My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting
Chapter 225 – Finding a Weaponsmith to Be My Father-in-Law - Part 3

Chapter 225 – Finding a Weaponsmith to Be My Father-in-Law - Part 3

Li Yuan received a response from the Cui Clan. To his surprise, the clan head himself delivered it in person. After a lengthy discussion, Cui Heng departed, and Li Yuan agreed to make an official visit in the coming days.

Once Cui Heng left, Li Yuan sat for a moment to let the new information sink in.

Yin Consort? The Emperor’s consort? She was just conferred her title when the Emperor fled?

But that was six years ago; any chaos tied to that should have settled by now. And if it hadn’t, well, he did have the human-skin manacles, though he wasn’t keen on using it against the woman he hoped to share his life with. Still, it was an option if push came to shove.

Li Yuan thought about it from another angle. If he married the Yin Consort, not only could he learn her father’s smithing skills, he might also gain insight into imperial secrets—giving him a deeper understanding of this world. In other words, he could maximize the benefits of this marriage alliance.

With that in mind, he recalled what Cui Heng had just told him about the Yin Consort. She was proud, had a strong sense of vanity, carried herself as if she were above the mortal realm, and loved poetry above all else.

Scratching his head, Li Yuan remembered how he had spent ages revising old poems back when he was trying to create his own cultivation technique. At least that might help here. Not because he’d already fallen for this woman—he had never even seen her face—but because he had his own objectives for the marriage.

“Well, I’ll just go and see what happens,” he murmured.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

The next day.

Li Yuan arrived at the Cui residence by carriage.

Many onlookers had gathered. Everyone knew he was here to face a sort of trial, because he was the man daring to seek marriage with the Yin Consort.

The woman the Cui Clan had originally offered him didn’t seem upset that he’d changed his mind; alliances rarely involved genuine emotion, after all. Still, out of curiosity, she had her maids keeping tabs on him.

Soon, Li Yuan was escorted to a secluded courtyard. The guide stopped and said, “Lord Li, this is it. You’ll have to go on your own from here.”

Li Yuan nodded, recalling that Cui Heng had already explained the situation in detail.

Stepping forward, he knocked lightly on the door. “Miss Cui, I’m Li Yuan. Forgive my intrusion; I’m here hoping for a chance to speak.”

No one answered, but after a moment, the door opened a crack, and a long-legged maid with twin-bun pigtails peeked out, blinking her big eyes as she assessed his appearance and bearing. Apparently deciding he looked all right, she said, “Lord Li, please come inside. My lady doesn’t like a crowd.”

At a glance, Li Yuan noticed that this maid was also seventh-rank. He could see other servants peeking around corners, clearly curious. Turning back to the maid, he said politely, “I’ll trouble you, then.”

Following her in, Li Yuan heard the door shut behind them. Suddenly, the maid murmured, “The clan head told you, didn’t he? My lady loves poetry. Did you come prepared?”

Surprised, Li Yuan regarded her closely. She seemed like an unexpected ally. Keeping his voice low, he asked, “Will there be a specific prompt, or do I need to come up with something on the spot?”

Equally curious about his easygoing manner, the maid hesitated. Most sixth rank martial artists wouldn’t treat a lowly servant so politely. Of course, few knew she herself was seventh rank.

“What’s wrong?” Li Yuan prompted her gently.

Snapping out of it, the maid asked quietly, “You really intend to marry my lady?”

He paused. “Do you want the honest truth?”

She nodded. “Yes, please.”

He gave a tiny sigh, as though letting slip a genuine confession. “Yes. I do.” Then he bowed his head in a shy, almost vulnerable gesture—an expression he’d once seen an award-winning actor pull off flawlessly on television back in his old life. It never failed to make an impact.

Sure enough, the maid just stared. He’s so sincere... She found her voice and asked, “Have you ever even seen my lady? How do you know she’s—”

Before she could finish, a cool voice echoed from deeper inside the courtyard. “Yao Jue.”

Rolling her eyes, the maid said in a playful whisper, “She’s urging us on.” Then she called out in a louder voice, “Coming, my lady!”

They made their way through the courtyard, lush greenery spilling over from every corner. A recent rain had beaten down most of the crabapple blossoms; only a few remained on the branches. If Li Yuan paid close attention, he could catch a faint whiff of wine in the air...subtle, but impossible for him to miss.

