Since the academy was destroyed, and with only a week left—even Master Scholar’s lessons now focused on practical War God Mark deployment—the schedule allowed students to train independently. Master Scholar would still stay at the academy, spending his days in a small hut outside the main gate. Students could visit him there anytime with questions.
Yi Xiuran was the academy’s top student. Duan Mengqi ranked just behind him, the second person after Yi Xiuran to forge the War God Mark. Neither cared much about seeking Master Scholar’s guidance in the remaining seven days. So they followed Jiang Huoer to the outskirts of Spirit Martial Town, near Spirit Stream.
Crouching by the stream, Yi Xiuran dipped his hand into the water. It was late spring, the weather slightly warm, and the coolness felt refreshing. “This is where you fired your cannon yesterday, right?”
“Heh, what else?” Jiang Huoer dropped the bundle from his back and sat down heavily.
“What did you bring today?” Duan Mengqi paced around the bundle. “Planning to blow something up again?”
“Do I look that idle? The Redcoat Cannon prototype succeeded, so now I’m moving to my next project.” Jiang Huoer unrolled the bundle. “Anyway, why are you two tagging along today? Aren’t interviews in the Imperial Capital next week? Wasting time here?”
“Training’s training anywhere,” Yi Xiuran pulled his hand from the water. “Besides… we don’t have much time left together…”
“Huoer, are you really not coming to the Capital with us?” Duan Mengqi rubbed her toe against the ground. “If you stay behind… we’ll…”
“Aw, it’s not like we’ll never see each other again. Just write me a letter if you miss me—I’ll visit.” He pulled out a slender iron tube, then two identical ones.
“This is still such a hassle,” Yi Xiuran turned to Jiang Huoer. “Just come with us. Even if you can’t forge the War God Mark, Capital workshops would hire you. My dad even said your firearm skills could land you an engineer spot at the Celestial Mechanism Camp’s Fire Cannon Workshop!” Yi Xiuran meant it—he, Duan Mengqi, and Jiang Huoer had grown up together. Separation would fade their bond.
“I only make these for fun.” Jiang Huoer took out an iron file, shaping a circular mold with three hollow slots. He needed to smooth the edges so the tubes would fit snugly. “You know me—I’ve always been free-spirited. The Capital’s rules would suffocate me.”
Among them, Yi Xiuran was diligent and meticulous; Duan Mengqi was patient and detail-oriented. Only Jiang Huoer had always been carefree, refusing to be bound by convention.
“Besides,” Jiang Huoer looked up, “those Capital workshops already have blueprints for everything. They just copy and polish. I tinker here because I have no schematics. And the Celestial Mechanism Camp? They need Divine Mechanists wielding Divine Artillery—I can’t build that.” He shook his head. “Enough about me. Where do you two want to go? Xiuran, I know—Five Armies Camp. Mengqi?”
“I…” She hesitated, blushing. “I want to join the Imperial Medical Academy.”
“Becoming an Imperial Physician?” Jiang Huoer winked. “Fits you perfectly.” He’d always been the troublemaker, and Duan Mengqi’s gentle pleas had saved him countless times. Medicine suited her.
“Mm.”
As Jiang Huoer forced a tube into a slot, the edge sliced the fleshy part of his index finger.
“How could you be so careless?” Duan Mengqi pulled out a handkerchief, yanked his arm over, and wrapped the wound tightly. “How can I leave for the Capital worrying about you?” She shoved his arm back into his lap.
Seeing her frustrated, scolding expression, Jiang Huoer chuckled. “Sometimes you really act like my mom.”
“Hmph.” Duan Mengqi turned away.
“You two,” Jiang Huoer grinned, “future Imperial Physician and future Five Armies Camp commander. And me? Just a cannon buddy now and forever—but a proud one. Don’t forget me when you’re big shots, or I’ll fire a cannon straight at the Capital.”
“We won’t forget our cannon buddy,” Yi Xiuran drew his side sword and began practicing by the stream.
It had always been like this: Yi Xiuran sword-dancing by Spirit Stream, Jiang Huoer tinkering with gadgets, Duan Mengqi reading medical texts beside him. But they knew these days would soon vanish like mist. Soon, they’d scatter to different paths.
Meanwhile, Yi Aimin sat at Jiang Mansion, discussing with Town Chief Jiang how to keep Jiang Huoer away from Spirit Martial Town next week.
“Acting too abruptly would hurt the boy,” Yi Aimin said, his face drawn. He’d tossed sleeplessly all night over Boss Qian’s demands. “Huoer’s future is here. A harsh decision would make him uneasy.”
“True,” Town Chief Jiang nodded. “Huoer’s easygoing, but if we send him away without a solid reason, he’ll guess it’s because certain people don’t want him here.” Alone, they dropped formal titles—old friends speaking freely.
“That’s why I came to you. I racked my brain all night and got nowhere. My head’s about to explode.”
“Huoer would be happy knowing how much you care.”
“Don’t tease me, Jiang.” Yi Aimin rubbed his temples.
“Boss Qian really gave us a headache,” Town Chief Jiang snorted. “His son’s barely qualified, yet he’s making demands before you even complained.”
“Parents want guarantees for their kids,” Yi Aimin sighed. “But Huoer should stay away next week. If local children fail the interviews, selfish townsfolk will blame him. Spirit Martial Town has its share of troublemakers—they’ll seize any excuse to stir chaos.”
“I think we should use something Huoer genuinely cares about,” Town Chief Jiang mused.
“Firearms and ammo? We have plenty here.”
“But materials are scarce—nitre, sulfur. Remember his Divine Mechanism Arrow experiments? Small batches were noisy enough. A Redcoat Cannon needs massive supplies. Spirit Martial Town’s reserves couldn’t satisfy his cannon fire.”
“You’re not suggesting illegal mining?”
“No.” Town Chief Jiang stroked his long beard. “We dangle a rumor—say nitre and sulfur traces were found somewhere. He’d rush there immediately.”
“Exactly.” Town Chief Jiang’s lips curved. “The location is key.”
“We must time it—his travel plus searching.” Yi Aimin clapped. “This could work.”
Town Chief Jiang pulled out a map of Shanxi Province.
“I heard the Capital sources nitre from Salt Lake,” Yi Aimin stood to study the map.
“Not Salt Lake. What if guards mistake him for an enemy?” Town Chief Jiang’s eyes swept the map, then paused. This spot was perfect.
Yi Aimin’s gaze landed on the same place.
Their fingers touched at the exact point on the map.
“So we think alike,” Yi Aimin said.
“It’s remote. Huoer might struggle on the mountain paths.”
“He won’t mind the hardship.”
“Neither do I.”
