parentshiftbook Chapter 29, Armor
Chapter 29, Armor
Step onto the first stone step.
Shen Chi felt the air he was breathing suddenly become heavier. With each step upwards, the weight increased.
The lock-heart nails lined up on both sides of the stone steps, each three nails thicker than the ones below. The runes on the nails were densely packed, more numerous than all the words he had ever seen in his life.
His palms started to sweat. They were cold.
The Guardian Sword trembled slightly within the storage ring. The vibration traveled from the ring face to his fingers, up his arm, and finally rested precisely at the point where the Heart Seal was suppressed. It was as if someone had placed a hand on his chest, stabilizing him.
The stone steps were very long. Shen Chi counted to 172 before he could see the top.
The two iron doors were open, the door panels at least three fingers thick, with no decoration on the surface, just bare iron. But the color of the iron was unusual—like the color of dried blood.
Four guards stood at the entrance. Their eyes swept over at the same time.
The leader, a middle-aged man in his early forties, had a steady but not fierce gaze. He glanced at the four of them, his eyes lingering on Shen Chi for less than a second.
Shen Chi knew what he was looking at—the aura of the Heart Seal. It might have been able to hide outside the city, but after being pressed down for 172 steps on the stone steps, the aura was like water being squeezed out, seeping out little by little.
But the lead guard didn't react. He just watched.
Shi Jian stepped forward, took out a scroll from his pocket, and handed it over.
The leader took it, unfolded it, and glanced at it.
"A letter of recommendation from the Hundred Crafts Academy?" He read it aloud, his tone less like a question and more like confirming his judgment. "You're here to participate in the assessment?"
Shi Jian nodded: "Yes. This is the person who was recommended."
The leader glanced at Shen Chi, then at the hundred-refined hammer at his waist.
"The hammer is good."
Then he handed the document back to Shi Jian, tilted his head slightly, and said, "Let them pass."
------
As Shen Chi passed through the city gate, it felt as if he were passing through a curtain of water. It was as if something was pouring down from above, drenching him from head to toe. Cold. Heavy. Pressing.
In that instant, it felt as if someone had grasped my heart.
Shen Chi paused for a moment. He clenched his fist, letting the vibration of the Guardian Sword travel from the ring to his chest, resisting the pressure, and then continued walking.
Everything in the city unfolded before his eyes.
The street was a wide cobblestone path. The stone buildings on both sides were tall, with grayish-blue walls, and each window was very narrow—so narrow that a person couldn't even squeeze through sideways.
The streets were crowded. Vendors carrying loads on shoulder poles, uniformed guards, young people with cloth bags, merchants leading camels—it was ten times more lively than Qingxi Town. But the liveliness was only at the auditory level.
The person's eyes are not lively.
Everyone walked with their heads down, their gaze never exceeding three steps ahead. No one looked around, no one stopped to watch the commotion, no one stood on the street chatting. Everyone was walking—from one place to another, disappearing behind a door as soon as they finished.
Ah Zhu whispered beside her, "The nails here are driven into people's hearts."
Shen Chi turned his head to look at her.
Her gaze fell on the lock-nails pillars by the street. The pillars were thicker than those outside the city, and each one was emitting a very faint vibration, like countless needles hanging overhead, motionless, but ready to fall at any moment.
Mo Huaizhou also lowered his voice: "With such a high density of Heart-Locking Nails... this city itself is a mechanism, or rather, an array."
Without turning his head, Shi Jian added, "Tian Shu City is the central hub of the Heart-Locking Order. The density in the Forgetfulness Prison in the city center is ten times that of here. So—try not to cause trouble."
Shen remained silent. He was adjusting.
Adapt to the oppressive atmosphere within the city. Find a rhythm between your breathing and heartbeat and this oppressive atmosphere.
After walking for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Shi Jian stopped in front of a gray stone building.
There was no sign at the entrance, but an iron badge with an anvil and hammer crossed was embedded above the door.
"We've arrived," Shi Jian said. "The Hundred Crafts Institute. It's where the Tian Shu City Management Craftsmen Qualification is issued. With this certification, it'll be easier to get things done in the city, and you won't have to be questioned by the Enforcement Hall every time."
He pushed open the door.
It was bigger inside than it looked from the outside. A rectangular hall with rows of wooden chairs against the wall, waiting for five or six people. Directly in front was a long table, behind which sat a thin man in his fifties, with a gray beard and large knuckles.