“We’re almost there,” the maid said in a hushed tone. “Please do your best to win her over.” Then she dashed ahead to open a nearby door and slipped inside.

Through the oiled-paper windows, Li Yuan could vaguely see two female silhouettes conversing softly. Moments later, the maid’s voice drifted back out to him from behind the closed door...

“Lord Li, my lady wants you to recite some poetry for her.”

Silence fell over the courtyard for a moment. Then Li Yuan’s clear voice rose in measured cadence—

“Last night, the rain was sparse, yet the wind blew fierce;

A drowsy sleep could not dispel the lingering wine.

I asked the one rolling up the blinds—

Are the crabapple blossoms still there?

She answered that they still remain.

I lament, do you know, do you not know?

The leaves are lush while the blossoms fade.”

This was, of course, a poem from his former world, a piece by Li Qingzhao.[1]

Once he finished reciting, silence fell inside. A long while passed before a cool voice spoke, “You want to learn smithing from Master Zhu, yes? Very well, I’ll write a letter for you to take to him. In it, I’ll explain that you are my husband. But only on paper. Lord Li, do you understand what that means?”

Li Yuan realized he should tread carefully. At least she was willing to help him approach his main goal. He was about to speak when he heard the maid inside cough lightly, as though to warn him. Catching on, he swallowed his words and said, “I would very much like to meet you, my lady.”

With that, the door swung open. A woman of stately beauty stood there, chin lifted with a regal air. Her gaze was calm and measured, betraying no warmth as it fell on him. “I was conferred the title of Yin Consort by the Emperor,” she said coolly. “You can’t simply marry me.”

Li Yuan met her eyes. “I want to,” he said.

She studied him for a moment. “I was the Emperor’s consort...yet circumstances have kept me here these past six years. I have no desire to marry again. Still, I do admire your talent.”

The long-legged maid, Yao Jue, sidled up and whispered, “My lady, we’ve been here in limbo for ages. Lord Li’s gifted, why not go with him? He might recite more beautiful poems for you.”

Cui Huayin’s face flickered with a hint of interest, but her manner remained aloof. She addressed Li Yuan again, “First, seek out Master Zhu. If you can truly inherit his smithing, then I will marry you and entrust my future to you. But be warned, even with my letter, there’s no guarantee he’ll let you learn.”

Li Yuan felt a quiet relief. Glancing over Cui Huayin’s shoulder, he caught sight of the maid winking at him triumphantly. So that initial offer of writing a letter was merely a ploy. The genuine test was this.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Three days later.

Early in the morning, Li Yuan rode out of the city, letter in hand, to a mountain beyond the walls. Clouds shrouded the slopes, and from the cliff’s edge he could see a vast expanse of forest. The winding path and its tranquil scenery lent the place the feel of a hidden retreat.

Before long, he heard the clanging of metal on metal. Rounding a bend, he spotted a line of burly men at their anvils by a rushing stream, hammering away at molten iron. Slightly upriver, a solemn-faced middle-aged man lay in a rocking chair, lazily taking in the sights. His sixth rank reading of 990~1,440 flashed above him in Li Yuan’s vision, unusually large in range.

This was Master Zhu, one of the two recognized weaponsmiths in the Holy Tree Temple.

Li Yuan greeted him respectfully and handed over the Yin Consort’s letter. Master Zhu, who had already heard word of his imminent arrival, read it in silence for a long time. At last, he lowered his gaze and said, “We’re both sixth rank, so I shouldn’t act too haughty. But if it’s about passing on my secrets, then forgive me for being blunt.”

“I understand, Father-in-law,” Li Yuan replied, as politely as ever.

The older man’s eyes flickered. “So you’re calling me Father-in-law already...” He paused, considering Li Yuan. “Well, the Cui Clan regularly sends promising smiths to train under me. If you’re truly serious, start by working the forge...like any other blacksmith.”

To his surprise, Li Yuan didn’t protest. Instead, he bowed. “As you say, it’s only right.”

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Half a month later.

In the blacksmith’s shop, a young man stood stripped to the waist, swinging a heavy hammer. Each strike sent sparks flying, skillfully reshaping the iron billet before him. Over his head glowed a line of data that read...

1. Here’s the first translation of the poem I found. For obvious reasons, I just decided to translate it myself instead of being lazy. But I really wanted to be lazy... ☜