Gěng Yúhuī opened his eyes as he looked at his surrounding of his house courtyard he could feel the rootbound clan busy atmosphier
suddenly a thought struck him Ahhh, why did I come here?
Gěng Yúhuī's father anxiously asked a question. His voice was so soothing that it would make the best singer envious.
Son, son, what are you doing?? Are you all right?? Can you remember who I am?
"Ah, Father" a handsome fragile looking pale young man repied , ," he replied, trying to sound normal.
Then he asked, "Ah, what day, time, and year is it?"
It's the 6th year of the Crimson Moon Era, and it's autumn, the 5th day of the month.
He sighed, thinking how complex this world and its climates and seasons were. There were 6 seasons, and things were weird.
After the rather rainy season, there would be another 1 or 2 months of summer. Of course, it was called molten wave because at this time, fire was at its peak, and this time it was way harder to protect plants and trees. Volcanoes would burst out or form, but it was a very good period for smithereens, but if they weren't careful, blasts or being burnt wasn't a small possibility either.
All in all, his world was weird, and seasons also changed in duration depending on the year and celestial arrangements, even by immortals' will, etc. he He sighed as he hugged his lovely father, reassuring him with repeated words and answering his repetitive questions passively.
This wasn't his first coma, or even his first month-long one; he had been in a coma for a year or two, but this one was the most exciting and worthwhile because he gained tremendously valuable information, and that too knowledge of future.
But it wasn't even completely far form it yet the sheer amount of information made him feel all jumbled.
He needed to make a plan with the methods he knew and also decide whether or not to get the main artifact and get more information. If he did that without preparation, he would undoubtedly fall into a coma, and his brain would burst. And the problem with the act was that it was near a gate, something that he could have never imagined could have existed-well, not just him, anyone in the whole clan.
To think there are literal magical gates in this world that lead to fragments of another world or dungeons! He sighed, recollecting all the events of the future method technique. He truly suffered a lot and would have continued to suffer without this knowledge.
His eyes burned with rage, hatred, defiance, and mainly with the fire of revenge and hope.
After consoling his father, he asked with a tinge of dissatisfaction, "Pa, how much did you pay for the healer?"
his father replied in a low voice, "With your store and some more..."
Gěng Yúhu grumbled angrily, prostrate. Why? I told you to not get any healers...why??
This time unexpectedly , Yúhu's father grumbled, "Do you have any idea how close you were to death?"
If I had followed your instructions, you wouldn't have ever woken up. Do you have any idea your brain was melting, flowing through your ears? Your ulna was injured.
I had to bring in multiple people for days just to stop the damage. Gěng Yúhu was speechless; his father rarely ever shouted at him. He thought this was one of the cousins' plans to snatch the little asset that was left in their name.
He sighed. Father, please, let's not do anything yet. I will make sure that you'll never need to worry about me or our future.
Gěng Yúhu went inside meditating to collect his thoughts; he had few options. His aperture wasn't awakened, and awakening it early would be a huge waste of resources. He needed to attend the trial of assentation;
in his previous life he had skipped it, pretending to be in a coma with the help of his dad to avoid the possibility of death. why because His cousins openly threatened him fearing death his father paid a huge price to awaken only to find out his weak D-rank aperture.
Thereafter, his suffering began with bullying and torment every time he thought his blood boiled. Shaking his head, he was conflicted, as in the trial death was acceptable and he was the target of envy for many people yet the rewards were alluring and necessary for his future to thrive.
