“What kind of hammer technique is this...?”
Elder Hanhe stared unblinkingly at the figure not far away, unable to snap out of his daze, even wondering if he’d woken up too abruptly.
That was the founder’s anvil. The founder’s hammer.
After slumbering for endless ages, it had now, in the hands of a youth barely past seventeen, reignited with the same primal brilliance as when it was first forged.
Why? How could someone merely in the Observation Divine Realm accomplish what countless blacksmiths of the Divine Arms Peak had failed to achieve over millennia?
“The ‘Divine Hammer’ in ‘Little Tyrant of the Divine Hammer’ doesn’t refer to the weapon itself.”
Elder Zeng recalled the scene atop the Sword Tower and sighed:
“It’s his hammer technique—divine in its mastery.”
“I... I’ve been a fool.”
Elder Hanhe muttered to himself, finally understanding Xue Jing’s feelings at this moment.
To wield a divine-grade hammer technique and effortlessly brandish a divine weapon—regardless of how he managed it—the Starfall Hammer of Tribulation now rested lightly in his palm.
Moreover, he showed no fear of the extreme heat, moving through the fire veins as naturally as a fish in water.
Such a person... Elder Hanhe could think of no reason he wouldn’t become a divine smith in the future.
Not far away.
“‘Divine Treasure Refinement’... is actually on the verge of mastery?”
Li Mo wore a puzzled expression as his movements gradually stilled, like a furnace whose flames had been extinguished.
Well... that was sudden.
He hadn’t expected his talent in forging to rival his skill with the hammer.
“Divine Treasure Refinement” was also a divine-grade technique.
Yet, he’d only wanted to test whether he could use hammer treasures for forging after channeling the power of the world. And now, the technique was nearly mastered—despite not even striking iron yet.
All he’d been hammering was the anvil.
At that moment, he turned his head and noticed the two old men staring at him with complicated expressions.
“Ah, you’re awake? Seems the Seven-Line Coldspring Pill worked well.”
“??”
Elder Hanhe’s scalp tingled. Even deep within the fire veins, he broke into a cold sweat. No wonder he hadn’t felt the heat—he’d just consumed a seven-line pill!
Elder Zeng’s lips twitched. “Do you know how heavy a golden mountain is? Even a body tempered to the External Scenery Realm would struggle to lift it.”
“How do you know?”
“Li Mo once tossed a golden mountain onto an open field and made me move it. Nearly killed me.”
“......”
Elder Hanhe had lived a long life but had never experienced such backbreaking labor.
“Enough. While the pill’s effects last...”
“I’ll teach you the secret forging methods of our Qingyuan Sect.”
As he spoke, Elder Hanhe straightened his posture with pride.
“Don’t learn from that old man Hanhe.”
Elder Zeng’s eyes gleamed as he looked at Li Mo like he was a rare treasure:
“Hengyun Sword City’s forging techniques suit you better. Besides, that old coot can only craft sharp weapons at best, while I can forge renowned arms—a true master smith.”
Elder Hanhe bristled. “Zeng, you old dog! This is too much! He’s a disciple of our Qingyuan Sect! What right do you have to interfere?”
Elder Zeng remained unperturbed. “I simply can’t bear to watch you lead him astray. Besides, Li Mo is Shang Wu’s disciple, not yours.”
“Hmph! A master smith? A master of shortcuts, more like! Even green onions wouldn’t dip into your kind of sauce!”
“Personal attacks? You’re making personal attacks now?! I challenge you to a duel!”
“Bring it on! You think I’m scared?!”
The two elders butted heads like angry bulls, on the verge of coming to blows.
Their philosophies on forging had always clashed.
Elder Zeng was a reformist, advocating for any and all technological means. To him, forging didn’t necessarily require hammers—any method that produced fine weapons was valid. The Metal-Nourishing Sword Array was one of his creations.
He saw Elder Hanhe as stubborn and inflexible.
Elder Hanhe, meanwhile, revered ancient methods. True weapons, in his eyes, demanded meticulous, hammer-by-hammer craftsmanship—imbued with the smith’s heart and soul. Only then could they aspire to become divine arms.
To him, Elder Zeng’s methods were all “technology and artificial shortcuts”—completely devoid of soul!
“So... how exactly do their differences manifest?”
Li Mo, still unfamiliar with the nuances, found it hard to choose.
And emotionally speaking...
Elder Hanhe was self-explanatory—a gruff but kind elder who’d even let him take the Divine Arms Peak founder’s most precious treasures.
As for Elder Zeng... the man had literally thrown himself into battle, risking life and limb just to snatch a single strand of his hair.
“Let’s start with the most basic smelting process. I’ll show you!”
Elder Zeng seized the initiative, retrieving from his spatial treasure a large cauldron covered in formation patterns—about the size of a cooking pot.
He tossed in some ordinary iron ore, placed the cauldron over the fire veins, and activated the formations.
Soon, the ore inside turned red-hot under the formations’ influence.
Standing by the cauldron, Elder Zeng occasionally poured in a material that made Li Mo dizzy just from the smell—Black Mirewood Oil.
But that wasn’t all.
“This is Stonefire Powder—purges impurities.”
