Knock. Knock.
The sound came from the door.
His brows furrowed instantly.
"Who is it?" His tone was already carrying irritation.
"Teacher, it's me."
Si Long's voice came from outside.
Lou Gao's expression darkened. He had just opened his mouth to scold—when Si Long spoke again, faster this time, clearly having anticipated the reaction.
"Teacher, this is the blacksmith meeting you told me to arrange…"
Lou Gao froze. Then slowly, awkwardly, he swallowed the words he was about to say.
"…Ah."
Only then did he remember. In his excitement, he had completely forgotten about the meeting.
A faint cough escaped him as he straightened his robe, restoring his usual dignified posture.
"Yes… yes, of course. The meeting."
He waved his hand dismissively, as if forgetting such an important matter was perfectly natural.
"Tell them to wait. I'll be there shortly."
Si Long paused outside the door, clearly suppressing a smile.
"Yes, Teacher."
-----
Blacksmith Association – Gengxin City
Meeting of Blacksmiths
"…so I propose that, as blacksmiths, we participate in the upcoming sermon of the Angel Goddess."
Lou Gao's voice was calm, steady, and carried clearly across the hall.
He stood at the center of the meeting chamber. Before him sat the finest blacksmiths of Gengxin City—, the true backbone of the Blacksmith Association.
Some of them were old, some young , their hands thick with calluses.. All of them were listening.
A low murmur rippled through the hall.
One of the blacksmiths raised his hand hesitantly. He was middle-aged, his brow deeply furrowed.
"President Lou," he said cautiously, "isn't participating in that sermon equivalent to taking sides with Spirit Hall? What would the Star Luo Empire think of us?"
The question struck at the heart of the matter.
Lou Gao did not answer immediately. Instead, he scanned the hall slowly, letting the silence stretch just long enough to command attention.
"Yes," he finally replied, his tone even, "Spirit Hall will certainly view it as a gesture of goodwill."
A few people stiffened.
"But tell me," Lou Gao continued, "have you forgotten what happened after Bishop Meyers was punished?"
At the mention of that name, several blacksmiths exchanged glances.
"The bishop who replaced him—Bishop Roberts—did not exploit us. He did not extort us. Instead, he provided aid to civilians, reduced unreasonable levies, and supported the blacksmiths when raw materials were scarce."
His gaze sharpened.
"Is acknowledging that fact the same as becoming Spirit Hall's lackeys?"
He raised his hand slightly.
"We are blacksmiths. We survive on trust, reputation, and cooperation. If someone extends goodwill, we return it in kind. That is all."
"Why shouldn't we also extend our goodwill by participating in a public sermon—"
"Enough!"
A deep, thunderous voice cut through the hall like a hammer striking an anvil.
The doors slammed open, a towering figure strode in,
"T-tai Tan…?"Shock rippled through the room.
"I'm deeply disappointed in you, Lou Gao," Tai Tan said coldly.
"How could you stoop so low?"
He swept his gaze across the room.
"I am still the Vice President of the Blacksmith Association, and I will not allow blacksmiths to support enemies like Spirit Hall!"
The atmosphere instantly turned tense.
Lou Gao's expression darkened—not with anger, but with something colder.
"Tai Tan," he said slowly, "the Blacksmith Association is not a lackey of the Clear Sky Clan."
His voice carried weight now.
"We are a neutral force. We do not care about the personal enmity of the clan you serve."
Tai Tan's eyes narrowed.
Without another word, he reached into his storage soul tool and pulled out a thick stack of blueprints, slamming them onto the table with a heavy thud.
"Look at these," Tai Tan said, his voice rising.
"This is the future of blacksmithing."
Lou Gao glanced down. His expression barely changed.
Complex mechanical diagrams filled with gears, springs, firing mechanisms, pressure triggers—ingenious designs refined to deadly efficiency.
Anyone else would have gasped or been amazed. But Lou Gao merely nodded faintly.
Tai Tan had been sent here by Tang San.
After sensing the growing variables in this lifetime, Tang San had dispatched Tai Tan with a single task—use the allure of hidden weapons to pull Lou Gao under his banner.
Tang San needed Lou Gao. As the president of the Blacksmith Association, Lou Gao represented a stable, large-scale production chain—essential for mass deployment of hidden weapons.
But Tang San did not know—Someone had already beat him to it.
Lou Gao set the blueprints down calmly.
"The mechanisms are indeed novel," he said thoughtfully.
"They could serve as inspiration."
What Lou Gao did not say aloud was his conclusion after seeing the blueprints:
'Hidden weapons, no matter how sophisticated, are still tools of physical damage. They rely on craftsmanship and ingenuity, but their ceiling is fixed.'
'Soul Guides… are different. They operated on soul power, not springs. Their growth potential are more terrifying'.
To Lou Gao, the blueprints before him were clever. But the soul guide arrays he had seen were a new era.
Tai Tan's patience snapped.
His voice thundered through the hall.
"Lou Gao! You traitor! Have you already decided to defect to Spirit Hall?!"
However, before Lou Gao could reply an amused chuckle suddenly drifted in from the side of the hall.
"Wow," the voice said lazily, tinged with unmistakable mockery.
"If someone isn't interested in those… useless blueprints you produced, does that automatically make him a traitor?"
"Who?" Tai Tan barked, instinctively turning.
Only then did he notice a youth leaning casually against the stone wall near the back of the chamber.
Reddish-orange hair fell loosely around sharp features, his posture relaxed to the point of insolence. One leg was bent, his shoulder resting against the wall as if this heated confrontation were nothing more than street theatre.
It was Lu Ping, who had come to Gengxin City to purchase weapons from Lou Gao.
Lu Ping's eyes met Tai Tan's. There was no fear in them, only provocation.
As if silently asking—'What are you going to do about it?'