The Beautiful Boss's Personal Bodyguard
Chapter 180

Chapter 180: Chapter 180

"Three village nails, weighing three taels and three cents, two inches and five points long, and additionally five Meteor Hammers, needing eighty-one hammer nails, forty-nine Chain Rings, weighing five jin six taels and three cents, neither a bit more nor a bit less." Dressed in Zhongshan attire, Li Jing was sipping tea while muttering a series of complex numbers, as if for him, everything could be explained with the most precise figures.

The blacksmith hammered down the final time, then soused the shaped kitchen knife into cold water before stuffing it back into the furnace.

Only when he turned around could one see that this blacksmith, unlike others, didn’t wear thick gloves; instead, he was directly gripping the glowing-hot iron with his hands. His hands were so rough and dark that it was more apt to describe them as ’paws’ rather than human hands.

"I’m sorry, I don’t have the items you are asking for."

The blacksmith, with his towering figure, sat down, and the wooden stool underneath him creaked noisily for a while before it finally quieted down.

Men drink water, no need for a tea cup, different from Li Jing, the blacksmith simply picked up the teapot and drank directly from it, the tea gulped down into his stomach as his Adam’s apple bobbed.

"If you don’t have these, I’ll have to ask for something else."

"That depends on what you want. Maybe if I’m in a good mood, I can indulge you in this pot of tea."

"Heh, you, a blacksmith, drinking this national tribute Dahongpao Tea, it really is quite the waste."

"As long as it’s tea, it’s meant for drinking. Since it’s meant for drinking, how it’s drunk doesn’t matter. Drinking like that is pretentious. My way of drinking is to quench thirst. We’re not the same; you better leave."

Li Jing didn’t mind that the blacksmith had been drinking mouth to mouth, and he just poured himself some more tea in the now-empty cup in front of him, this Dahongpao Tea would be less each time it was drunk.

"Remember the Tu family from Nanjing?"

Li Jing’s casual remark made the blacksmith’s thick eyebrows suddenly furrow. After gulping down another big mouthful of tea, he then asked, "Did the Tu family send you?"

"Taking money to relieve others of disasters, the Tu family said, your arm is worth a hundred thousand, a leg two hundred thousand, an eye five hundred thousand, a life one cent."

"So are you here for my leg, my arm, or perhaps, you want to gouge out my eye?" The blacksmith spoke with a resounding voice, and from his tone, one could tell he was not an easygoing person.

"I’ve always killed for money. The Tu family made your life quite cheap; no one is willing to take this job, and those who take it might end up losing their own lives. But I’m different; I love money, even more than my own life, so here I am."

"You really are about money over life, huh."

The blacksmith suddenly shoved the table as the words were still leaving his mouth. The willow wood table rushed towards Li Jing; getting hit by this thing would definitely hurt. Although the blacksmith didn’t expect this strike to defeat the thirty-year-old enigmatic legend, he was momentarily stunned by his next move. However, in the blink of an eye, he grabbed a plow hoe from the wall behind him, tied a chain around it, and quickly assembled a Meteor Hammer.

Li Jing steadied the table and calmly drew a gleaming Green Feather Soft Sword from beneath it. The blade was so flexible that it almost bent in half limply.

"In the worldly society, people say the blacksmith wields not a nine-ringed ghost head knife but a Green Feather Soft Sword. I didn’t believe it at first, but now, I do."

The blacksmith was frustrated and irritated that his own weapon was taken by someone else.

Li Jing examined the Soft Sword and said, "You really shouldn’t be angry. I can assure you, I wield this sword better than you could. And if this gets out, it’s no shame on you."

The blacksmith’s heart clenched.

Miao Li Town, named so because it once belonged entirely to the Li family - the young man in front of him. However, like most during the decade of turmoil, the Li family couldn’t escape disaster. After several political movements, only a few members remained, and the Li family fell into decline.

But the legend of the Sword God persisted in the worldly society, referring to this handsome young man. At thirteen he defeated his own father, at fifteen he overcame his grandfather, and at sixteen he ventured into the worldly society. His swordsmanship was unparalleled, with none to match.

From the moment he stepped into the shop, the blacksmith knew he would likely meet his end today.

The Cold light flickered; the Green Feather Soft Sword tore through the air and charged.

Fast! Such incredible speed in his sword strikes! Could there truly be a Sword God?

A fierce aura shot from the tip of the sword, and although he knew he was in extreme danger, the blacksmith couldn’t move his weapon at all, utterly pinned against the wall. In the end, all he felt was a cold sensation on his neck as the man in the black Zhongshan suit stood at a distance with the sword, its familiar tip dripping blood, staining a large area of the ground red.

"The old grandpa once said you were a good man for half your life, a commoner for the other half. Remembering you did no evil in your later years, I’ll leave your body intact. Is that not generous?"

Watching the silhouette slowly leaving the shop, the blacksmith slowly closed his eyes, a slight smile appearing on his wrinkled face, the most radiant he had ever displayed.

Leaving the blacksmith his whole body meant he didn’t get a single penny. Li Jing pondered whether to take another job as he rode the second-hand bicycle he had bought toward the market.

The hygiene at this market wasn’t great, but the prices were cheap, and, if one had experience, you could still find a few honest stalls with decent goods. Li Jing was one of those experienced ones. After some haggling, he headed home with a full bag of groceries.

Li Jing had a younger sister, Li Ruoshui, whom their grandfather once likened to a scoop of water from the Ruishui River in Xinjiang, unique and standing alone. Thus the name Ruoshui, and later altered by Li Jing. Despite needing dialysis twice a week and being frailer, he didn’t want to confront this reality in her name every day.

Dialysis cost 300 yuan a session, twice a week adding up to six hundred yuan, eight times a month equaled 2,400 yuan, and annually it summed up to thirty thousand yuan. This wasn’t a huge sum, but for Li Jing without a steady job, it certainly wasn’t trivial. If not for his sister, he would never again pick up a sword to kill.