Chapter 159 There is a sword in the furnace, right and wrong
Guyue Sword Shop, which had been shrouded in some kind of dark cloud all morning, the atmosphere of panic finally eased.
At the gate of Guyue Sword Shop, the craftsmen of the sword shop couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief when they saw the young county magistrate and other people from the county government walking away.
Inside and outside an old sword furnace halfway up Xiaogu Mountain, the original tense atmosphere dissipated, all the figures disappeared, and the tranquility of the past was restored.
Inside the sword furnace room.
Only the lonely figure of the old swordsmith was left, and an empty sword-making furnace without fire.
besides.
There is a piece of blue origami left on the table.
There is an arc on the paper made of pure Pythagorean shapes.
This "arc" looks like a circle but not a circle, and looks like a blade but not a blade.
Inside the empty sword furnace room.
The old swordsmith sat at the table.
His face was silent.
Ten burnt-yellow fingers unraveled the "arcs" on this blue origami piece by piece.
Put it back together again.
The old swordsmith moves skillfully.
It was as if this had been done thousands of times.
It is no less ingenious than those women weaving sword spikes in the breakfast shop.
"Disciple, the best swordsmith must have the best aesthetics."
He remembered his master once said this.
The old swordsmith agreed with this statement.
But I don’t agree with the master’s aesthetics.
His predecessors had an almost pathological paranoia about straight lines.
Straight lines are also the most commonly used element in swords in the world.
But in the eyes of the old swordsmith, straight lines are hard and crude, rigid and stiff.
In his mind, the feeling created by straight lines is like watching a swallow returning to its nest crash and die on the eaves of a blue-black roof.
Flesh and blood were blurred, feathers were scattered, and the whole world around him began to look bad.
The old swordsmith hated straight lines.
The curve is completely opposite to the straight line. It is feminine and changeable.
Just like the rice wine he poured down his throat, its shapes changed in ever-changing ways and warmed the drinker's stomach.
However, in the eyes of the master and others, the most beautiful curves in the world, apart from the pair of sun and moon above her head, are nothing more than a woman's breasts and butt.
This is a small path, and it is difficult to reach the elegant hall.
The difference between aesthetics and sword-making concepts is also the reason why the old sword-smith left the apprenticeship in the first place.
So he didn't feel much regret when his master died tragically later.
It was just that I had two more bottles of wine on hand in the dead of night.
Later, the old swordsmith also discovered it belatedly.
Not all things in this world are necessarily straight and right, black and white.
For example, isn't he currently making a sword for the enemy who killed his master?
In front of the ancient table, the old swordsmith lowered his head and murmured:
"The old guy is right, the curve is too soft and it is difficult to hide the spirit of the sword.
"But a straight line is too rigid. If it is too rigid, it is easy to break, and if it is too soft, it will be weak.
"So I want to find an 'arc', an 'arc'...
"Between the curve and the straight..."
An arc is like an iron bar. If you exert a little force on both ends, an arc will appear in the middle.
But it resists with all its strength, ready to return to a straight line at any time.
It is tense.
"Oh, there are Confucian sages who say that we should distinguish right from right, but I can't."
The old swordsmith suddenly smiled.
"Let those who come after us use this sword that is indistinguishable from right to wrong to cut off things that are inseparable from right and wrong."
The old swordsmith who was folding paper quietly in the room saw an "arc" gradually taking shape between his fingers.
At a certain moment, he seemed to think of what the young man said not long ago. The old man showed admiration in his eyes and sighed with the same emotion:
"It's so beautiful..."
But at this moment.
There was a sound of footsteps outside the sword furnace.
It's Liu Zian.
After finally seeing off the young county magistrate and other uninvited guests, he hurried back to the mountainside.
With a "squeak" sound, the door to the sword furnace room was pushed open, and Liu Zian walked in with a gloomy and ugly face. He pointed at the sword furnace and asked with a frown:
"What's going on? Where's the sword? Haven't you been making swords all these years? Where's the sword?"
Just now, the old swordsmith opened the sword-making furnace in front of everyone. Everyone could not help but be stunned. Even Liu Zian was suddenly startled and full of suspicion.
After carefully sending Ouyang Rong away, and hastily sending away Liu Zilin and other followers, he hurriedly returned to Jianlu alone to ask for an explanation.
The old swordsmith's face was expressionless and he pretended not to pay attention.
Blue origami paper in hand.
The "arc" takes shape again.
In front of the frowning Liu Zian.
The old swordsmith grabbed the "arc", stood up with his rickety body, turned around and walked to the empty sword-making furnace at the back.
He threw it in.
There is no fire in the furnace.
But the "arc" of this paper fold has just entered.
It disappeared into thin air.
There was a "clang" sound.
The circular iron door of the sword-making furnace was tightly closed again.
In front of the furnace, the old swordsmith turned his head silently, his eyelids drooping, like a tiger in its old age that still has some remaining power.
"You question me?"
Liu Zian looked at the strange scene of "wiping into ashes" just now with a dumbfounded expression. Immediately, he waved his hand with a sneer:
"How could I dare to question the old gentleman? It's just that the sword shop was forcibly broken into by outsiders early in the morning, and they bothered the old gentleman to make swords... I am a little impulsive.
