Chapter Thirty-Eight: Honored as Lord

Today, Gan Jiang was in high spirits and even invited the two to drink with him. This startled Zhuan Yi, who hurriedly found an excuse to slip down the mountain. What was so enjoyable about spending time with such a moody eccentric? He would rather ride out and hunt. Before leaving, he made plans with Meng Di about where to meet.

Meng Di smiled gently. In truth, Gan Jiang was merely a craftsman of simple mind; if their temperaments aligned, he was easy enough to get along with.

The object Gan Jiang had tossed carelessly to the ground earlier caught Meng Di’s attention. Dusty and dark, it resembled the iron blocks Gan Ying had forged. Striking it hard, he found it did not crack, suggesting it was much sturdier.

“You have an interest in this as well?” Gan Jiang asked curiously from the side.

Seeing Meng Di’s distinguished bearing, Gan Jiang used an honorific, though he insisted on rejecting any title of master, saying he was but a craftsman, and it was enough to call him by name.

Meng Di did not mind. In this era, some forms of address were still unclear to him, so he simply called him “brother.”

“Brother Gan Jiang, what is this?”

“This is pig iron, smelted from iron ore.”

“And what is it used for?”

“Ah, pig iron is difficult to refine. It took much effort, yet the result is still unusable. If you try to forge a sword from it, though sharp, it breaks far too easily.”

Meng Di was puzzled. The iron bow he had seen performed so well—better even than the finest steel of his previous life.

Gan Jiang explained, “You may not know, but the iron used for that bow was smelted from a piece of meteorite I sought far and wide in years past. Meteoric iron is pure; it can be called wrought iron. But to smelt such iron from ordinary ore is nearly impossible.”

At that moment, a robust woman emerged from the valley. Seeing what Gan Jiang held, she sighed, “Husband, you’re tinkering with pig iron again. If the king finds out, he’ll be displeased.”

“The king? The current king is Fu Gai. The craftsmen and servants have all fled—there’s no bronze left to refine,” Gan Jiang said with a bitter smile, introducing her to Meng Di. “This is my humble wife, Mo Ye. Now, only the two of us remain on this mountain.”

“Greetings, sister-in-law,” said Meng Di.

“No need for formalities, just call me by my name,” Mo Ye replied politely, stooping to gather the scattered pig iron.

There was still much fine wine in the mountains bestowed by the King of Wu. Gan Jiang had Mo Ye prepare some food. The two men sat down as host and guest, drinking and talking.

During the feast, Meng Di asked Gan Jiang about his plans. Gan Jiang only shook his head and sighed. Over the years, he had forged countless weapons for King Helü of Wu and had repaid his debt of gratitude. Now that Fu Gai was king and the guards were scattered, with no servants or apprentices left, there was no point in the couple staying any longer.

As the wine flowed and Gan Jiang grew more talkative, he spoke of how he and Ou Yezi had once studied under the same master. Their swordsmithing skills were evenly matched. Now, Ou Yezi had forged legendary swords like Zhanlu and Yuchang, while he himself could only make common soldiers’ weapons—a shame to his master’s teachings.

“Rest assured, brother Gan Jiang. One day, you and your wife will forge swords famed throughout the world.”

Gan Jiang thought it mere comfort and shook his head. “Difficult. Ou Yezi is a master of metallurgy, his swordsmithing second to none. My wife and I cannot surpass him—unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless we forge with wrought iron,” Mo Ye interjected from beside him as she poured more wine, casting him a sidelong glance.

Gan Jiang gave a wry smile. “Forgive us, my wife has always opposed the smelting of iron ore. She says to seek wrought iron from it is a fool’s dream.”

“And isn’t it?” The tall Mo Ye feigned a girlish pout, which made Meng Di smile inwardly.

“I do have some ideas about refining wrought iron,” Gan Jiang said. “If I could find a place rich in ore and with ample wood for fuel, it might be possible. Even if we could not forge swords, tools for farming would suffice.”

In Wu, agriculture was advanced and there was great demand for farming tools. But bronze was precious and not hard enough, so stone hoes and plows were still common.

“You’d also need countless servants and apprentices,” Mo Ye added coldly.

“Indeed,” Gan Jiang fell silent. Without a king’s support, it was all just fantasy.

Meng Di suppressed a smile and said slowly, “If iron ore, wood, and labor are all ready, would you two be interested in giving it a try?”

Gan Jiang and Mo Ye started, looking up at Meng Di in confusion, suddenly realizing they did not know his background.

Meng Di rose and saluted them. “Meng Di of Han pays respects. I wish to invite you both to come and refine iron.”

Han? Where was Han? The two exchanged bewildered glances.

“Han lies west of Yue, spanning hundreds of miles. I, Di, am its lord. Having long admired your name, Brother Gan Jiang, I’ve come to invite you. I have already found a mine with abundant iron ore, forests all around for charcoal, and a thousand able-bodied men at your disposal. Is there anything else you require?”

“No… nothing more!” Gan Jiang’s eyes shone. Pulling Mo Ye to kneel before Meng Di, he exclaimed excitedly, “If we can refine iron, Gan Jiang and Mo Ye pledge ourselves to serve you, my lord!”

“Good! But let us still call each other brothers henceforth. Come, let us drink this cup together.”

Meng Di was delighted. His journey to Wu was now complete—there was no need to visit Gusu City. Fu Gai was merely a warrior; his defeat was all but certain. Better to avoid the turmoil of Wu altogether.

Chu State, Yingdu.

Within the palace walls, chaos reigned. Wu was preparing to withdraw its troops.

After several clashes with the combined Qin and Chu forces, the Wu army had suffered great losses. The elder brother of King Zhao of Chu, the minister Zi Xi, had rallied tens of thousands of Chu soldiers to strike repeatedly from the border of Sui, while the Qin army advanced from the north, providing distant support.

The Wu army, together with its allies from Tang and Cai, numbered over sixty thousand, but after half a year of war, their numbers had greatly diminished.

Most crucially, the Wu soldiers had lost the will to fight. They faced defeat after defeat at the hands of the very Chu army they once considered weak.

The truth was clear to all in Wu: it was because they had grown too comfortable over the past six months.

King Helü of Wu had decreed that, upon entering Yingdu, everyone should take their place according to rank and status in the palaces of Chu.

That is to say, the nobles and generals took the wives of Chu’s high officials, while the soldiers took the wives of common folk.

As for King Helü himself, he naturally occupied the Chu king’s harem.

Of the entire city, only one woman kept her chastity: King Zhao’s mother, the Dowager Queen Meng Ying.

With the king setting such an example, his men naturally followed suit—burning, looting, indulging in drink and pleasure every day. If they stayed any longer, they would not even be able to lift their weapons.

But withdrawal was not easy either. Yue had taken advantage of the chaos, sending troops to seize territory in the rear.

Since Fu Gai had proclaimed himself king, though he accomplished little, the political situation at home had grown delicate.

If Helü lost too much strength, even if he returned, there was no guarantee he could reclaim his throne.

“Withdraw!” Helü was a resolute man. Once he saw the situation clearly, he did not hesitate. Before the Qin and Chu armies could encircle him, he looted all he could from Chu and marched away.

The only ones to suffer were Tang and Cai, who were swiftly destroyed by Chu. Their remaining soldiers were absorbed by Wu, serving only to benefit another.