He glanced at the people who came in, his gaze lingering on Shen Chi.
"Are you the one mentioned in the recommendation letter?"
Shen Chi nodded.
The examiner didn't waste any time and pointed to the side door: "Go in. Someone will meet you inside."
Shen Chi walked through a side door into a corridor. At the end of the corridor was a larger room, with several rows of iron shelves against the wall, displaying various material samples. In the center of the room was a long table covered with dark velvet, on which six pieces of material were neatly arranged.
Three candidates were already standing in front of the stage. Two men and one woman, all quite young, looking to be in their early twenties.
The examiner followed him in, holding a stick of incense.
"Identify the materials," he said. "Six pieces of material. State their names, grades, and uses. The time it takes for an incense stick to burn."
He inserted the incense sticks into the incense burner and lit them.
Three candidates immediately crowded around. One weighed the material in his hand, another scraped the surface with a knife to examine the cross-section, and yet another held the material up to the light to check its luster.
Shen Chi did not move.
He looked at it first.
The first material was ordinary, common pig iron. The second was a low-grade spiritual material, aconite cold iron. The third was a low-grade spiritual material, copper essence. He listed them one by one.
The examiner didn't speak, but Shen Chi noticed that he lowered his hands, which had been clasped in front of his chest, and placed them on the table.
The fourth piece.
Shen Chi's fingers paused for a moment when they touched it.
It is black in color and has fine silver veins on its cross-section. It weighs almost one-third more than cold iron of the same volume.
He touched it. It was cool. But beneath the coolness lay a faint warmth, like a person standing by a well, their reflection shimmering in the water.
Shen Chi flicked his finger. "Ding—" The sound was clear, with a slight upward spiking at the end, like the last part of a bell being cut off.
"Spiritual Material, Medium Grade. Ink Iron. When it encounters the power of the Ink Clan or the Oath Fire, it will develop intertwined branch patterns; when it encounters Lock Yuan, it will become dull and lose its luster. It can remember the blacksmith's power flow—with each forging, the memory within the iron deepens."
He paused for a moment.
"Purpose - Standard material for Mohist ritual implements."
When he finished speaking, the room was quiet for about three breaths.
The other three candidates stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him.
The examiner's finger stopped on the table.
"Say it again." The examiner's voice wasn't loud, but his tone had changed. "You just said—what kind of fire would produce patterns?"
Shen Chi did not repeat that sentence.
The examiner stared at him for a long time. Then he lowered his head and wrote two words on the rolled-up exam paper on the table.
A.
"The four-step material identification method of the Mo School," the examiner said without looking up. "The formula is 'Look at the grain, listen to the sound, feel the warmth, and quench in fire.' You only used the first three steps. You haven't even used the fourth. How did you learn that?"
Shen Chi replied, "I've studied a little."
The examiner stared at him for a long time. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
He didn't press the matter further. But as Shen Chi turned to walk towards the next room, the examiner took out a blank communication paper from the drawer, dipped it in ink, wrote a few words, folded it—unsealed, but placed it under the paperweight on the corner of the table.
Candidates who pass the material assessment proceed to the next room—the casting room.
This room was even larger, with six forging furnaces lined up against the wall. The furnaces were already burning, but not with charcoal; they were fueled by the Locking Yuan—the flames were white, the temperature was stable, but there was no "soul." Shen Chi sensed this as soon as he entered—this kind of fire could melt iron, but it couldn't forge objects with memories.
Each person received a set of examination materials. Shen Chi received a metal tray containing a fist-sized iron ingot, with a blueprint next to it—a standard-issue short blade.
When he picked up the billet, a few fine black particles slid off the bottom of the tray.
Very small. Like gravel. Mixed in with furnace ash and iron filings.
But Shen Chigang had touched the black iron before. He wouldn't be mistaken—this was black iron shavings.
Without making a sound, he gathered the crumbs with his fingertips, collected them in his palm, and put them in his pocket. Then he turned and walked towards the forge.
In the material storage room of the Hundred Crafts Institute in Tian Shu City, there was black iron mixed in. He remembered this.
Shen Chi stood in front of the forge and reached out to test the temperature of the fire.