first few options were selling himself or blackmailing an elder this was double edge sword he had to get a sugar mommy like his dad had gotten then blackmail or use
because in this world resources mattered as much as power as it was foundation of power but without power it was hard to find acquire and keep those resources,
it was how in earth in order to make money one needed money in the first place it wasn't that he didn't think he was exception with main character syndrome like in his previous life and attempted to change the norm but any business idea no matter how good or unique would be copied or stole without power one couldn't do business or at least sustain it
so he didnt want to entertain this thought at all at least in earth you had some chance at least that was what we were fed he laughed dryly
Gěng Yúhu thoughts trailed off as soon as he thought about blackmail and the weather the smiled after thinking though he got up sun was still early trying to rise up and show his brightness as Gěng Yúhu noticed his father worriedly peaking at him he went outside his room and hugged him tightly father i want to enjoy and brighten up a little
will you please promise me that you wont object to whatever i do today he said cutely as father eyes warmed a little and a wave of suspicions quickly took over
but before he could refute Gěng Yúhu quickly turned around and said i want to go to shopping and enjoy my night in the father eyes rorred in anger as Gěng Yúhu quickly stopped his deliberate paused and said "farm" will you please come
pointing his finger up "ah~` nha -ah ah you can't refuse remember you promised today !" not baring to see Gěng Yúhu depressed due to his condition
he nodded he was ready to allow taboo things let his young boy grow up into a young man notherless didn't had to pretend to be angered and support honestly he was really worried about this part hoped his son did it without his permition or hope he doesn't have to discover his acts
turns out his son was really good son he smiled happily his heart content and left as he noticed his son picking his cloths
Gěng Yúhuī stood before the mirror in his modest quarters, brushing a hand across his pale cheekbones. His father's robe-once too large, now cinched tight-draped over extra layers of linen that padded his slight frame.
He tugged at the charcoal scarf around his jaw, feeling the rough weave press gently against his skin; every fold of cloth and crease of leather was deliberate.
He reached into the folds of his sash and withdrew a slim, metal badge etched with partial seals of the Grand Sect's medicinal bureau. It gleamed faintly where the lamp's flame caught along the chips in its enamel. Beside it lay a faded permit-the kind mortal healers carried, stamped once by his father's own hand.
Yúhuī tucked both into the inner pocket of his robe and gingerly laid 20 pinkish-purple polished essence stones into a small satchel. These were essence stones, his lifeline and bargaining chip.
In business, he reminded himself, the illusion of power guards secrets better than steel. A final glance at his reflection satisfied him.
The soft curve of his cheek, the high brow, the slender fingers now weathered by subtle calluses-all bespoke a cultivator, not a pale youth recently roused from a coma. Beneath the scarf, his lips curved once in a nearly imperceptible smile. He collected his satchel and stepped out into the chill autumn dusk.
His father's voice drifted up from the hallway. "Yúhuī? You look… sharper." He entered, rubbing his temple. "Like me, but sharper." You've gotten… impressive."
Yúhuī turned with a faint smile. "Thought I'd try something new."
His father crossed his arms. "Promise me you won't do anything reckless tonight. And guard that seal-if a clan enforcer spots you misusing it…" He trailed off, placing a hand on Yúhuī's shoulder. "Just be careful."
"Dad," Yúhuī said, straightening the badge, "just for fu… doing some field research." He winked, and his father nodded, half relieved.
---------
The Lower District stank of iron, and smoke entered Yúhuī's nostrils. Faint sparks flickered in the haze like lazy fireflies as Gěng Yúhuī descended the cracked stone steps. His robe was coarse, travel-worn, and padded subtly to hide the lithe form underneath-a youth's silhouette shrouded in the illusion of bulk and age. His face, shadowed beneath a broad brim, remained unreadable.
Slung across his back was a stitched satchel, aged just enough to seem dull. From its flap, an unremarkable edge of parchment peeked out-one corner bearing a half-visible, official-looking seal. Nothing was shown clearly, and that was the point. Beneath his outer tunic, a medical practitioner's badge nestled, hidden carefully.
The forge at the street's edge roared like a caged beast. Bellows wheezed. Metal sang. A blacksmith with arms like mill logs paused mid-hammer and squinted through the soot.
"You lost, boy?"
Yúhuī stepped forward, letting the seal flash just briefly-as if by accident.
