At first, Wu Ying found the entire process fascinating. But soon, the cultivator grew bored. Lacking proper education or an explanation, Wu Ying did not understand why Bao Cong pulled out the metal at certain times, beat on it and returned the metal to the forge at others. While Wu Ying could tell Bao Cong was striking the metal at specific angles, he could not understand what those angles were, the rhythm of motion, or why the other cultivator frowned and returned the metal to the forge.
As no explanation was ever provided, Wu Ying found his attention waning. He kept one ear out for orders from Bao Cong, content to keep working the forge bellows as instructed, acting almost on automatic. Mostly though, he felt back into his mind, looking for and locating his dantian.
The lower dantian was where Wu Ying’s chi was mainly stored, flowing in circles and contained in the nebulous space beneath and behind his navel. There, the chi—that force of nature and creation—Wu Ying had gathered and made his own flowed, entering his meridians and traversing the pathways of energy of his body. Most of this was done automatically, as simply and unconsciously as his heartbeat.
Cultivation was the the act of channeling that chi in an active manner. Drawing chi into his body from the external world, making it part of his existence, and using it to cleanse clogged and dirty meridians. Properly done, the process was both a filtering and cleansing process, like filtering water and using that new clean water to wash drainage pipes that had been dirtied by repeated use. Since most external chi was aspected in one form or another, it was important for an individual to alter that chi and make it his own, transforming that chi in his body.
At the Body Cleansing stage, a cultivator like Wu Ying had few uses for chi other than to cleanse and strengthen his body. Each cleansed meridian increased his strength as it allowed more chi to be used in even the most casual of motions. Of course, to cleanse a meridian, one must have sufficient chi to flood the cleansed meridian, or it would once again require cleansing.
In either case, for the vast majority of cultivators, cultivation was done while being still. The concentration and care required to move chi through one’s body was so great, they dared not do so while moving. A mistake while cultivating could injure or potentially cripple a cultivator, especially if said cultivator was soaking in chi from a moment of enlightenment. But due to previous training, Wu Ying was not one of those individuals.
In fact, Wu Ying often found it beneficial to cultivate while moving. His preference was to be running, moving to new areas of fresh chi. As such, being in the forge and working the bellows was less optimal. But, to Wu Ying’s surprise, the constant flames released a significant amount of fire chi into the air, along with threads of metal chi. Wu Ying worked to absorb and strain this chi through his dantian, concentrating and forcing the aspected chi out and keeping the unaspected amount within his body. This process of straining the chi was taxing on mind and body, forcing Wu Ying to drink water in ever greater amounts.
Over the next few hours, the pair worked together. When Bao Chang finished his first piece and moved on to another project, Wu Ying stayed by the forge, working the bellows in companionable silence. The pair began to move in sync, Wu Ying unconsciously gaining a rough understanding of Bao Chang and his needs. It was, if Wu Ying took the time to analyze the matter, more an understanding of Bao Chang’s body language and how he looked at and interacted with the steel than an understanding of the process itself.
As the day drew to a close, Bao Chang finally quenched his last project. After setting the piece beside the other projects, he turned to Wu Ying and instructed the cultivator on how to bank the forge. Wu Ying slowed then stopped his cultivation, stretching sore muscles and unkinking his back as he stood up fully.
“Good. Now, put the rest of the coal inside there and—what is that smell?” Bao Chang exclaimed as he neared Wu Ying.
Bao Chang stepped back, holding his forearm to his nose as he desperately breathed through his mouth. As Bao Cang was no longer focused solely on his work, the pervasive stench of Wu Ying’s cultivation sweat, flash-dried in the heat of the forge, began to tell. It was a mixture of rotten eggs, overturned manure, pus, and stagnant swamp water, all baked and concentrated.
“Ah… that’d be me.” Wu Ying’s own nose wrinkled as he opened the rafter windows wider.
“Cultivating while working the forge. And not even as a fire chi user,” Ji Ang said, his voice mild as he strode over. “An interesting use of your time in my forge.”
“Elder.” Wu Ying bowed to the other, his motion copied by Bao Chang.
“It took you two long enough to finish. All the others are done,” Ji Ang said, gesturing around the forge.
At a glance, Wu Ying could not spot any of the cultivators he had entered the forge with in the morning. Not that the forge was empty. Other blacksmiths had taken over the forge spots, working on their own projects.
“Let us see what you have here,” Ji Ang said.
Wu Ying started to approach before he received a pair of glares. Embarrassed, the cultivator hung back while still peering at the three projects Bao Chang had worked upon that day. The first was a simple straight knife, one which lacked a hilt at this time. It had a full tang running down the slight arch which made up the guard of the knife. The second was an open-faced pot-helm Wu Ying knew was made of two pieces hammered together with a third strip of iron solidified over the weld. The last piece was perhaps the prettiest of the three—the blade of a jian. Even from this angle, Wu Ying could tell the sword was a notch better quality than the pieces that he had worked with before he entered the sect.
Ji Ang took his time in checking the pieces. He checked them for burs and unfinished spots, for weight and distortions. For the sword, he even bent the blade with his bare hands before releasing the blade and checking its angle again. While Ji Ang went over the projects, Bao Chang watched the Elder, his face a mask of impassiveness. But from behind him, Wu Ying saw how the cultivator clenched his fists, how they tightened whenever Ji Ang stopped or peered at something more closely.
Ji Ang put the projects aside. “Barely adequate. The tempering work could be done better. Heat distribution was barely acceptable. The iron you used was not purified properly. And you are using the most simplistic of hammering techniques for all three. It would have been better to use the Three Leaf technique for the dagger and the Seven Wind and Two Blossom technique for the sword. As for your helm, well, for a peasant, it would be acceptable. No one else would wear such an ugly piece.”
“Yes, Elder,” Bao Chang said, bowing his head as he was reprimanded.
“Take your pieces and give them to the shop. They will price and sell them for you. Come back tomorrow. We will work on your technique,” Ji Ang said, waving.
Bao Chang bowed, taking hold of the three pieces. Wu Ying tilted his head sideways at the Elder’s words before he remembered the works completed by the blacksmiths were their property. All blacksmiths paid the rental of the forge with sect contribution points and could elect to pay for materials with their points or with real money. Because of this, the materials and final products were considered theirs.
Wu Ying’s musings were cut short as Ji Ang turned toward him, staring at the cultivator. “You are unaspected, correct?”
“Yes, Elder.”
“Mmm… fire aspects are good for the actual act of forging. But do not be misled. It’s not required. Metal aspects are extremely useful as well—the resonance with ores and metals provide a blacksmith a strong base.”
“Thank you for your advice, Elder.”
“Good. Now as for your work,” Ji Ang said, scowling. “Who told you to cultivate?”
“I… well…. No one, Elder.”
“Fool. Your job was not just to last the day but to learn! Did you grasp the difference in the color of the coals? Did you see how much of a difference the temperature and airflow you provided mattered? How about when Bao Chang pulled out his work?”