“Niu Ge, Bai Jiasu is rambling again!”
“Huh! Where? Quick, take me to see.”
Niu Zhuangzhuang, who had just turned ten, was considered the king of the village kids, always surrounded by a group of young, obedient little brothers, and even some little girls.
However, there are always exceptions. Even though Bai Jiasu was only seven, he was completely outside Niu Zhuangzhuang's control. It wasn't that Niu Zhuangzhuang pushed Jiasu out of his circle of control; rather, no matter what he did, Bai Jiasu simply refused to join. In Bai Jiasu's eyes, all of Niu Zhuangzhuang's attempts at oppression, threats, and coaxing looked like a kitten baring its fangs and brandishing its claws, completely devoid of any sense of threat, and rather quite adorable.
Niu Zhuangzhuang was led by one of his little brothers, taking a group of children to a stream just outside the village, where Bai Jiasu was standing under a seemingly lush tree, muttering something.
“It’s too hot, I’m going back,” Bai Jiasu said, as if he had reached his limit.
“No, no, don’t!” There was no one next to Bai Jiasu, only a black, dirty, but seemingly very heavy iron pot.
“No matter how I look at it, you’re just a pot!”
“I am a sword cultivator! Do you know what a sword cultivator is?! You stinking brat, still wet behind the ears, can’t even form proper words...”
With a clang, Bai Jiasu threw the seemingly heavy iron pot away. He couldn't help but feel a little regret; although this iron pot talked a lot, its quality was still very good. It would probably be great for stir-frying vegetables.
“Little cultivator friend, what do you mean by that look...? If you have something to say, say it slowly. Our meeting is fate, isn't it?”
It seemed the iron pot knew that if it kept speaking so harshly, it might be buried underground for who knows how many more years. Perhaps by the time it saw the light of day again, it would be melted down as scrap metal. The most crucial point was that this child in front of it could actually communicate with it – a sword spirit. This truly made one who had turned into iron and stone like itself incredibly agitated, even causing it to have the illusion that its soul was about to break.
“I’m not interested in sword cultivators. I don’t understand all that stuff you’re rambling about. I just need a pot. If you’re okay with it, I’ll take you, but if not, I won’t force you.” Bai Jiasu spoke as if delivering a final ultimatum.
The iron pot fell silent for a moment, restraining its emotions, and changing its tone, asked somewhat cautiously, “Have you met other sword cultivators before?”
After all, the iron pot was a sword spirit. After calming down, it pondered many issues. Bai Jiasu seemed only slightly surprised, and moreover, spoke to it calmly and unhurriedly – something that looked very... Alright, for now, let's consider it talking to an iron pot. In the eyes of ordinary people, this would surely be seen as a sign of mental instability. Thus, the iron pot could deduce that Bai Jiasu had similar experiences before meeting it; in other words, he must have talked to other sword spirits to be so composed. Therefore, it felt a sense of anticipation, and thus had to become cautious and serious.
“Sword cultivators?”
Bai Jia Su heard the iron pot's question and hesitated a little, because the content the iron pot described was too fantastical and exaggerated. He had never seen a true sword cultivator, nor had he even heard of such a peerless, unique battle. But this iron pot claimed to be a sword cultivator, and if it was...
iron objects that he could converse with, he had indeed seen them himself. Or rather, not just seen them, but he even had two of them at home.
"Whether they're sword cultivators or not, I don't know," he said. "But they're all like you – they don't have the shape of a sword, yet they can talk to me."
When the iron pot heard Bai Jia Su's words, it was as if it had been struck by lightning out of a clear sky. Bai Jia Su could even faintly hear a sound like dry leaves being crushed by fingers coming from inside the iron pot.
"Quick, quick, take me to see them!" the iron pot suddenly yelled, startling Bai Jia Su.
Bai Jia Su probed, "So, you agree to be an iron pot now, right?"
At this moment, the sword spirit was no longer in the mood to care whether it was an iron pot or if its dignity was intact. It couldn't remember how many years had passed – a hundred years? Or five hundred? Today, knowing that its fallen comrades might have miraculously survived, just like itself, how could it not be excited?
"Quick, take me to see them! I'll agree to anything you say!" The iron pot was so impatient it couldn't wait, but it still carefully controlled its emotions, afraid of annoying Bai Jia Su and being left behind.
"Alright, those are the words I was waiting for!"
Bai Jia Su excitedly picked up the iron pot. The pot didn't look big, but it was still a bit heavy when lifted. Although Bai Jia Su was young, having been an orphan since childhood, he had long learned to work for his food. Thus, his strength was no less than that of the robust Niu Zhuang Zhuang, a fact that greatly vexed Niu Zhuang Zhuang.
Just as Bai Jia Su lifted the iron pot, he saw Niu Zhuang Zhuang leading a group of children, running along the stream towards him. Seeing Niu Zhuang Zhuang's head-shaking, tail-wagging demeanor, he knew Niu Zhuang Zhuang was coming to "advise" him again. Bai Jia Su secretly thought that if Niu Zhuang Zhuang would put this stubborn persistence into blacksmithing, he could at least share some of his father's worries.
"Bai Jia Su, did you just pick up a new toy? Can I borrow it to play for a couple of days?"