The blacksmith blinked. His brow furrowed. As he thought, "...That's...wait. That's not a soldier's tag, is it? Or is it a scout branch? No, the hands are too clean."
He said, "Oh, sorry if I came off rude." You looked so young." Sir, your hands look like they've never held a blade. Then...?"
Yúhuī panicked. Oh, shit! Why didn't I use gloves, dammit? He improvised, immediately scoffing, "Blades are for cannon fodder with no gu or any talent."
The blacksmith sniffed faintly, then tilted his head. "And padded clothes? A bit warm for forge, isn't it?"
Yúhuī's eyes flicked toward him-too sharp, too fast. For a second, something like annoyance sparked behind his composed face. Then amusement curled at the edge of his mouth.
"There's a price for everything," he said, his tone light but distant. "Even pretending you weren't born with bones too light for this world."
"You can't defy fate," he said, filled with irony, which went unnoticed.
A beat.
Damn. That slipped out.
Both thought at the same time, and Yúhuī sighed internally, "Don't do it too much."
He took a bunch of blueprints out as the land ownership certificate signed by the elder showed just enough to see the seal. The blacksmith's eye shone a bit, returning to normal as his brain calculated the person's worth by connecting dots. The cultivator higher up might be an elder order ladder, but those trees look planted. Maybe I am imagining it, and he looks too young. Just as the blacksmith was about to think about it too deeply, Gěng Yúhuī, as if sensing the scrutiny, quickly distracted him.
Yeah, Yúhuī thought, watching him closely. I can feel the doubts ticking away in his head like clockwork. This kind... always counting. Always trying to prove they deserve the sum.
"Everyone wants to be clever. 'That's the trick,'" Yúhuī mused inwardly. "You don't have to outwit them-just let them do the math wrong on purpose."
He let a rolled blueprint drop softly onto the blacksmith's worktable. As the scroll unfurled, the blacksmith's eyes darted-then stopped. Complex schematics. Traps, spike-launchers, strange tools with weird shapes deliberately made undetectable, some new wall-climber designs, and many more. Well-drawn. Refined. Dangerous.
Then he saw it: a second paper, slightly tucked beneath the first, bearing what looked like a land seal-but only the edge, showing a wax imprint and a symbol not quite legible.
The blacksmith's jaw moved, but no words came, though his mind screamed. War, money, test
As if to confirm his spiraling thoughts, Gěng Yúhuī said:
Have you heard of "Steel That Remembers"? So do walls. So do graves."
He said it lightly, as if discussing the weather. But the space after hung too long.
The blacksmith's knuckles twitched.
"So you're recruiting... orders?"
With a sickened mimicry of an adult's pompous tone, Yúhuī cut him off-there was a glint of amusement in his eyes he couldn't hide that was screaming success.
"I never said that."
Yúhuī's voice was calm, but his eyes glinted. He tapped one of the blueprints.
"These are test commissions. I'll need five good pieces crafted from the high-tensile ore you've been hoarding secretly. And twenty more of these-"he slid a second, subtly flawed blueprint forward"-"to be distributed among miners and open markets."
"You want me to make... worse versions? Deliberately?" The blacksmith asked, voice lower as if it was his first time doing it, "And give those to the public?"
Yúhuī sighed, eyes narrowing. "You'll sell them, not give them. Cheap. They'll break early. Customers will come back crying-right into your lap. A good gesture of mine."
He pointed at some of the blueprints, tapping a mark with his nail, then retracting it. "These, though," he said, his tone shifting hard, the sweetness edged with fire, "must not slip. No matter what. I wasn't here, and you didn't get the order. If they leak..."
His voice dropped into a honey-laced threat.
The blacksmith stilled.
"That's... smart," he muttered. Thinking again. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.
He turned slightly, still tense. "And what's in it for you, sir?"
"Survival," Yúhuī said flatly, as if the question offended him. "for all of us,"
The blacksmith rubbed his chin, then chuckled nervously. "Ah, kind sir, I've been holed up here too long. Could you tell me which way the autumn winds are blowing these days?"
