Surviving as the Sacheon Dang Clan’s Servant - Chapter 102

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 102
A short while later, I found myself sitting at a table covered in metal dust, being served tea.
“Come now, do have some. It’s old tea, but I can’t very well neglect to serve a guest.”
“Thank you. Master Jin.”
“Master? Just call me the blacksmith.”
“Yes, Blacksmith Jin.”
As I answered respectfully and took hold of the teacup, the old man laughed heartily and stroked his beard.
“Ha ha, to think I’d meet someone from the Dang Clan before I shuffled off this mortal coil. This is a day worth remembering.”
“I’m not blood family—just a servant attending the young master of the direct line.”
“Either way, you’re part of the Dang household. I learned a thing or two from the Dang patriarch myself, so we’re practically family.”
That doesn’t seem quite right to me.
Surprisingly, the old man was someone who had received kindness from the Dang Clan.
In his younger days, he’d worked at the Iron Forge under the Martial Alliance, hauling charcoal for the furnaces.
His voice was thick with joy as he explained how it was a patriarch of the Dang Clan who had taught him the proper craft of metallurgy when he was still young and clumsy.
So by that logic, he was practically family to the Dang Clan as well.
“How long has it been since I’ve told this story? If a rustic hermit like me goes around spouting off about the Martial Alliance and the Dang Clan here in the middle of nowhere, who would believe me? They’d say, ‘Has that old fool lost his mind?'”
“Ah, I see.”
Honestly, I don’t believe it either.
The Dang Clan’s metallurgical techniques would be controlled with absolute rigor—wouldn’t they?
What eccentric nobleman goes around teaching outsiders the blacksmith’s trade?
If the other smiths at the Iron Forge—where even a single misplaced item causes an uproar—found out, it would turn everything upside down.
As I awkwardly played along, I lowered my voice and whispered.
“Sir, it would be best not to speak of the Dang Clan elsewhere. Technology leakage is a sensitive matter.”
“Right, right, my old mind. The patriarch did mention that. He said my head would be on the line, and I’d completely forgotten.”
There’s plenty to forget, but surely you shouldn’t forget the matter that has your neck on the line, sir.
The old man chuckled and took a sip of tea, then asked me a question.
“Do you know the patriarch? Sharp eyes like this, and a curt way of speaking—he was that sort of man.”
He seemed to be hoping that I knew his benefactor.
Since I couldn’t very well tell him that all the Dang people were like that, I slowly shook my head.
“The master smiths rarely leave the Iron Forge, so I don’t know much about them.”
“So he still spends all day in the forge and never comes out. Haha. That’s just like him. Sounds like he’s doing well.”
This old fellow only hears what he wants to hear. I said I didn’t know who he was.
Even my flimsy excuse of being a servant attending the young master of the direct line didn’t raise any suspicion in the old man.
He was simply content to dwell on his own memories.
“When the patriarch was at work, no one was allowed into the forge. But he’d teach you anything that wasn’t a secret technique of the clan. He’d always say that if a man wants to make a living, he needs a skill.”
“He must have been a good man.”
“And he had a loud voice. I can still hear it ringing in my ears—the way he’d shout that if you held the hammer like that, you’d break your wrist.”
The old man’s face, laughing heartily, was suffused with longing.
“I wanted to become a smith like him.”
It seemed he had admired this unknown blacksmith from the Dang Clan.
When I smiled silently, the old man composed his expression and asked.
“But what brings a young master of the Dang Clan all the way to Anhui? And buying swords, no less. Does the clan work with swords these days?”
“The young master is pondering how to counter swordsmen using the Original Sect Martial Arts. He said he wanted to try the sword himself and asked me to buy him a suitable one.”
“A man with deep intentions toward the martial arts. The future of the Dang Clan looks bright.”
The old man nodded, believing my hastily made excuse. I, watching for an opening, carefully broached the subject.
“So, would you be willing to sell us that sword?”
“Of course.”
“Please, think it over once more—wait, what?”
“Give it to your young master. It’ll be put to better use with him than gathering dust out here in the back of beyond.”
The old man answered readily, having completely forgotten his earlier insistence that he wouldn’t sell it for all the gold in the world. Unable to believe such an answer, I laughed openly and pressed him further.
“Really? You’ll truly sell it to us?”
“It was entrusted to me by the patriarch in the first place. If the direct descendants of the Dang Clan come seeking it, shouldn’t I return it? He said to give it to whoever seemed like the right owner, and now the owner has finally appeared.”
“Thank you so much! The young master will be delighted.”
I seized the old man’s wrinkled hands and shook them up and down.
Goodness, whoever this patriarch was, unknown member of the household, I’ll put it to good use. Finally, this cursed connection is proving useful.
The old man laughed in delight at my exuberance and rose to his feet.
“There’s no proper sword sheath, but will that do? I’ll wrap it in cloth for you.”
“Of course that’s fine!”
The old man promptly brought out clean cloth and wrapped the sword carefully. His handiwork was meticulous, but—
“Sir, do you happen to have a carrying sack or something? It seems too conspicuous as it is.”
It was far too suspicious a sight.
Anyone could see it was a sword. Carrying something like that around, everyone would stare.