“And Goldwind Rock—compacts the iron.”
Like an alchemist, he added various materials before finally hammering the metal into shape.
In no time at all, the steel was forged.
“So fast.”
Li Mo blinked, surprised at how convenient forging could be.
“Well? What do you think?” Elder Zeng asked smugly.
“Unimpressive. A shoddy product from a soulless craftsman.”
Elder Hanhe snorted.
He heated his ore, placed it on the anvil, and began hammering with a precise, rhythmic technique.
His strikes were like a storm—swift, relentless, and mesmerizing to behold.
He reheated, folded, and hammered again, repeating the process tirelessly.
“Every Qingyuan Sect disciple’s Blue Steel Sword is tempered a hundredfold!”
“Every inch of it carries the smith’s heart and soul!”
This method took much longer.
But the resulting steel bore beautiful, layered patterns.
Elder Hanhe then shaped it into a sword and casually swung it at Elder Zeng’s forged metal, chipping a grain-sized notch from the latter’s work.
Elder Zeng bristled. “You damn well hacked my iron?!”
The two elders started bickering again before suddenly turning to Li Mo:
“Which one’s better?”
“Wait...”
Li Mo, deep in thought, suddenly had an epiphany.
Young Master Li had never been short of brilliant ideas.
As he observed the two forging methods, an inspiration struck him.
“Both elders’ methods have their merits. Why not combine them?”
“Huh? How?”
The two spoke in unison, exchanged bewildered glances, then huffed and looked away in sync, their pride wounded.
“Like stir-frying.”
“?”
“Stir-frying requires precise heat control—just like smelting. So if we treat the ore like ingredients and stir-fry it, wouldn’t that be the best of both worlds?”
Exactly!
This was Chef Li’s masterstroke!
“？？？？”
......
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
esick Sect? Well, at least it's considered a respectable orthodox sect. Wait a minute— What kind of vibe are you all giving off? Shouldn’t this be a love-struck, romance-obsessed sect? Why does everyone here sound more like demonic cultivators? "Master, today he’s getting married. This disciple wishes to descend the mountain and crash the wedding, then toy with him to death right in front of his wife..." "Elder, I only got into your sect through connections, so why won’t you teach me anything?" "Because I also became an elder through connections." Thankfully, Su Ji was just an outer sect labor disciple. Surely, nothing too crazy would— "Junior Brother, you’ve broken through to Qi Refining. Once you sever your useless spiritual root, you can officially become an outer sect disciple." "The Great Dao is merciless. Don’t let a worthless spiritual root waste your essence and spirit, hindering your cultivation." Is this really the Lovesick Sect? ... Three years later, Su Ji sat in the seat of the Lovesick Sect’s sect master, sighing with emotion. His rise to this position all started when his junior sister adamantly insisted on preserving his "spiritual root." "Mmm... Senior Brother, what’s our relationship now?" "Stop talking. Keep going." "By the way, that newly promoted top-tier sect—didn’t they come to buy our Love Beans?" "One top-grade spirit stone per Love Bean—is that really so expensive?" "I suspect they’ve eaten too many Love Beans." "Now they’re lovesick." Well, this really is the Lovesick Sect after all.
reezy rom-com) Good news: Jiang Liu is quite the ladies' man. Bad news: He’s lost his memory. Lying in a hospital bed, Jiang Liu listens to a parade of goddesses spouting "absurd claims," feeling like the world is one giant game of Werewolf. "Jiang Liu, I’m your first love." "Jiang Liu, you’re my boyfriend—she’s your ex." "Jiang Liu, we’re close friends who’ve shared a bed, remember?" "Jiang Liu, I want to have your baby." The now-lucid Jiang Liu is convinced this must be some elaborate scam... until someone drops the bombshell: "The day before you lost your memory, you confessed your feelings—and got into a relationship." Jiang Liu is utterly baffled. So... who the hell is his actual girlfriend?! ... Before recovering his memories, Jiang Liu must navigate this minefield of lies and sincerity, fighting to protect himself from these women’s schemes. But things spiral even further out of control as more people show up at his doorstep—each with increasingly unhinged antics. On the bright side, the memories he lost due to overwhelming trauma seem to be resurfacing. Great news, right? So why are they all panicking now?
close your eyes and open them again, only to find yourself transmigrated into the role of a villainous male supporting character. Readers familiar with urban wish-fulfillment novels know that it is only through the relentless antics of the villainous male supporting character that the plot between the male and female leads can progress. As the villainous male supporting character, Long Aotian not only has to bully the female lead, harass the second female lead, and flirt with the third female lead, but he also has to go all out to antagonize the male lead. In the end, when his body is discovered, he is still clutching half a moldy fried dough stick in his hand. Fully aware of the plot, Long Aotian is determined to change his fate, starting with the female lead! In the beginning, the female lead lacks confidence: "Big brother, I hope I didn't scare you?" In the middle, the female lead treads carefully: "Brother Long, please don't hit me, okay?" Later on, the female lead becomes coquettishly clingy: "Aotian, it's time to pay the 'public grain' tonight." Long Aotian's legs go weak, and he feels like crying: "I taught you to be thick-skinned, not shameless!"
