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Saying Qing Xuanling possessed refining talent merely for enduring heat well was an exaggeration on Elder Gao's part—but not entirely wrong.
One of the primary qualities sought in an apprentice learning the art of refining was heat tolerance. Without it, no matter how skilled one was with the hammer or how sharp their understanding of weapon patterns, everything would be useless.
A refiner worked hand-in-hand with fire. Thus, possessing great talent meant nothing if grasping fire's hand left you fainting or exhausted.
Therefore, Qing Xuanling's serene composure before the furnace's overwhelming heat—dignified as a grandmaster refiner's—initially left Elder Gao somewhat stunned. Though claiming she lacked talent wasn't accurate either.
Most precise would be to say she possessed aptitude. Whether she excelled in other key aspects of refining remained to be seen. Still, Elder Gao felt the world was slightly unjust.
Talent for swordsmanship, alchemy—and now even potential talent for refining?! He might've spat blood from envy if not for her complete spiritual roots!
Had Qing Xuanling known Elder Gao's thoughts, she likely would've laughed. That "talent" was merely experience gained during her recent body cultivation session. Not to mention her skin had just reached the Copper Skin stage. Naturally, the heat no longer affected her greatly.
It was impossible for the furnace's emitted heat to match the intensity of being sealed inside an alchemy cauldron heated by a high-grade fire-control technique.
Thus, time passed swiftly for Qing Xuanling. Soon, twenty minutes had elapsed.
Elder Gao frowned slightly and began melting the fragments of her sword's blade, enveloping them in golden flame. "Twenty minutes have passed. In ten minutes—when I say so—immediately withdraw the tongs and place them before me."
Qing Xuanling nodded faintly, maintaining focus on holding the tongs steady. Though the heat wasn't intense enough to cause difficulty, it was somewhat bothersome. A moment's distraction might cause her to shift the tongs excessively. Though Elder Gao hadn't mentioned it, she sensed that wouldn't be good.
As she maintained concentration, Elder Gao's shout finally came.
"Pull the metal out—now!" Elder Gao roared. The fragments of Qing Xuanling's sword blade had melted into a glowing crimson liquid. "Place it before me!"
Qing Xuanling acted instantly—retrieving the tongs and positioning them before Elder Gao. Elder Gao swiftly poured the molten fragments through the opening, where they merged with the forming alloy inside the mold.
Yet Elder Gao's work wasn't finished. He tossed the steel bowl used to melt the fragments aside—and…
He reached out towards the mold at the end of the tweezers that Qing Xuanling was holding!
She nearly jerked her arm back from the sudden motion, but Elder Gao's roar halted her.
"Don't move!"
His voice immobilized Qing Xuanling as he gripped the searing-hot mold with an expressionless face despite the profound pain he endured—a pain he'd long grown accustomed to.
He moved swiftly, injecting Qi into the molten metal within the mold. The Qi spread like waves inside. The molten metal shifted in rhythm with the Qi, expelling impurities and uniformly fusing the six metal types within.
Qing Xuanling watched, stunned, until he finally withdrew his hand five minutes later.
"This… does this always happen?" Qing Xuanling murmured, brow furrowed. "I'm not in a position to advise you—but shouldn't you avoid such… barbaric methods?"
Xuan Dan would likely have spat blood hearing Qing Xuanling say this—but fortunately, she wasn't present.
Elder Gao merely shook his head with a smile tinged with pride. "Not something I do often—after all, it hurts me too. I only do this for swords I know will become masterpieces. It's a technique I personally created, so effective that I continue to use it despite the negative consequences."
He examined the palm of his sole arm—red and blistered, visibly painful. Yet he simply infused Qi into his hand, slightly accelerating regeneration.
Qing Xuanling frowned at this. "Open your mouth. This is a recovery pill."
She tossed the pill into Elder Gao's mouth, which he swallowed in one gulp.
"Hmph—not the best, but I suppose it'll suffice…" Elder Gao grimaced slightly at the pill's low quality.
Qing Xuanling snorted but let it pass, considering how much Elder Gao had exerted himself.
"What comes next?" She tilted her head. "I don't think you can do much with your hand like this."
Elder Gao nodded. "Obviously. That's why I said your sword would be ready in three days. Today's work is done. Your sword's sentience is currently too weakened—it couldn't survive being forged into a blade yet. You must nourish it with your Qi."
He instructed her to open the mold, revealing a silvery ingot covered in wave-like patterns across its surface. The ingot was strikingly beautiful—its reflections shimmering with five colors: red, green, blue, yellow, and white.
At a glance, it was clearly high-quality—understandable, given the high-grade metals used.
Qing Xuanling gazed entranced at the ingot. It was quite beautiful—especially knowing she'd helped create it. Elder Gao smirked upon seeing her dazed expression.
"Glad you like it—since you'll spend the next two nights injecting it with your Qi." Elder Gao regarded his work with a smile. "This ingot—a fusion known as the Five Elements Ingot—is a supreme-grade material."
"The ingot now contains your sword's weakened sentience. Your Qi will strengthen it sufficiently to begin forging a blade from this ingot. By the way—you must spend at least six hours infusing it with Qi. Timing doesn't matter, but I assume nighttime is when you're free."
