“He guessed I would ask you this question?”
Zhang Liang’s response greatly surprised Jin Feng: “What did he say?”
“The Marquis said, just answer whatever you ask truthfully.”
Zhang Liang said: “Little Feng, what do you want to know? Ask away. As long as I know it and can say it, I’ll definitely tell you.
After you ask, you’ll see that the Marquis is different from other officials. He’s a good man, I can vouch for it with my life.”
Hearing Zhang Liang’s assurance, Jin Feng knew today’s plan might fall through.
This guy was clearly a die-hard fan of Qing Huai, blindly worshipping him, so his words held little reference value. He’d surely only say the good stuff.
But Jin Feng still felt he should ask.
At the very least, he needed to know where this Marquis was from and his main responsibilities.
These basic details, Zhang Liang couldn’t embellish.
“Where’s this Marquis from? What’s his background?” Jin Feng asked.
“The Marquis’s father is Duke Qing. At fourteen, he joined the army, at sixteen he killed enemies and was promoted to squad leader, at twenty-one he was made a captain, and at twenty-three he led a thousand men of the Iron Forest Army’s right wing to defend Songzhou, holding off twenty thousand Dangxiang cavalry for three months without losing. When reinforcements arrived, he coordinated a pincer attack, completely annihilating the invaders.”
Zhang Liang’s face carried a look of admiration: “That battle disrupted all the Dangxiang plans. The Emperor was overjoyed and granted him the title of Baron of Jinchuan County, later elevating him to Marquis of Jinchuan County for his outstanding military achievements.”
“His title isn’t hereditary?”
“Of course not. The Marquis is the third son of Duke Qing, and reportedly a concubine’s son, so he can’t inherit the dukedom. His marquis title was earned with blood and steel on the battlefield.”
At this, Zhang Liang couldn’t help but puff out his chest, as if he’d earned the title himself.
The richer people are, the more they value their lives.
As the son of Duke Qing, even a concubine’s son, he could have lived a life of wealth and comfort.
Yet Qing Huai chose to join the army and earned a marquis title through military service.
Regardless of whether Duke Qing pulled strings behind the scenes, Qing Huai’s rise proved his capability.
Perhaps this was why Zhang Liang admired him so much.
“I heard from Dongdong that when the Marquis came, he wanted to take the spinning wheel, which made you wary of him. But I know the Marquis didn’t want the spinning wheel to make himself rich.”
Zhang Liang said: “In the army, the Marquis eats and lives with the soldiers. After battles, he distributes all the spoils to us common soldiers, taking nothing for himself. His Qingfeng Villa has no luxurious items, and the servants are mostly families of fallen comrades.
He wanted your spinning wheel only to make more money to support the families of soldiers who died in battle.
But there are so many fallen soldiers. How can he possibly look after them all?”
Hearing this, Jin Feng’s resistance to Qing Huai softened a bit.
He knew this might be Qing Huai’s intention.
But inevitably, Zhang Liang’s words still influenced him.
Jin Feng believed he understood Zhang Liang. Even if Zhang Liang idolised Qing Huai, he wouldn’t harm Jin Feng.
If he had any ulterior motives, it was likely just wanting Jin Feng to work with Qing Huai.
Like how some people have two close friends and want to introduce them to each other, hoping they’ll become friends too.
After Zhang Liang left, Jin Feng set aside his stray thoughts and, as objectively as possible, reviewed what he knew about Qing Huai.
Born into a noble family, ambitious, capable, skilled in leading troops, and adept at managing subordinates.
Even years after retiring, Zhang Liang remained fiercely loyal to Qing Huai. Whether Qing Huai was genuinely sincere or putting on a show, his charisma was undeniable.
After thinking it over half the night, Jin Feng decided to try working with Qing Huai.
Someone like him, even if putting on a show, wouldn’t turn on those close to him.
Because if he did, the persona he’d spent years building would collapse instantly.
No one is perfect, and finding a partner like Qing Huai was already a stroke of great luck. If things went wrong later, Jin Feng could always find a way to back out.
With the decision made, Jin Feng stopped overthinking. Listening to the creaking sound of the spinning wheel from the courtyard, he soon fell asleep.
Knowing Qing Huai was waiting to see results, Jin Feng had Man Cang set aside other tasks to focus on building a new furnace with Zhang Liang.
Since he’d decided to cooperate, Jin Feng didn’t hold back. Finding the brothers’ progress too slow, he directly asked Qing Huai for help.
Qing Huai recognised this as Jin Feng’s signal to collaborate and, without hesitation, assigned three guards to assist the brothers.
The small courtyard became livelier than usual, with not only the creaking of women spinning but also the hearty laughter of men.
The brick kiln by the river was bustling, with piles of brick blanks made by the men stacking up.
Qing Huai had led troops and travelled widely, but he’d never seen a village like Xihe Bay.
Most villages were struggling and lifeless, but Xihe Bay was like a rising sun, brimming with energy and vitality.
According to Zhang Liang, all these changes began after Jin Feng’s marriage, in less than a month.
In under a month, transforming a starving village into this was unimaginable to Qing Huai.
But the steaming brick kiln, the bundles of hemp thread from the spinning wheels, and the busy Zhang Liang brothers building the furnace were undeniable.
In his heart, Qing Huai grew to value Jin Feng more, genuinely treating him as an equal. Their conversations became more relaxed.
This change pleased Jin Feng, as speaking formally all the time was exhausting.
With three strong men helping, the furnace-building sped up dramatically. In just a day and a half, a new blacksmith furnace stood by the smithy’s wall.
It was already three or four in the afternoon, and Jin Feng planned to start smelting iron the next day. But Qing Feng was impatient, constantly pacing around him.
When Qing Huai passed by for the sixth time, Jin Feng couldn’t take it anymore: “Alright, Marquis, stop pacing. Man Cang, come here!”
Qing Huai grinned and cupped his hands: “Whatever you need, sir, just say it.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t be shy with you.”
Jin Feng led Man Cang into the smithy.
The furnace was already lit. Jin Feng opened the old blacksmith’s chest, took out a few pieces of pig iron, tossed them in, and had Man Cang work the bellows hard.
Da Kang hadn’t yet widely adopted coal, and despite Qing Huai pulling strings, none could be found. Jin Feng had to use charcoal.
Charcoal produced less heat than coal. Even with Jin Feng’s advanced blower and flux to lower the pig iron’s melting point, it couldn’t reach the melting point.
Jin Feng adjusted repeatedly, working late into the night, finally getting the iron blocks to a semi-soft state.
Knowing this was the best he could do with current techniques, Jin Feng took the softened iron from the furnace. His injured left hand sprinkled special flux, while his right swung a hammer, striking relentlessly.
The clanging rang through the night. At dawn the next day, Jin Feng opened the smithy’s door, holding tongs with two long blades.