Yúhuī's eye twitched.
"Is your left eye twitching too?" he muttered, shutting that line down fast.
Still, the blacksmith wasn't fully convinced. Too young. Too perfect, his instincts weren't letting him be fooled.
He grabbed a dusty pouch from under the table, its contents clinking softly, and held it out. "Your kind usually asks for this upfront."
Yúhuī glanced at the pouch, tempted (oh, free money), then narrowed his eyes. It was a trap.
He pushed it back.
"Is that what you think I came for? This?" His tone snapped with the frustration of a different source of cold for the first time that seemed so out of place it startled the blacksmith. "You insult me with these scraps."
"I-I was just-"
"Bribes don't come in scraps," Yúhuī said, slapping down the flap of his satchel with practiced irritation. "Either give the full sum now or save us both the shame. And don't expect kindness if you try that again."
The blacksmith's expression flipped. Suspicion turned to panic, then-just as quickly-to relief masked as understanding.
Then he smiled slightly, appreciating Yúhuī's intelligence.
"Don't you dare try to test me again."
He coughed awkwardly, apologizing. "I was just proving my worth, sir. I hope my intelligence at understanding was to your satisfaction."
Yúhuī gave a thin smile. He never confirmed. That was the trick.
Finally, he said, "I wouldn't have come here if I thought you couldn't handle it." Let's see if your service is as skilled as your tongue."
"I'll prepare the five pieces-top-grade ore, folding method, hardened edge. The rest, I'll make sloppy enough to pass-safe enough to sell, bad enough to break." He glanced down. "I have some old ones I can recycle."
"And while you're at it," Yúhuī added, "train your apprentices. Expand your shop little by little." You know what I mean.
The blacksmith hesitated. His instincts weren't content.
"Questions are dangerous?"
Yúhuī's eyes hardened, and his voice dropped to a whisper.
"Curiosity kills more than cats. It starves families, too."
The words cut like a blade. The blacksmith held up both palms in mock surrender, sweat visible on his temple now.
"Of course, of course. None of my business. I'm just the hammer, not the arm that swings it."
Yúhuī turned, his cloak fluttering faintly behind him as he headed for the exit. The blacksmith stood frozen, watching his every step.
"What did I just walk into?" the man muttered under his breath. "War plans? Espionage? A young official? Or…" He looked at the flawed blueprints again and smiled.
"Profit."
His apprentices stared as the forge roared again.
"Start melting the old molds. And tell Jin to spread the rumor that the same blueprints were used in the Trials. Let's see who comes begging for the real deal."
As the hammer struck metal, the blacksmith chuckled softly to himself.
"Clever bastard. Not bad for a padded coat."
"Finally someone of my intellect," he scoffed, almost to himself. "I was just surrounded by idiots. I don't belong here; I belong in the upper Elson."
----
Yúhuī could not control himself as he directly went to a small, dark alley and started banging on the walls with stifled screams.
Then a gruff voice came: "Who's that?" startling Gěng Yúhuī as he quickly ran away.
"That was awesome." I guess knowledge does make people smarter, huh! Then he sighed, "But so much work just to save a few bucks."
Outside, a group of mine workers muttered about low wages and dangerous working conditions in deep shafts. Yúhuī's eyes flicked to them. "It hasn't happened yet," he thought, recalling the plague. He tucked the iron spikes segment of his satchel and walked on-already plotting how to turn their complaints into leverage.
"He went around buying supplies and going back and forth to his house." Soon the dawn came as Yúhuī started chanting in his mind, not too much.
A lone beggar, hood drawn low, fell in step behind him. Yúhuī paused on a cracked stone and let a single quote echo in his mind:
Strength guards secrets, and secrets foment power.
He moved again, not knowing an eye in the shadows now watched him, and Gěng Yúhuī was unaware of the watchful eyes.