"However, the old gentleman is still very powerful. This sword-making technique is so ingenious that neither Ouyang Lianghan nor Xie Lingjiang noticed the clues. Haha, even I was confused."
Liu Zian talked quickly, but the old swordsmith didn't say anything, and the atmosphere was still a bit awkward.
Liu Zian tried and said:
"So, old sir, this sword is still being tempered in the sword-making furnace? Is there some profound deception behind it?"
The old swordsmith looked calm and glanced at him, his tone seemed to be curious:
"Who said swords must be refined in a furnace?"
"Where to temper it?"
The old swordsmith turned to look at the endlessly flowing Butterfly Creek at the foot of the mountain outside the door, and said nonsense as if for no reason:
"Wherever you can refine a sword, it will appear there. Who said you must use a sword furnace to refine a sword?"
Liu Zian was choked and speechless.
The old swordsmith turned around and asked suddenly: "Is Liu Ziwen dead?"
Liu Zian was silent for a while and nodded.
The old swordsmith seemed to have known something for a long time, and his expression showed no surprise.
There was no regret at all about the death of the young head of the Liu family, whom he had known and dealt with for more than ten years.
Instead, there was a hint of sarcasm and ridicule in the old man's eyes, which quickly disappeared.
Liu Zian stood uneasily and asked, "What if Mrs. Wei finds out?"
The old swordsmith laughed and said: "You have already done it, and now you are afraid that Wei will know about it?"
Liu Zian frowned and glanced at the old man:
"Don't forget, this is not only my business, but also your business, old man. Let's think about how to deal with the people sent by the Wei family to get the sword. With the strength of the Wei family, it is impossible to say that there will be anyone of extremely high rank.
Qi practitioners come..."
The old swordsmith didn't answer, his expression remained as usual.
So the atmosphere became quiet for a while.
Liu Zian, who was wandering back and forth in the room in deep thought, suddenly raised his head and asked first:
"When will this sword be ready?"
The old swordsmith responded coldly:
"I would like to ask you, what is the reason for the fluctuation of the water level in Butterfly Creek in the past two days? Is it agreed to remain unchanged?
"Since the new county magistrate came, your Liu family has done nothing to satisfy me."
Liu Zian opened his mouth, but in the end he did not defend himself and said with a bitter taste:
“On the day of the ribbon-cutting ceremony, Ouyang Lianghan had people open the Broken Wing Canal, and the river water poured in, which had some impact on the water level of Butterfly Creek.
"In addition, the last flood in Yunmengze at the end of the plum rainy season has begun, which will also have an impact on the water level of Butterfly Creek. However, Dickong Gate should be able to withstand it, so the problem is not too big.
"Old sir, what should we do now..."
Halfway through his words, Liu Zian noticed the cold gaze cast by the old man opposite.
He paused before speaking, took a deep breath, and nodded:
"I understand. The Liu family will spend another sum of money to support the county government to deal with the Zheyi Canal as soon as possible to see if the gap can be blocked and restart the second phase of the Zheyi Canal... without further delay."
Liu Zian's face felt a little painful. The Liu family had either been forced or proactively invested too many resources in the Zheyi Canal business.
The most outrageous thing is that after the Broken Wing Canal was completed, it was still the political achievement of the enemy Ouyang Lianghan.
Liu Zian rubbed his face, took a long breath, and no longer cared about short-term gains and losses.
He continued: "As for the rising water in the upper reaches of Yunmengze... Ouyang Lianghan should be able to withstand it."
The old swordsmith sneered: "Oh, you are expecting others to stand up to you again? You Liu family should really thank them."
The corner of Liu Zian's mouth twitched, and he squeezed out a sentence for a long time:
"It's just mutual fulfillment."
After that, the two chatted briefly for a while, and the old swordsmith turned around and made a gesture of rushing away:
"Okay, let's go. I'm done here. It's your Liu family who's delaying the completion of the sword.
"Go ahead and block the Broken Wing Canal. When the water level of Butterfly Creek is restored, this sword will be born."
Liu Zian nodded solemnly.
The second head of the Liu family, who finally took power, was worried about Zhongzhong's departure.
In the sword furnace room, the old swordsmith was the only one left, standing silently in front of the furnace.
The atmosphere in the room was quiet.
Until the old swordsmith, who was looking down and thinking, picked up a jar of rice wine left on the table by a young county magistrate before he left.
He opened the lid, raised his head, and took a sip.
He suddenly turned his head and asked the sword-making furnace with the door closed:
"You like the energy on him?"
In the empty room, the old man stared at the air in front of him, his eyes fixed, as if he could see something that ordinary people could not see with the naked eye.
It’s like he’s talking to himself:
"Little guy, stop sucking secretly. If you had taken one more breath just now, you would have been discovered by that Xie girl.
"This girl is also always guarding her senior brother's energy. Oh, don't be found out and you are competing with her for food."
The old swordsmith's withered face showed rare wrinkles and smiled.
The old man waved his hand gently forward, as if greeting a child.
"Go, little one, to Butterfly Creek.
"Hey, you are so greedy. The hydrological luck that has leaked from Yunmengze, a huge mountain upstream for more than ten years, is not enough for you.
"Be careful, don't get caught by the Wuyue nuns from the Nujun Hall.
"Although, my master's sect and Donglin Temple seem to still owe them a tripod sword.
"Speaking of which, how should we repay this old debt..."