A wisp of the oath flame seeped from his palm. The heart seal had already been suppressed outside the city, and the suppression doubled once inside, making the oath flame as weak as a candle flickering in the wind. The flame danced twice on his fingertips before extinguishing.
No, that won't work. Nothing will be output this way.
Shen Chi closed his eyes.
He didn't rush to activate the Heart Seal, but instead focused his attention on his chest. It was still beating, the rhythm wasn't off, it was just being suppressed.
He recalled the feeling of natural flow of power within the Three Powers Guarding the Heart Formation outside the city that morning. The cycle doesn't require resistance; it simply follows the natural flow.
Shen Chi adjusted his breathing. He didn't urge the Oath Fire on, but instead let his heart seal adapt to the suppressive force on its own.
The suppressive force was still there. The power hadn't weakened, but Shen Chi's perception had changed.
The heart's imprint begins to resemble fire beneath the water; the temperature doesn't drop, but instead accumulates.
He reopened his eyes and reached his hand into the fire.
When the oath flames were lit again, their color was a shade darker than that outside the city.
He picked up the iron billet and put it on the fire.
Let's start hammering.
Shen Chi didn't need to think during the forging process. His hands knew what to do. Mo Chenzi said his hands remembered more than his brain, and that was true.
He hit him.
Hammer after hammer, not fast, but precise. Each strike lands in the same spot, and the iron billet deforms little by little under the hammer—from a cube into a strip, then from a strip into a sheet, and then from a sheet into the outline of a blade.
He didn't need to look at the blueprints. He had already memorized the short blades on the blueprints. But he was doing something that wasn't written on the blueprints—he was forging the "weight" he had felt from the pressure of the lock-heart nail and the adaptation to the heart imprint into the iron.
When he struck for the fortieth time, he felt as if the Heart Seal had been squeezed tightly and then released. The power that had been suppressed all day did not leak out, but instead pressed inward into the core of the Heart Seal, making the space inside even more solid.
The time is right.
When the incense burned out, Shen Chi stopped hammering.
The short blade was quenched in cold water, and steam rose up.
He pulled it out of the water. The shape was perfect. The blade was even. The dimensions were exactly the same as the drawing. But there was a very faint, dark pattern on the blade.
Shen Chi placed the short blade on the tray and wiped his hands.
The examiner picked up a short knife.
Instead of examining the shape, he held the blade up to the light at an angle—to look at the grain. Then he tapped the blade with his knuckles and listened to the sound. Finally, he ran his thumb along the blade to feel the temperature of the iron.
Put down the knife.
He spoke softly, but everyone in the room heard him.
"This is not just the level of a craftsman. This is the skill of a master craftsman."
He looked at Shen Chi: "What's your name?"
"Shen Chi."
The examiner took out a silver-white metal plaque from under the table. The front was engraved with "Baigongyuan·Special License·Shen Chi" and the back had an anvil and hammer emblem.
He pushed the silver medal in front of Shen Chi.
"First place. Special travel permit. With this, you can move freely throughout most of the city—you can be exempt from routine checks by the Enforcement Hall."
Shen Chi accepted the silver medal.
The moment he touched it, he felt it. At the spot where the heart imprint was beating, it felt as if something was growing out from within and filling it completely.
Previously, during the middle stage, the Heart Seal was "drawn inward." It was like a ball of fire being squeezed into a small space, the flames swirling inside, not leaking out, but constantly turning. Now it's different—after experiencing the two fires working together in the canyon, after the suppression by the chains outside the city, after the pressure of the 172 steps on the stone steps, after adapting during the forging in the Hundred Crafts Institute—that ball of fire, suppressed again and again, has found a new balance point at the end of the pressure.
The fire didn't grow bigger. Nor did it become brighter. It simply became more solid, like a piece of iron that had been repeatedly forged a thousand times and no longer deformed.
—The bronze seal is complete.
Shen Chi glanced down at his chest. The suppressive force was still there. The buzzing of the heart-locking nails in the city was still there. But it was no longer something to be fought against. It was more like background noise—he knew it was there, but it could no longer suppress him.
------
Shen Chi held the silver medal in his palm and walked out of the Hundred Crafts Courtyard.
As dusk approached, the streetlights began to illuminate the streets one by one—not oil lamps, but luminous crystals embedded in iron pillars, their pale white light making faces appear as white as paper.
