38: Chapter 38: Rejecting Ghosts

"Alright, that's enough questions," Jiang Hongli seemed to feel she'd said too much, waving a hand dismissively. "You're just a new apprentice who hasn't even fully grasped skin-tempering yet. Why worry about those immortals? Focus on mastering the Five Animal Frolics first, and try to put some meat on those ribs of yours as soon as possible."

The two reached a fork in the road.

Jiang Hongli stopped, pulled out the stack of silver notes from her bosom, counted them, and with a pained expression, pulled out several and slapped them into Chen Mo's hand.

"Forty-eight taels. Take it! Don't say this constable welched on a debt."

Chen Mo took the silver notes and tucked them securely into his own clothes, close to his body. This was life-saving money.

"Tomorrow morning, same place," Jiang Hongli tossed out the words, turning to leave. "Got a few cases, need a runner. You seem quick-witted, so you're it."

"Got it! Take care, Constable Jiang!"

Chen Mo watched the flash of red disappear into the night, the smile on his face gradually fading.

This trip was worth it.

Not only did he earn money and extend his lifespan, but he also pried out information about mages. More importantly, he learned the life-saving skill, Qi and Blood Enchantment.

Even though it was only at the beginner 1% level, the hardest step is always the first. With the panel, he just had to grind.

By the time he returned to the backyard of the blacksmith shop, it was already late at night.

Chen Mo didn't go to sleep immediately.

He lit an oil lamp and pulled a heavy wooden chest from under the bed.

Opening the chest, inside was a lump of blackish Ore.

Now that he had Qi and Blood Enchantment, ordinary mortal iron couldn't withstand many bursts. Although the red sword from earlier was decent quality, its blade had several new nicks after chopping the ghost.

If he encountered tougher opponents in the future and his weapon broke, that would truly be fatal.

"Better to rely on yourself than others."

Chen Mo took off his upper garment, revealing a lean but well-defined upper body.

He walked over to the simple Forging platform in the backyard.

He lit the fire and worked the bellows.

The furnace fire gradually glowed red, illuminating Chen Mo's youthful yet steady face.

He picked up the lump of profound iron essence with tongs and tossed it into the furnace.

[Skill: Forging (Novice 45%)]

*Clang!* *Dang!* *Clang!* *Dang!*

The crisp sound of metal striking metal rang out in the quiet night.

Chen Mo swung the hammer, each strike falling with a distinct rhythm.

This wasn't random banging.

He was trying to integrate the breathing techniques from the Five Animal Frolics into his hammering motions.

Inhale, raise the hammer, like a monkey stretching.

Exhale, bring the hammer down, like a tiger descending the mountain.

Each hammer fall wasn't just an exertion of force, but also a movement of Qi and blood.

Sweat streamed down his back, evaporating into white mist in the intense heat.

Chen Mo's gaze was focused and fervent.

He was Forging a blade meant only for himself.

It didn't need to be ornate, didn't need to be razor-sharp.

It just needed to be heavy enough, hard enough, and sturdy enough.

Capable of bearing his Qi and blood, capable of severing a ghost's neck.

That was enough.

As time passed, the lump of profound iron essence continuously changed shape under Chen Mo's hammer. Impurities were gradually purged. Its volume shrank, but its density grew.

Chen Mo felt his arms aching as if they might split, and the Qi and blood within him were rapidly depleting.

But he didn't stop.

On his panel, the proficiency of the [Forging] skill was slowly but steadily climbing.

46%... 47%...

This feeling of clearly seeing his own progress fascinated him, addicted him.

Finally, as the first hint of dawn lightened the horizon.

A heavy, dark straight blade blank lay on the Forging platform.

The blade was thick, with no guard. The hilt was wrapped in coarse hemp cloth. It looked like a flattened iron rod, uniquely ugly.

But the moment Chen Mo reached out and grasped the hilt, a sense of connection, as if through shared Bloodline, spontaneously arose.

He took a deep breath, mobilizing the last remaining shreds of Qi and blood within him.

*Hum—*

The blade vibrated slightly, emitting a low hum.

Although no red light shone, Chen Mo could feel that this blade could handle the strain.

That would do.

Chen Mo set the blade down and plopped onto the ground, breathing heavily.

Tired.

Damn tired.

But looking at the chunk of proficiency gained on his panel, the corners of his mouth stretched into a wide grin.

Overnight, his Forging skill had increased by 15%.

This was the terrifying efficiency brought by the increase in potential points.

Chen Mo stroked the still-warm black blade and gave it a name.

"I'll call you 'ghost rejector'."

Simple and unadorned, practical and low-key.

The faint light of dawn was just beginning to cast a pale glow across the sky.

Chen Mo was woken by the urgent need to relieve himself.

He rolled out of bed. The newly forged ghost rejector blade stood by the head of the bed, dark and heavy like a fire poker. He reached out and touched it. It was cold, rough, yet his heart felt settled.

Pushing open the window, a wave of air hit him, a mixture of rancid water, coal smoke, and the stench of urine. This was the smell of the outer city, the underlying scent of these chaotic times.

The alley was already bustling. The cries of a steamed bun seller were weak and listless. A night-soil cart rumbled "gulu gulu" over the bluestone slabs, leaving a damp, wet trail.

Chen Mo put on his dusty gray short jacket. He wrapped ghost rejector tightly in tattered cloth and slung it diagonally across his back. The weight of several dozen pounds pressed on his shoulders, but for his current physique, it felt like carrying a straw.

Just as he pushed open the courtyard gate, heart-wrenching cries and pleas erupted from next door.

"Grandpa! Don't hit my grandpa! Please, I beg you!"

Chen Mo frowned, his steps pausing.

It was from Old Man Li's house next door.

Old Man Li was a cobbler. He lost his son early, his daughter-in-law ran off, leaving him with only his seven or eight-year-old granddaughter, Little Grass, to depend on. The old man's health was poor—consumption. When he coughed, it sounded like a bellows. He eked out a living mending soles for the neighbors. His life was more bitter than coptis root.

Chen Mo originally didn't want to get involved.

In these times, whose family didn't have its own hard-luck story? He himself was still struggling on the line between life and death, with a lifespan of only forty-seven years. He had no spare heart to play the bleeding-heart fool.

"Old codger, debts must be repaid, that's the way of heaven! If you can't cough up two taels of silver today, we're taking the girl!"

A voice like a creaky duck erupted in the alley.

Chen Mo sighed and pulled back the foot he'd already stepped out.

It wasn't that he wanted to intervene; the path was blocked. Old Man Li's house was right at the alley entrance, the only way through.

He ambled over slowly.

A crowd had gathered outside Old Man Li's door, all neighbors. They hunched their shoulders, pointing and whispering, not one daring to step forward.

In the center of the crowd, three men in black short jackets were throwing their weight around. The leader had a pockmarked face, holding a rusty axe, tapping the flat side against Old Man Li's cheek.

Old Man Li knelt on the ground, his forehead covered in blood, clutching the girl called Little Grass protectively in his arms.

"Master Ma, Master Ma, have mercy!" Old Man Li kowtowed while coughing, bloody froth spraying on the ground. "Just two more days, just two! I'll sell my burial savings, I'll definitely pay you back!"

"Burial savings?" Pockmarked Face sneered, kicking Old Man Li in the chest. "How much is that shoddy thin coffin of yours worth? This girl, though scrawny, cleaned up and sold to a brothel could easily cover two taels of silver."

As he spoke, he reached out to grab Little Grass.