Chapter 92: Chapter 84: The Yan Province Armory
Although both are buried underground, the weapon storage in Yanzhou is quite different from that in Jizhou.
The most obvious difference lies in the decoration. Unlike the rough passageways and storage rooms of Jizhou, the ones in Yanzhou are paved with bluestone, with torches on either side of the passageways for illumination, making it not as dark as one might expect underground.
"This is money well spent..."
Du Chengfeng couldn’t help but sigh. Compared to the weapon storage in Yanzhou in front of him, the one he had visited in the northern part of Jizhou seemed somewhat shabby.
However, a unique scent soon caught Du Chengfeng’s attention.
It wasn’t the bloody, rusty smell of Jibei; instead, it was a richer fragrance. When Du Chengfeng casually opened a storage room, he indeed saw rows of neatly stacked wine jars inside.
All kinds of weapons like knives, spears, swords, and halberds were soaked in wine jars, and the entire storage room was filled with a heady aroma that was intoxicating with just a whiff.
Clearly, this was the handiwork of Liu Bolun, the former chief armament officer of Yanzhou.
One must say that Liu Bolun’s method was indeed effortless. Originally, Du Chengfeng was puzzled that such a large armory only needed one chief armament officer to manage it, wondering if that was too few people. But now it seemed everyone had their own way of idling.
Just like now, when Du Chengfeng casually pulled a waist knife out of the wine jar, he saw that there was no rust or dirt on it, not even a speck of dust. Although it had been sitting there for who knows how many years, it was still gleaming and extremely sharp.
One must admit, Liu Bolun’s homemade wine really had some magic to it—who knows how it was brewed. He had previously taken a few jars to entertain the sparrow hawk, which was a bit of a waste of good things.
"Luckily, there are still quite a few wine jars at home, so I’ll just toss my saber into a wine jar when I get back."
Du Chengfeng remembered his heavy great saber, which was quite fond of good wine.
He thought Liu Bolun’s private brew would certainly please his saber for a while.
The deeper he went, the stronger the fragrance became, which also meant the weapons inside would be fiercer. Others might have stopped at this point or even turned back, but for Du Chengfeng, he wanted these fierce weapons.
The weapons outside, though sharp and hard to resist, were seen by Du Chengfeng as ordinary and mostly unused in battle. Holding a rare divine soldiers like his heavy great saber, he naturally didn’t care for these mundane items. If he were to take one, he would undoubtedly take the strongest and the best.
With this mindset, Du Chengfeng pushed open the door to the innermost storage room.
But this time, Du Chengfeng did not smell any wine aroma.
The innermost room didn’t even look like a storage room. There were no wine jars commonly seen in Yanzhou, nor weapon racks from Jizhou, only a large character for "Ren" painted on the wall facing the door.
Under the ink was an old, hanging sword.
The old sword was not long and seemed quite plain, with its wooden scabbard covered in dust. To anyone, it would likely seem no more than ordinary iron.
But at that moment, Du Chengfeng was as if facing a formidable enemy.
The intuition in his mind was frantically warning him that this could not be an ordinary sword, and it might be best for him to back away immediately, lest he face unspeakable consequences.
"But this is precisely what I want."
Taking a deep breath, Du Chengfeng reached for the old sword.
To Du Chengfeng’s surprise, nothing happened when he picked up the sword.
Although the strange sword was quite heavy in his hand, Du Chengfeng could feel that it did not reject him.
Nor did it drive him insane.
"Wait a minute, has this thing never killed anyone?"
Not sensing any evil qi from weaponry, Du Chengfeng was momentarily stunned.
It didn’t make sense. His earlier feelings couldn’t be wrong. The mere presence of this old sword there already made him feel an extreme danger. How could such a formidable weapon have never been stained with blood?
In his confusion, Du Chengfeng unsheathed the blade.
Compared to other light and swift blades, this old sword seemed excessively thick, more like a club than a sword—the heavy edge couldn’t cut through flesh and might be more effective for bludgeoning.
"Who would use such a thing as a weapon?"
Du Chengfeng couldn’t help but feel puzzled and instinctively took out the Grinding Stone.
Though he wasn’t quite sure if something that hadn’t killed could be sharpened, having already taken this strange sword, he might as well give it a try.
Thinking this, Du Chengfeng completely unsheathed the strange sword and placed it on the Grinding Stone.
The scratches on the blade testified to past glories, and the dust on the hilt was the mark of time’s passing.
To Du Chengfeng’s surprise, this strange sword could indeed be sharpened.
Simply because, despite never having killed anyone, the sword had been extremely frequently used.
After all, the sword’s previous owner had quite the notion.
"I want a rectangular sword."
The sword’s previous owner had made this request to the blacksmith; he was a scholar.
The blacksmith naturally did as he was paid to do, but others thought this person must have lost his mind. Everyone knew the art of swordsmanship valued lightness, swiftness, and sharpness. There were those skilled enough to strike a fly in mid-air or chop a lit incense stick without extinguishing the flame, with steel being refined steel and the sword a three-foot blade—this was the gentleman’s way.
Yet this eccentric person opened his mouth and asked for a rectangular sword. Could it be that he read too much and became muddled?
"You all focus too much on slaughter, failing to understand the philosophy of extreme rigidity leading to fragility. That’s truly reading to no avail."
Facing the ridicule from his fellow scholars, the man who ordered the sword argued his case.
"Very well, since you’ve all forgotten the basic principle of ’Ren,’ once the sword is forged, I shall educate you on the meaning of a gentleman’s sword!"
Back then, the remnants of martial spirit were still present among the populace, and it was common to settle scores with swords, as long as they stopped at the agreed point without causing death, it wasn’t much of an issue.
But even stopping at an agreed point had its nuances.
Not touching the body with the blade could be stopping at a point; opening a small cut accidentally in a non-critical area could also be seen as such. It was not surprising the scholars were indignant after being chastised, thus they conspired to draw some blood from the arrogant young man, to show him some color.
But who could have anticipated that on the day of the agreed duel, all their light and swift blades would be broken by the heavy "Rectangular Sword" on site?
With the first swing, the blade shattered; with the second, bones were broken. Throughout thirteen consecutive rounds of combat, the man who ordered the sword used just these two moves, yet none of the scholars could withstand him.
"My sword indeed has no edge, but your sharp swords cannot withstand my bladeless sword."
Amidst the fallen scholars writhing in pain from broken bones, the sword-ordering man held the blunt, heavy sword with an unchanging expression.
"This is the principle of Ren."
This time, the scholars collectively bowed their heads in agreement, muttering without rebuttal.
The name of the man who ordered the sword then spread throughout Jiankang, the capital city of the Great Chen dynasty.
He was none other than Ruan Shantao in his youth.
