Volume 1, Chapter 5: Pay-to-Win Player Gear Up

"Clang... clatter..."

The blacksmith shop was tucked away in a corner of the market. Even from a distance, one could feel the heat radiating from the furnace. It was no wonder that blacksmiths in television dramas always worked bare-chested; no one could endure that kind of temperature otherwise.

"Greetings, customer. What can I do for you?"

There were only two people in the shop: a middle-aged man and a youth, who appeared to be father and son.

"Hello. I'd like to buy a blade."

Zhou Wu had already made up his mind before coming. Although the heroes on TV liked to show off with swords, Zhou Wu had no interest in them; a blade felt more fitting for a man.

"Are you looking for a long blade or a short one? Wide or narrow...?"

He hadn't realized there were so many types of blades. Zhou Wu was momentarily stumped, but then he decided it would be better to just buy something ready-made. It was just a blade, after all; he didn't want the trouble of making a second trip.

"Do you have any ready-made blades?"

"Well, I do, customer, but the ready-made ones in this shop aren't cheap."

The blacksmith seemed to size up Zhou Wu’s plain attire, assuming he was just looking for an ordinary iron blade.

"Oh? Let me see."

When he heard the price wouldn't be low, Zhou Wu’s interest was actually piqued.

"Please wait a moment, customer."

The blacksmith turned and headed inside, returning within moments carrying a wrapped bundle.

"Take a look, customer. This is a Hengdao (horizontal blade) forged from refined steel. A small place like ours wouldn't usually use such fine material, but the customer who ordered this specifically requested refined steel. It took a great deal of effort for our little shop to even acquire the material."

As the blacksmith introduced the blade, he couldn't hide the pride in his eyes; it was as if this blade were the true testament to his craftsmanship. Zhou Wu was immediately taken with it. It was clearly superior to the common items in the corner, but he noticed a contradiction in the blacksmith's story.

"You say this was ordered by someone else, so why is it for sale?"

"You see, customer, three months ago a man came into the shop and commissioned this refined steel Hengdao, paying the full price upfront. Since we lacked the materials at the time, he said he would return in ten days. It’s been three months now, and there hasn’t been a word, so..."

"I see."

Zhou Wu looked down, debating whether to purchase the high-quality blade.

"Don't worry, though," the blacksmith added quickly, sensing Zhou Wu’s hesitation. "If the previous customer shows up, I’ll just forge him another one or refund his money."

"How much?"

"Two thousand wen."

"What? Two strings of cash for this blade?"

An ordinary iron blade usually cost only about a hundred wen or so. Zhou Wu couldn't help but exclaim at the price.

"Take a look for yourself, customer. This is forged from genuine, top-quality refined steel. It can cut through iron like mud. You won't find another one like it in the entire county."

Zhou Wu thought it over and gritted his teeth, deciding to buy it. He wasn't entirely sure if it was worth two strings of cash, but the decision was driven by the smith's sales pitch and the fact that he had recently come into a windfall. It was like playing a game—once you have the money, you just buy, buy, buy. Cost-effectiveness wasn't even a consideration.

"Boss, do you have any bows for sale?"

He had bought the blade for self-defense, but he still needed a bow for hunting.

"Bows? That depends on how many *shi* of draw weight you need."

"How many *shi*?"

Seeing that Zhou Wu was completely clueless, the blacksmith didn't offer an explanation and simply handed him a bow, gesturing for him to draw it.

Zhou Wu had never used a bow before. He tried to mimic what he had seen in dramas, but to his surprise, he couldn't even pull the string back no matter how hard he tried.

"That's not right. I've seen others do it so easily."

"Customer, you've never used a bow, have you? Drawing a bow looks simple, but it actually requires a specific technique."

With that, the blacksmith effortlessly drew the bow, his expression and breathing remaining steady.

"That’s impressive."

"You flatter me. It’s just practice. Since you’ve never used one, why don't you go with a one-*shi* bow?"

According to the Great Long Empire’s measurements, one *shi* was equivalent to seventy jin. For Zhou Wu’s current body, that was a reasonable challenge. He didn't let his pride get in the way and took the smith’s advice, buying the one-*shi* bow and some arrows, intending to practice hard once he got back.

That afternoon, when Zhou Wu arrived at the meeting spot, Old Zhang was already waiting.

"You're early, Old Zhang."

"Eh, I didn't have much cargo to pick up anyway. What about you? Did you strike it rich?"

The basket on Zhou Wu’s back was impossible to miss, and with the blade at his waist and the bow on his back, he looked like a completely different person than when he had left. These things were not cheap.

"I spent the last of the family savings to outfit myself."

Naturally, Zhou Wu wouldn't mention finding the ginseng or becoming a sudden nouveau riche. He used the family inheritance as an excuse—a believable one, given that his family had once been a fallen official household.

"Are you giving up on the civil service exams? Planning to be a hunter?"

"Yes. You can't fill your stomach with studies."

"Hmm, pragmatic. That’s good."

Though everyone in this era aspired to pass the exams, Old Zhang agreed with Zhou Wu’s realism; if you were starving, clutching a book wouldn't help.

What Old Zhang didn't know was that this Zhou Wu was no longer the original one. He couldn't care less about exams; just looking at those classical texts and eight-legged essays gave him a headache.

...

"Whoa there! Scholar Zhou is here."

Zhou Wu didn't know when he had fallen asleep, but he woke up to the familiar sight of the village.

"Oh, right. Thank you, Old Zhang. Please, take this."

Zhou Wu handed Old Zhang a small bag of rice from his basket—a full three jin. Old Zhang didn't know what it was at first, but upon seeing the white rice, he immediately tried to decline.

"No, this is too much. It was just a ride. If I take this, how can I show my face in the village later?"

"Old Zhang, just take it. Otherwise, I’ll be too embarrassed to ask for a ride next time."

"No, no, it’s just a ride, I can't."

"Alright, Old Zhang, that’s that."

After a bit of back-and-forth, Zhou Wu took advantage of a moment of distraction to toss the bag onto the mule cart and started running home.

"Heh, this kid."

With no other choice, Old Zhang accepted it, humming a tune as he happily headed home.

"Brother Wu! You’re finally back."

"Niu Er? Is something the matter?"

On the way home, he ran into Niu Er, who was returning from the fields.

"Heh, good news! You’ll see when you get home."

Niu Er gave him a mysterious look, winking and gesturing suggestively.

"Is there something wrong with your eyes? Have you seen a doctor?"

Zhou Wu felt a wave of nausea. Imagine a man built like Li Kui or Zhang Fei suddenly winking and acting coy—it was truly repulsive.