Qing Xuanling nodded and grasped the still-warm Five Elements Ingot—warm but not enough to harm her Copper Skin. She smiled fondly.
"Of course—I'll spend even longer if I can. I won't let the little one inside this die."
"I'm glad." Elder Gao nodded satisfactorily and waved his hand. "You may go now. Today's work is finished—only the final day remains, in three days. So leave—I need to rest!"
Qing Xuanling smiled faintly at his bluntness and didn't leave immediately. Instead, she lingered a while longer, chatting about trivial matters. She stayed a full hour before finally being shooed out.
She felt the door slam firmly behind her with a smile. She gazed gratefully at the forge door. She truly wouldn't forget all Elder Gao had done for her.
Reflecting further—she'd received many unasked favors from this elder who'd clearly endured much. His missing arm was proof enough.
She would find a way to repay his kindness someday. Until then—she'd accept every favor with a grateful heart.
Her steps felt strangely light as she exited the ancestral forge. This time, she headed straight to her room. She planned to sleep a few hours before beginning to nourish the Five Elements Ingot with Qi.
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The Young Master's steps were light and silent as he walked through pavilions and buildings of deep green. A servant with light green hair guided him—he trembling violently.
The Young Master frowned, even more disgusted. He'd already felt repulsed walking through the Mo Clan's mortal district, witnessing their decadent, inhumane living conditions. But what truly shocked him was how they treated those who clearly carried their blood.
The Mo Clan possessed a distinctive trait: green hair resulting from centuries of experimenting with poison on their bodies. An enviable characteristic—even the Qing Clan lacked anything similar. At most, the Qing Clan had a higher population of red-haired individuals.
Yet instead of using such a unique trait to strengthen clan identity and unity, the Mo Clan created a foolish caste system based on the belief that darker green hair signified purer blood.
They maintained charts differentiating various green shades to determine one's caste. Dark green hair? You belonged to the Mo Clan's main branch. Medium green? You were part of the Deep Green group—the clan's infantry. Light green hair? You were merely a servant—living property at the main branch's mercy.
For this and many other reasons, the Qing Clan had always deeply despised the Mo Clan. Though the Qing Clan had drastically improved its treatment of mortals and common members since the Young Master began making decisions, they'd never been harsh. At most, they concentrated resources within family branches—entirely different from the Mo Clan's tyranny.
Thus, the Young Master rarely had reason to visit such a nauseating clan.
Until today.
Together with the clan head and elders, he'd waited for Qing Xuanling to awaken to learn precisely what occurred during that ambush night. Today—she'd finally awakened.
Thus, the Qing Clan moved immediately.
The Young Master ignored the venomous, malicious gazes from dozens of dark-green-haired youths and men as he approached the Mo Clan's decision hall—the Hall of the Seven Poisons.
The young servant guided him to a magnificent pavilion matching the clan's green tones and knocked on the great doors, his voice trembling:
"M-my lords—the g-guest has arrived!"
Silence hung in the pavilion for a moment before a voice deep and dark as a bottomless abyss resonated:
"Let him enter."
The light-green-haired youth nodded fearfully and swiftly opened the doors, allowing the Young Master to step into the Hall of the Seven Poisons' dark interior.
The Young Master smiled faintly like a spring breeze perfectly complementing his blue-green robes—and entered calmly. His footsteps echoed down the dark corridor like the calm, steady beats of his heart.
After walking a short distance, he reached a passage opening into a vast hall where seven pillars rose to the ceiling. Seven figures sat atop the pillars.
The Young Master's brow furrowed with clear disdain at the condescending arrangement.
The figure seated on the central pillar—a wrinkled man with exuberant green hair—looked down at him.
"Why has the heir of the despicable Qing Clan deigned to visit our glorious Mo Clan?"
The Young Master smirked with contempt. "Quite a sharp tongue, Clan Head Kuan. I'd offer another compliment—but that rotten, venomous tongue is the only thing worth mentioning. So let's skip formalities and address the main matter."
A profound aura, deep as the ocean, surged from the Young Master's body.
The figures surrounding the central pillar simultaneously unleashed their auras upon the Young Master, hurling insults in the process.
"Damn Qing rat—always so audacious! Even their heir enjoys tempting death…!"
"Leave this bastard to me—I swear I'll bathe him in Two Black Hearts Poison and Bloodthirsty Beetle Venom! He'll wish he were dead!"
"No—give him to me! I'll drown him in Five Senses Poison until he goes mad and send him back to the Qing Clan…!"
Insults and threats poured endlessly—but the Young Master's expression remained impassive. Even his smile stayed unchanged. The Mo Clan Head, Mo Kuan, frowned.
"What business does the Qing Clan have with our clan—may I ask?"
The Young Master scoffed and retrieved three heads from his spatial ring—each bearing light green hair.
"Clan Head Mo—cease pretending ignorance and immediately state what the Mo Clan intended by sending assassins against a member of our Qing Clan!" The Young Master's tone turned authoritative. "Give me a reason—immediately—or the entire Qing Clan will be ready to declare war at once!"
"Do not mistake this for a youth's empty words! I have our clan head's and elders' full support for this decision. Fail to provide a satisfactory answer—and prepare to suffer the Qing Clan's flames!"
The hall fell utterly silent—leaving only the Young Master's furious voice hanging in the air.