“The master said business decisions are yours. We follow you.”
Han Feng answered.
“Then keep them for now.”
Luo Lan nodded, deciding. “Next we sell black knives. Release three per day. That should last until the next soap shipment.”
“Fine.”
Han Feng nodded agreement.
But Tang Fei interjected. “Miss Luo Lan, these black knives differ from before.”
“Differ?” Luo Lan asked curiously. “How?”
“See for yourself.”
Tang Fei signalled Han Feng. They unloaded a metre-long wooden case from a pack horse.
Opening it revealed neat rows of narrow wooden boxes.
Carved with fierce tigers and beasts, they looked rugged. The black wood, seemingly fire-scorched, exuded menace.
Luo Lan’s eyes sparkled.
Previous knives sold to Ninth Princess resembled those for old soldiers. Simple process. Blade forged, wooden handle attached like a kitchen knife, sheath added. Done.
Beyond sharpness and durability, no visual appeal.
This matched Jin Feng’s taste. In his past life of hardship, he prioritised utility, rarely packaging.
Poems on soap boxes were purely to please Chen Ji’s known preferences.
But hearing boxes boomed in the capital, Jin Feng grasped packaging’s value.
He had Mancang and female apprentices rework knives immediately. Sent men overnight to Guangyuan, hired top carpenters at premium, worked overtime on boxes and sheaths.
Luo Lan, raised in Shu, recognised the boxes instantly. Golden camphor wood from southwest mountains, carbonised to black.
This prevented insects, rot, corrosion, warping, and suited black knives.
The box alone let her confidently add one hundred taels.
She took a box, opened carefully.
A black knife lay fixed inside.
As guessed, entirely changed.
Sheath now matched, carbonised golden camphor, ancient and weighty.
Handle switched to jujube-patterned wood. Luo Lan knew not the type, but found it striking.
Brass wire inlays decorated and increased grip, preventing slips when bloodied.
Luo Lan mentally added another hundred taels.
She lifted the knife, drew it gently.
Then smiled.
Blade unchanged. Tang style, single-edged, slender.
Just one added line of text.
“Miss Luo Lan, what does the knife say? You smile so happily.”
An old soldier asked curiously.
“With blade held high, I laugh at heaven. My liver and gall stay with Kunlun!”
Luo Lan read softly.
“With blade held high, I laugh at heaven. My liver and gall stay with Kunlun!”
The soldier repeated, breathing quickened. “This is the master who led Iron Forest Army to crush Xiongnu cavalry. Domineering!”
Luo Lan ignored his excitement, turned to Tang Fei. “Same text on every knife?”
“All different.”
Tang Fei shook his head, smiling.
“As I thought.”
Luo Lan smiled wider.
“Is this not like selling soap?” an old soldier asked.
“The master says one good trick feeds you everywhere. If useful, why not reuse?” Luo Lan laughed. “Besides, soap and knives target different customers.”
“Miss Luo Lan speaks sense.”
Han Feng nodded approval.
“Brother Tang, master’s price for this batch?” Luo Lan asked Tang Fei.
“He is not in the capital, knows not the market. Decide yourself.”
Tang Fei replied. “But he said, if possible, try auction.”
“Auction? What is that?” Han Feng heard the term first.
But Luo Lan understood, nodded slightly. “If auction, I must think carefully.”
She decided quickly. That afternoon, in Jinchuan Chamber’s shop, the former soap window displayed three black knives.
Many great households and brothels had people waiting outside. Scholars dropped by occasionally.
No need for Han Feng’s hype. Luo Lan had boxes placed, crowds surged.
Learning it was not soap, maids looked disappointed, but idle, asked curiously what the boxes held.
“Everyone knows my master is a scholar and valiant general. But he has another identity. Guess what?”
Luo Lan asked, smiling.
“What?”
Maids played along eagerly.
“Perhaps unknown, but my master’s family trade is blacksmith!”
Luo Lan said. “His iron-forging skill rivals poetry and command. Iron Forest Army’s Qingshui Valley victory over Xiongnu cavalry owed much to his improved crossbows and invented catapults!”
“Baron Qingshui, blacksmith born?”
Many maids and scholars were hooked.
“Miss Luo Lan, so much talk. What is in the box?”
An impatient maid asked.
“No more circles.”
Luo Lan opened one. “This is my master’s divine weapon: Star-Slicing Knife! Meaning enemies seeing it fall forever into darkness!”
“After all that, just a knife.”
Maids adored fragrant soap, cared little for weapons.
Many looked disappointed, turned to leave.
Two young masters from military families passed, drawn by the knife. “Miss, looks fine, name domineering. How does it perform?”
“My master’s works are always exquisite.”
Luo Lan said confidently. “Star-Slicing Knife cuts hair on breath, slices iron like mud. Brother Iron Hammer, demonstrate!”
She handed it to Iron Hammer.
“Got it!”
Iron Hammer drew with a clang, held hairs to the edge, blew gently. Hairs severed.
“Heavens, so sharp!”
The crowd gasped in unison.
