violet-gold pestle across the table. “From this moment, this belongs to Songyang Mansion.”

Steward Zhao, beaming with delight, carefully put it away, then turned and ordered attendants to bring out the Wu Metal and gold paste that had been prepared in the back hall.

To He Lingchuan’s surprise, the lump of metal, worth over a hundred thousand taels, looked like nothing more than a black clod of coal, dull and lifeless, with not a trace of metallic sheen. If not for the fact that Li Fubo would be accompanying him personally, he might almost have doubted Songyang Mansion’s honesty.

Mao Tao gaped. “Th-this is Wu Metal?”

Li Fubo assured him, “Appearances deceive. Its essence is nothing like what you see outside.”

The gold paste, however, lived up to its name. It gleamed like molten ink of purest gold, without the slightest impurity. Steward Zhao introduced it with flourish. He claimed that it was compounded from a precise ratio of heavenly treasures and earthly rarities. Every sect had its own secret formula, with varying levels of potency. Songyang Mansion’s was, naturally, of the highest quality. It was first under heaven, fair and true, beyond question, and so on and so forth.

He Lingchuan accepted the two items and signed a contract with Steward Zhao. As the terms concerned Li Fubo, the chief grandmaster artisan himself added his signature and handprint. He then turned to He Lingchuan and said respectfully, “Young Master He, I look forward to your guidance from here on.”

He Lingchuan was all smiles, his spirits soaring. Who would have thought that a simple trip to mend a broken saber would end with him bringing back a chief grandmaster artisan? Curiosity piqued, he asked, “Your lord was far too generous. Shouldn’t I thank him in person?”

Steward Zhao faithfully relayed the message, “My lord says that fate will bring you together again. Young Master need not be impatient.”

He escorted them all the way to the front gate of Songyang Mansion before bowing them out with utmost respect. Li Fubo excused himself to pack his belongings. He stated that he would come to the He Family’s lodging at the inn on the following day.

Back in his carriage, He Lingchuan casually flipped a silver ingot to Fixer Liu. “Nicely handled.” Then he asked, “Are the artifact sects in Shihuan City always this polite to people?”

“How could they be?” Fixer Liu chuckled. “Daoist grandees barely give the time of day, even to high ministers of the court. Songyang Mansion might trade openly, but its reputation rests on fairness and honesty, not humility. I’ve dealt with Steward Zhao more than once. He usually looks down his nose at everyone. I’ve never seen him smile so obsequiously as he did today.”

In fact, Fixer Liu felt a surge of satisfaction himself. He then added, “In my eyes, it’s all thanks to the treasure Young Master presented. Even the Marquis of Songyang himself will have to regard you with new respect.”

He Lingchuan laughed heartily, smug and pleased. “So Sun Fuping’s reputation near the capital was truly something, eh? Even his magical artifact carries its own halo.”

“That was a state preceptor, the man who oversaw the very fate of the state! For over twenty years, even princes and nobles treated him with reverence.” Fixer Liu gave him a solemn bow. “For the He Family to have slain him, I can only say that it truly is a house of generals, one blessed by heaven itself!”

1. This is one of the Nine Sons of the Dragon. ☜

2. This was originally written as the raws for Panlong Illusion Realm, but I feel that he’s referring to the dreamscape here. ☜