When Mo Huaizhou saw Shen Chi come out, his gaze lingered on Shen Chi's face for a moment, and then looked at the silver token in Shen Chi's hand.
"The Hundred Crafts Institute's license. It's somewhat useful."
After he finished speaking, he fell silent again. Shen Chi knew he didn't like to talk much, so this was already a rare compliment.
A-Zhu walked up to Shen Chi. She glanced at him and said, "Brother Shen Chi, the lines on your chest have become more pronounced."
Shen Chi nodded.
Shi Jian emerged from the shadows, his gaze landing on Shen Chi's face: "Oh, you've broken through!"
"Let's go, let's find a place to stay first. The Enforcement Hall will come to verify your identity on your first night in the city, don't panic, it's normal procedure."
The four walked along the main street for a while. Most of the shops along the street were still open, selling iron, medicine, and food. One shop had an iron plate set up in front of it, on which brown pancakes were being fried, steaming hot, and the aroma of oil and wheat wafted over.
Ah Zhu glanced at the pancake.
Shen Chi also glanced at it.
Then he took out three iron coins—the ones Shi Jian had given him when he entered the city—and bought four cakes. They were warm, wrapped in oil paper. He handed one to Azhu, one to Mo Huaizhou, and one to Shi Jian.
Ah-Zhu took a bite. "It's salty."
------
The four of them finished their pancakes standing on the street. When Shen Chi finished the last bite, his hand touched the few fragments of black iron in his pocket.
It was very small. Almost invisible in the palm of your hand. But it was definitely black iron. He wondered, how did this thing end up in the Hundred Crafts Academy's material storage? Did someone accidentally sneak it in, or was it placed there intentionally?
Shi Jian requested several rooms at the Iron Anvil Inn.
The rooms were all small. There was a bed, a table, and a lamp. The windows faced the street, and you could see the roof tiles on the opposite roof. Thin chains connected the tiles—the transmission chains for the lock pins.
Shen Chi sat on the edge of the bed, took out the few fragments of black iron, and placed them on the table.
He stared at it for a long time.
Someone in Tian Shu City is using Ink Iron. Ink Iron scraps have gotten mixed into the Crafts Institute's material storage—this is no accident. Ink Iron isn't an ordinary material; it doesn't just appear in Tian Shu City's scrap heaps on its own. Someone is using it, someone is processing it, someone is consuming it. Ore fragments or scraps fall into the material storage and then end up in his material tray.
Who's using iron ore? How did they get it? Wasn't the mine sealed off?
He put the debris into his storage ring and looked out the window.
In the center of the city, a lamp shone atop a tall tower. The lamp was warm-colored—unlike the stark white crystals on the street, it was yellow, bright but not glaring, like an oil lamp placed on a windowsill.
------
"Knock knock".
knocking.
Shen Chi turned his head: "Who?"
There was a brief silence outside the door. Then, voices could be heard.
"Enforcement Hall. Routine patrol; identity information of those entering the city today needs to be confirmed."
Shen Chi didn't get up immediately. He first glanced at the hundred-refined hammer at the corner of the bed. Then he looked at the table—nothing was left there.
He stood up and walked towards the door.
The door opened.
A young woman was standing at the door.
She wore a grey Enforcement Hall uniform, with a silver badge pinned to her chest—two crossed locks with a nail in the middle, beneath which lay an open file. The Enforcer's badge. Her hair was tightly bound, without a single stray hair. Her face was expressionless, like a still pond, without a ripple when there was no wind.
Her gaze was level with his.
"Name."
"Shen Chi."
She glanced down and made a mark on the roster in her hand—quick, precise, and efficient.
Then she looked up and glanced at him.
That glance was fleeting. Less than a breath.
But Shen Chi noticed—her gaze lingered on his chest for a moment.
He knew what she was looking at.
"Confirmation complete. Sorry to bother you."
She closed the register and turned away.
The footsteps faded away down the corridor, neither fast nor slow, each step covering almost the same distance.
Shen Chi closed the door.
He stood behind the door for about five breaths.
He was certain he had never seen that woman before. But the way she glanced at his chest was no accident.
The people from the Enforcement Hall came to our door on their very first day in the city.
Shen Chi placed the hundred-refined hammer beside his pillow and lay down.
Never mind all that. I need to get some sleep tonight.
Tomorrow, I will go to see the old master.