Chapter 28: The Blacksteel Spear Tempered a Hundred Times

The next morning, Fang Xiao awoke from his dreams. The first thing he did upon waking was to immediately take down the military satchel hanging at his bedside. From it, he pulled out three aluminum lunchboxes. After devouring their contents ravenously, he managed to fill himself halfway, finally quelling the fire of hunger that had been simmering in his belly for so long.

He wasn’t sure why, but he had been dreaming all night. In his dreams, he was feasting on all manner of fish, meat, and rare delicacies, like an insatiable glutton who could never be sated, eating on and on into eternity. When he woke, he discovered the grass pillow beneath his head was damp!

After breakfast and a simple wash, the first rays of dawn shone upon the bronze censer of the temple. With a creak, the disheveled and grimy Taoist monk Pang emerged from his room.

Fang Xiao was startled at the sight. The Taoist’s eyes were bloodshot like a rabbit’s, while dark circles ringed them like a panda’s. His whole demeanor radiated a pent-up irritability, as if he might explode at any moment!

Seeing Fang Xiao preparing to practice boxing in the courtyard, the Taoist grumbled ill-temperedly, “Forty years of painstaking cultivation, only to end up as your errand boy. If I’d known it would come to this, I might as well have laid about in the monastery!”

Fang Xiao couldn’t understand why the Taoist was venting his anger on him so early in the morning. Scratching his head, he replied awkwardly, “Thank you for your trouble.”

“You don’t understand a thing!” the Taoist nearly leapt up in frustration. Yet Fang Xiao’s innocent expression made his anger feel like a punch thrown into cotton—utterly powerless.

“Forget it, forget it,” the Taoist said, suddenly despondent. “I must owe you from a past life.” With a listless wave of his sleeve, a black shadow shot out from the cuff, flying through the air to hover before Fang Xiao.

Looking closely, Fang Xiao saw it was a jet-black, gleaming metal rod, as thick as an arm and about a foot long—solid and weighty. The Taoist explained, “This is a spear shaft I forged for you from refined black iron. Just attach your bayonet to the tip, and it’s ready to use. The method is quite simple.”

Finished already? Fang Xiao’s eyes widened in disbelief. Only last night had he asked the Taoist for help in making a red-tasseled spear, and now, here was the finished product. Realization dawned—no wonder the Taoist looked this way; he had stayed up all night forging the shaft!

Deeply moved, Fang Xiao said, “Thank you, Master Taoist, I’ve really troubled you!”

“Enough chatter,” the Taoist said impatiently. “Try it out. If there’s a problem, I’ll adjust it.”

Not daring to delay, Fang Xiao quickly took hold of the metal rod. It was cool to the touch and weighed twenty or thirty pounds—formidable enough as a short staff alone!

One end of the rod was hollow; he tried inserting the three-edged bayonet. It slid in smoothly, the tip aligning perfectly with the head of the rod, without protruding in the slightest. Even when he turned it upside down, it didn’t fall out.

Following the Taoist’s instructions, Fang Xiao gripped the shaft and swung it forward. With a swish, the short rod extended instantly to about nine feet, the bayonet tip snapping out. There was a click—Fang Xiao felt the spearhead lock firmly into place.

Magnificent! This was truly something. But this refined black iron spear had even more tricks: it could extend and retract, with the overall length controlled by the force of his swing, transforming into various forms—a short staff, a dagger, a long staff, or a spear.

Best of all, when fully retracted, it fit perfectly into his satchel, making it extremely convenient to carry.

After repeated practice, Fang Xiao quickly mastered the basics of wielding the refined black iron spear, and marveled at the Taoist’s skill. The Taoist had never even handled a bayonet before, yet the shaft and spearhead fit together perfectly without any need for modification. Most impressive of all were the shaft’s ingenious features—Fang Xiao couldn’t even fathom the principles behind it, but that didn’t stop him from showering the Taoist with endless flattery.

At first, the Taoist’s face remained dark, but as he listened to Fang Xiao’s clumsy praise, his plump features gradually softened, brows arching and lips curling in pride. “This is nothing,” he boasted. “If I had better materials, I could easily forge a true magical weapon with my skills!”

Materials? Magical weapons? A sudden thought struck Fang Xiao. He quickly opened his satchel and pulled out a handful of armor plates. “Master Taoist, are these useful?”

The plates Fang Xiao produced were all salvaged from the shattered shields dropped by the wolf demon during their earlier battle.

After slaying the wolf demon and dragging its body back to the temple, Fang Xiao had noticed the fragments scattered on the ground. Not one to waste anything, he’d collected them all. They had been sitting in his bag ever since, forgotten until now.

“Oh?” The Taoist took one in surprise. “Where did you get these?”

Fang Xiao recounted the whole story.

After hearing him out, the Taoist laughed. “These are magical artifacts for sure. That lame old wolf was squandering treasures by using them as ordinary shields. But you can’t blame him—ordinary monsters can’t use a cultivator’s magical tools.”

“Let me see if I can repair them.” At these words, Fang Xiao immediately handed over all the plates. “Take them all. I can’t use them anyway.”

The Taoist sighed. “That’s true.” Fang Xiao couldn’t cultivate, so magical artifacts were useless to him—he was no better off than the wolf demon, perhaps even worse. After all, awakened beasts possessed innate power or special gifts, while the Taoist could only bolster Fang Xiao’s strength by other means.

Yet, knowing that Fang Xiao possessed not only a personal magical weapon, but also a life-bound treasure and could level up by killing monsters made the Taoist feel as if he were a eunuch worrying that the emperor might run out of women—utterly pointless!

Bah!

“Had enough fun yet?” the Taoist said, stowing the plates up his sleeve with a disgruntled look. “When you’re done playing, I’ll take you out to see the world.”

Having just received the refined black iron spear, Fang Xiao was more excited than when, as a ten-year-old, the neighbor gave him his first slingshot. He was itching to practice with the spear all day long—how could he stop after barely trying it out?

But since the Taoist had spoken, he could only suppress his excitement, stow the black iron spear, straighten his gear, and follow the Taoist out of the little Jing Mountain temple.

Time to see the world!