Lin Xia listened quietly, already grasping both the situation and Lou Gao's stance.
Looking at his teacher's exhausted, anger-lined face, a clear and complete plan finally took shape in his mind.
He didn't voice it right away. Instead, he refilled Lou Gao's teacup and spoke softly,
"Teacher, you've worked hard. Have some tea and calm down. This debt will be settled sooner or later."
"But we must do it the right way."
"Teacher."
Lin Xia's voice was steady and composed, cutting through the brief silence with a calm far beyond his years.
"Your disciple wishes to ask you something."
Lou Gao paused with the teacup halfway to his lips. He looked up at Lin Xia, clearly surprised by how calm and collected the boy was at this moment. Setting the cup down, he gestured for him to continue.
"What is your true view… of Spirit Hall?"
"Putting Miles aside, have you ever considered… any form of cooperation with Spirit Hall itself?"
Lou Gao's head snapped around.
His weathered eyes widened instantly, burning like a furnace as he stared at Lin Xia in disbelief and confusion. His expression practically screamed—
Are you out of your mind? You're asking this now?!
Lin Xia met his shocked gaze without the slightest hesitation or panic. Instead, his tone grew even more serious.
"Teacher, this can't go on."
"Someone like Miles is greedy by nature, without limits. To him, the Blacksmith Association is nothing more than his personal backyard and a bottomless money pouch."
"If he can forcefully demand Purple Lightning Iron Ore today, he'll invent new excuses tomorrow to plunder even more. If we confront him head-on, maybe we can endure once… twice. But ten times? A hundred?"
"The moment he's pushed into a corner—or the moment we make even a single mistake—the price could be the collapse of the entire Association."
Lin Xia spoke faster now, his words sharp and incisive.
"As for Spirit Hall itself—that colossal organization—what is its foundation? Faith in the Angel God. The creed of 'maintaining order and benefiting the people.' At least, that's what they proclaim."
"Does a degenerate like Miles, bullying civilians and committing atrocities in Gengjin City, truly align with Spirit Hall's will? Does he fit the doctrine they preach?"
"I don't believe he does."
"Perhaps we can take the initiative—contact the higher levels of Spirit Hall. Seek cooperation, or even… integrate into their system."
"We trade our real value for the protection and support of the Supreme Pontiff. That way, we can eliminate Miles completely and secure a stable future for the Association—and for every craftsman who depends on it to survive."
The shock on Lou Gao's face gradually faded, replaced by an unprecedented solemnity.
He studied the disciple before him carefully, as if seeing him for the first time.
These were not reckless words spoken on impulse. They were the result of careful thought and clear analysis.
That maturity beyond his years, that grasp of the bigger picture, forced Lou Gao to take the proposal seriously.
He remained silent for a long time, his brows furrowed deeply. Anger, hesitation, and calculation flickered endlessly in his eyes.
At last, he slowly shook his head. His voice was heavy with fatigue and helplessness.
"Little Xia… I understand your intentions. Your idea is bold—innovative, even."
"But it won't work."
Lou Gao let out a long sigh.
"To Spirit Hall, the Blacksmith Association is ultimately an outsider. We are artisans who exist outside their system."
"No matter how despicable Miles is, that red robe makes him Spirit Hall's representative in Gengjin City."
"No matter how vile his actions are, the higher-ups will likely see them as minor excesses of a local official—or even as necessary measures to control regional resources."
"If we go to them to complain? To seek cooperation? In their eyes, that would be outsiders meddling in their internal affairs—a provocation."
"Why would they abandon a bishop and support a group of blacksmiths instead?"
World-weariness showed clearly in Lou Gao's eyes.
"You're still young. Your thinking is good, but don't see people—or the world—too simply."
"Spirit Hall is riddled with factions. Their interests are deeply entangled. If we approach them rashly, not only will we gain no protection—we might not even leave our bones behind."
He paused, deep pain surfacing on his face.
"And besides…"
"How can I, Lou Gao… face my old friend Tai Tan?"
"The feud between the Strength Clan and Spirit Hall is a blood feud."
"If I lead the Association into Spirit Hall, wouldn't that be… stabbing my brother in the back?"
"How could I ever face him?"
Lin Xia was not surprised by Lou Gao's refusal or his anguish.
He understood his teacher's loyalty and righteousness, and his deep-rooted distrust of Spirit Hall.
Still, Lin Xia drew a deep breath and asked the one question Lou Gao could not avoid.
His voice was quiet—but it struck like a hammer.
"Teacher."
His gaze sharpened, piercing straight into Lou Gao's heart.
"Then tell me—do the lives and livelihoods of the ordinary craftsmen in the Blacksmith Association matter?"
"Those who rely on you and the Association to feed their families and live with dignity—do they matter?"
"You took me to that abandoned mine. You personally gathered the remains."
"Teacher, were the miner brothers who died there important? When their families lost their pillars of support, did their livelihoods matter?"
"Miles dared to barge in and extort us today. Tomorrow, he will go even further."
"He injured our guards today. Tomorrow, his deacons will openly oppress our artisans and seize their hard-earned money."
"If this continues, the Association will live in fear. Artisans will lose their livelihoods. Their wives and children will starve and freeze."
"Teacher—is this the future you want to see?"
"While you protect your loyalty to Senior Tai Tan, can you truly stand by and watch more brothers, more families in the Association fall into suffering… or even despair?"
Each word struck like cold steel, piercing the softest and most painful part of Lou Gao's heart.
The pale skeletons in the mine. Miles's arrogant face. The humiliation on the guards' expressions. The worried eyes of ordinary blacksmiths—
Countless images collided violently in his mind.
Lou Gao's tall frame trembled as if struck by an invisible blow.
He closed his eyes, his face contorting in pain. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, fingernails digging deep into his palms.
The chill of the miners' remains seemed to seep into his bones once more.
Tai Tan's face overlapped with the honest faces of countless Association craftsmen.
The backyard fell into deathly silence.
Only the faint crackle of electricity—released unintentionally from Larvitar as energy surged within its body—broke the stillness, unnervingly clear in the frozen air.