Soul of the Craftsman: The Weapon-Forging Competition Begins

"Frosty, massaging your legs regularly can improve blood circulation. If you only massage one leg, it might cause imbalance. I suggest letting me massage the other one too."

Little Li Gentleman spouted nonsense with a straight face.

"Really?"

Ying Bing narrowed her phoenix-like eyes, pursing her lips.

"Sis, just a little longer."

"......"

The cool, fragrant, and elastic sensation under his fingertips instantly made Little Li feel reinvigorated—his back no longer ached, his legs no longer hurt, his mind cleared up, and his IQ reclaimed its rightful throne.

So, there was indeed some truth to the saying that massage benefits one's health.

Li Mo pondered calmly.

Though he had only practiced the Seventy-Two Transformations for two and a half days and was far from mastering it, his progress was already noticeable.

Yet, compared to the Great Sage's projection, the gap was still as vast as staring at stars from the ground.

At this rate, if he didn’t fully grasp this divine form, securing a spot in the top three of the Hidden Dragon Rankings would be uncertain.

Moreover, his spiritual cultivation would stagnate as well.

During their dual cultivation last night, he noticed Frosty was nearing the bottleneck of the Eight Divine Orifices, while he remained stuck in place.

"I still have time. The Arms Forging Tournament and the Hidden Dragon Tournament aren’t back-to-back."

"First, I need to master the basics of the Seventy-Two Transformations!"

Li Mo’s fingers found a joint, and as he kneaded it, the blockage eased—just like his thoughts.

Frosty suddenly flinched when her knee was pressed, her snow-white foot nearly kicking reflexively, as if to stuff Little Li’s mouth with it.

"Gentler."

Ying Bing frowned slightly. Why was his strength increasing?

Even his absent-minded massage was starting to hurt, a sign that the gap between their physiques had widened slightly.

Yet, she had been refining her Radiant Moonlit Body using her innate Lunar Qi...

Among the system’s rewards was a divine treasure for tempering the body—Tribulation Jade.

But that thing invoked heavenly tribulations to refine oneself. While the effects were immediate, it was also extremely dangerous. Even she was carefully considering whether to use it.

"Sorry, I got distracted."

Li Mo sheepishly withdrew his hand.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Body refinement. My progress has slowed recently. I wonder if I can break through after the Arms Forging Tournament."

Li Mo couldn’t help but sigh.

"What kind of body-tempering martial art?" Ying Bing’s frown deepened.

This is slow?

She didn’t know the word "humblebrag," but seeing Li Mo say such things with a melancholic face made her feel strange—her toes itching to kick him.

But she feared he might not mind—or worse, enjoy it.

"The kind that requires tribulations to temper."

Of course, he couldn’t casually reveal the core of his martial arts.

But Little Li spilled everything like beans from a bamboo tube.

"Tribulation tempering..."

After summarizing the Seventy-Two Transformations, Li Mo noticed Frosty lowering her gaze in thought.

Ah, right—he still hadn’t uncovered her depths (in martial arts).

"Frosty, do you have any way to speed things up?"

"Martial arts like these require steady progress. Shortcuts usually don’t exist."

Ying Bing’s phoenix eyes drifted away as she spoke softly.

"But I’ll think of something for you."

She... decided to test the Tribulation Jade herself first.

Her physique might not be as strong as this childish man’s, but she had better control and was less likely to injure herself.

"So stop massaging for now..."

"?"

Li Mo looked down and leaned back slightly—when did his hand slip under the blanket?!

"I don’t know what’s so fun about it that you never get tired."

Ying Bing pursed her lips expressionlessly.

"Then let’s switch next time."

"Mm."

"Wear this first before massaging."

Li Mo pulled out a few items from his sleeve and laid them on the bed.

"?"

Ying Bing glanced at them, her fingertips curling slightly.

They were all socks made of Dark Cloud Silk—some sheer thigh-highs, some full-length stockings, even fishnet garters...

"Are there... shops from the Southern Border here?" Ying Bing asked flatly.

"Nope, these are my latest forging achievements!"

Little Li Gentleman radiated righteousness and pride, his voice brimming with sincerity—no trace of guilt:

"As everyone knows, Dark Cloud Silk is an extremely difficult material to refine, yet its applications are vast. Many soft armors, inner garments, and stealth suits are made from it."

"The real challenge lies in purification—removing all impurities from Dark Iron to obtain pure Dark Cloud Metal."

"Then, it requires masterful forging techniques to draw the metal into silk. One misstep ruins everything, testing a craftsman’s skill to the limit."

"I’m the type who loves challenges, so of course I’d pick the hardest task!"

"Clearly, making socks from Dark Cloud Silk is the pinnacle of difficulty!"

"Try them on! These are the culmination of my craftsmanship!"

Little Li Gentleman, brimming with righteousness, held up a pair of fishnet garters.

The fire in his eyes... was it the spirit of craftsmanship?

At least he believed it.

"......"

Ying Bing’s gaze trembled, shifting from the socks to her curled toes, which tingled slightly.

"Li Mo, let’s not."

"Why?"

"I feel like after wearing them, they’ll disappear like the last few pieces of underwear. Do you know why?"

"!"

......

The next day.

The Heavenly Mountain Sword Manor stood majestic and ethereal, swarmed by crowds.

Before the manor’s gates, carriages and horses streamed like dragons, people bustling like rain—craftsmen from all corners of the world gathered here, hoping to make a name for themselves at the Arms Forging Tournament.

If their weapons shone in the hands of a Hidden Dragon prodigy, their fame would skyrocket.

Blacksmiths, too, craved reputation—fame brought rare materials to their doorstep, requests for custom work, status, wealth, and everything they desired.

Unfortunately.

Any competition tied to "fame and fortune" inevitably took a strange turn.

"Hahaha, three years apart, and you’re still a twig, Old Zhao!"

"Big muscles don’t mean anything if they’re dead weight!"

"Old Hu, you’re not on stimulants, are you? Divine Strength Powder is bad news—it’ll rot your brain!"

"Huh? That kid... is he here to compete?"

"With those skinny arms, is he some young master here for fun?"

"Damn it, I’ve trained so hard, yet women still prefer those frail-looking pretty boys?"

"You’re lucky. Yesterday, some freak slapped my butt in the street and gave me a creepy look!"

"......"

Li Mo frowned.

What’s my crime? Being handsome?

Is there no justice? No law?

How childish, flexing muscles like it mattered.

Shaking his head, Li Mo ignored them and pulled the carriage curtain shut, blocking the outside stares.

But just then, commotion erupted ahead.

"What's going on?"

"Looks like we've caught someone carrying forbidden elixirs!"