As I hesitated, an old man produced a long carrying sack from somewhere and thrust the sword inside.
“Will this do?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Tuck in some dry branches as well. Better if it looks like you’re carrying firewood.”
The old man who’d offered his counsel brought a handful of small twigs. I inserted them so they protruded from the sack’s opening, then cinched it shut.
The bulge of the scabbard still nagged at me, but it looked far better than a cloth bundle that anyone could recognize as a sword.
“Elder, about the payment…….”
“Payment? This belonged to the young master of the Dang Clan. When you return to the Dang household, please give him my regards—tell him Jin-ga has opened an iron forge here in Anhui.”
The old man cut me off, waving his hand as if I’d said something ridiculous.
I’m sorry, Elder. I won’t be able to pass that along…….
My conscience pricked sharply; I couldn’t answer directly. Instead, I smoothly steered the conversation elsewhere.
“It’s better to be certain about these things. If this truly belonged to someone of the Dang Clan, it’s not the sort of sum I can settle myself. Please bill it to Dang Un, the young master of the Dang Clan—I’ll provide a rubbing of my Identity Tablet.”
If he heard the name Dang Un, he’d recognize it as the connection I’d left behind. He wasn’t the type to betray my whereabouts, so I could trust him.
“True enough—it’s the master’s decision to make, so I can’t simply pocket it myself. If it’ll ease your mind, then do so.”
“Thank you for understanding, Elder.”
I bowed deeply and withdrew Dang Un’s Identity Tablet, holding it out to the old man.
“Goodness, crafting a tablet from Plum Jade itself! So the wealth of the Dang Clan really is as remarkable as they say.”
The tablet of a direct Dang descendant seemed to unsettle him; his hands trembled as he accepted it.
Watching as the old man carefully prepared the rubbing, I ventured cautiously, “That said……. Why did the young master entrust you with the sword?”
“He said if word spread that he’d gone to such lengths to procure Woon-steel only to make a sword from it, his family would mock him for a hundred years. He complained that a sword is too small—no satisfaction in the forging.”
“……I see.”
So that’s how it was. The man really is eccentric.
I found myself curious about the true identity of the Dang Clan’s blacksmith.
The old man cleaned Dang Un’s Identity Tablet thoroughly and returned it, breaking into a bright smile.
“To have touched a tablet of the Dang direct line! This old fellow’s had a remarkable day.”
His remark was the sort that could cause real trouble if left unchecked, and I hastily opened my mouth.
“Elder, might you keep what happened today to yourself?”
“Why is that?”
“Well, it would wound the Dang Clan’s pride to have it known they’re researching swordcraft. I’d hate for word to leak out. That’s why the young master sent me to handle this discreetly.”
“Ah, I see! This old man was shortsighted. Don’t worry—I’ll keep the secret until I’m in my grave.”
The old man nodded solemnly. He was the sort to understand quickly.
“Thank you for understanding, Elder.”
“Understanding nothing—it’s only natural. Go on now, the young master will be waiting. Be off with you.”
“Yes. Oh, and Elder—the iron blades in the box, they were all rusted over. Is it alright to leave them that way?”
As I shouldered the sack, the old man dismissed the question casually.
“That way the flies won’t swarm.”
“Pardon?”
“If they were farming tools, perhaps—but a country craftsman like me making weapons only brings shame. If word gets out that my work is shoddy, I can live in peace. That’s why I left them as they are.”
“Ah, I see.”
His wisdom struck me, and I found myself nodding. He clearly valued his connection to the Dang Clan, yet had no desire to entangle himself deeply in the affairs of the Martial World.
“Then I’ll be on my way.”
“Safe travels.”
Leaving the Iron Forge behind, I set out toward the marketplace. Joy at having acquired such a treasure made a hum escape my lips.
A sword forged from Woon-steel, no less. What extraordinary luck.
Yeon Liang will be delighted.
* * *
I purchased herbs for making Nine Worm Pills, and also bought clothes and fabric for Yeon Liang.
Even choosing the largest, widest-cut garment from those already made at the cloth merchant’s, I suspected I’d need to add considerable fabric.
The trouser legs would likely ride up more than a hand’s breadth……. But Yeon Liang can hem them himself, I suppose.
Muttering to myself as I made my way out of the marketplace, I caught my reflection in a mirror outside a jeweler’s stall.
Sling across my shoulder, a bundle of medicinal herbs in one hand and a large bolt of fabric in the other—I was the very picture of a village girl who’d come to market for household supplies.
……Perfect camouflage. No one would suspect a thing.
Smacking my lips in satisfaction and turning away, a large carriage rolled slowly past me.
The carriage bore a banner embroidered with cloud patterns—the symbol of the Namgoong Family.
I found myself transfixed, my eyes trailing the carriage as it moved.
After advancing about three zhang, the carriage came to a halt before a three-story building, and a man who rushed out opened its door.
At the same moment, a small child bounded out from beneath the carriage.

The garments draped across him—silk the color of sky, embroidered with clouds in threads of blue—were familiar to her eye.
Over his half-glimpsed profile, the face of a boy from memory began to overlap.
She blinked slowly, as if waking, and found herself murmuring without thought.
“Young Master So?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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