False Volunteers and the Silver Scissors

The morning after Guan Xue's warning.

Before the cold morning air of Xu Province had even cleared away the frost, I flung open the front door of the workshop.

Kiiiek—bang!

The acrid stench of iron and charcoal dust that had built up overnight mixed with the fresh outdoor air and scattered. The bustling street was just starting to stir with merchants dragging out carts to set up their roadside stalls, preparing for the day.

I stood in the doorway for a moment, gazing at the lively scene with impassive eyes. This workshop had been given to me. On the surface, I was the respectable owner of a proper forge in the heart of Xu Province's busiest district—but that was just a facade.

In truth, I was a puppet president leashed to the massive beast that was the Mi Merchant Guild, handing over most of the profits while they supplied me with a cut of the earnings and materials in return.

Honestly, it was still paradise compared to being a mere porter or apprentice. And I could craft whatever I wanted. Last night, I'd gotten drunk with old man Yeom Cheol and forgotten my place, slipping into the mindset of my modern life. Now, I resolved to endure and be grateful for the opportunity.

Leaving the front door wide open, I headed straight to the furnace at the back of the workshop.

Shiiik! Shiiiiiik—!

Putting my full weight into the leather bellows, I pumped vigorously. The charcoal inside the furnace blazed red-hot, spewing ferocious heat.

"Hoo."

My goal for the morning was to fill the empty weapon racks with display pieces. First up: the ring-pommel sword, in high demand for both cavalry and infantry. I placed the glowing red chunk of steel on the anvil.

Kaaang—! Kang—! Kaaang—!

Each swing of my D+ grade hammer cleaved the air and struck the steel, sending heavy, explosive echoes reverberating through the entire workshop. My arm muscles swelled and contracted, my strength—now at 13—perfectly merging with the hammer's weight. With every blow, the metal yielded like soft clay, stretching and folding.

Thick beads of sweat poured from my forehead like rain. The scorching heat pierced my leather apron, reddening my skin, but I didn't stop. I hammered, folded, and stretched the steel in a frenzy. It wasn't mere labor. With every strike, I felt my muscle fibers tearing and reforming, growing denser and stronger.

After dozens of heats and hammer strikes, the crude lump of steel gradually transformed into a single, sharp blade tracing elegant curves.

Chiiiik—!

As I quenched the blade in the oil vat to temper it, a familiar translucent status window appeared in the air before me.

"Good. Flawless."

I wiped off the oil, honed the edge one more time on the whetstone, and securely fitted it to the pre-shaped oak handle. Compared to the unreal masterpieces I'd forged in the Subspace Forge, it was a humble E+ grade—but it outshone the crude weapons wielded by ordinary soldiers in Xu Province by a mile, radiating overwhelming sharpness.

Carrying the finished ring-pommel sword to the reception area, I hung it proudly in the center of the empty wall rack. It was positioned to steal the gaze of anyone passing by the open door.

"Alright, next up: the spear."

After securing the sword, I turned back to the workshop without delay.

I was just reaching for the tongs to shape the sturdy spearhead for the long white waxwood shaft when—

Thud, thud, thud.

Rough footsteps echoed from the open front door.

"Hey, boss! You in there?"

A hoarse, gravelly voice like phlegm rattling in the throat. I set down the tongs and turned around.

Three men had entered the workshop. Their appearances were uniformly ragged and menacing. Their dust-caked leather armor bore clear gashes from blades, and the scabbards at their waists were so scratched that the wood grain showed through. Their faces were grimy, unwashed for days, and their eyes gleamed with the feral hunger of jackals stalking prey.

"Welcome. Looking for weapons?"

I asked in a calm, even tone, suppressing any emotion. The largest one in the middle, with a long scar across his cheek, stroked his chin beard and replied in a swaggering drawl.

"We're volunteers under Lord Liu Bei, courtesy name Xuande. On our way back from scouting outside the city, we passed by and that thing hanging there caught our eye—didn't look ordinary. Just popped in for a look. That sword—you make it just now?"

His thick, dirt-encrusted finger pointed at the ring-pommel sword I'd just sweated over on the rack.

"Yes. Just finished quenching and sharpening. Would you like a closer look?"

I took it down and handed it to him. He grabbed the handle roughly with his callused hand and cautiously drew it halfway from the scabbard.

Srrrrk—

A spine-chillingly smooth rasp accompanied the emergence of the cool, blue-tinged steel blade. The man's dull eyes widened in shock, and the two beside him sucked in their breaths, eyes flashing.

"Whoa... damn."

"Bro, this is the real deal. The energy on that edge ain't messing around—it'd cleave bone clean through."

"A young guy forging a sword like this? Balance is perfect too."

They turned it over, genuinely unable to hide their awe. Anyone experienced with weapons would recognize the E+ grade sharpness and craftsmanship at a glance. But as their admiration continued, my eyes coldly observed their every move and glance.

'Volunteers?'

Liu Bei's volunteer army had risen to protect the people from the Yellow Turbans. Though poor and ragged, their gear lacking, their eyes should burn with righteous resolve and soldierly discipline.

These men were different. Even as they praised the blade, their sidelong glances scanned the workshop interior. The layout of tools on the walls, the piles of iron ore and charcoal in the back, the width of the path to the rear door, even the position of the drawer in the counter where I stood.

Their gazes weren't those of warriors admiring a fine weapon. They were the sly probes of hyenas appraising a warehouse to ransack, gauging escape routes, checking the owner's defenses. A chill warning crawled up my spine. These guys aren't legit soldiers. Dangerous.

I was subtly shifting my foot half a step toward the D+ grade hammer by the anvil when—

"Anyone there?"

A clear, bell-like voice sliced through the workshop's stale air from the open door. The three men, who had been sharply scanning the interior, flinched as if struck by lightning, bodies stiffening. They glanced sidelong at the figure in the doorway, then hurriedly shoved the sword back into my hands like they were being chased.

"Ahem! Sword's a beaut, but way out of reach for poor volunteers like us. Just eye candy—thanks!"

They bolted out with barely a farewell, rough steps fading fast. In their wake, the woman who had just stepped inside tilted her head curiously as she made way. Her pale jade skirt and neatly braided hair. The pure-eyed woman who had come with Guan Yu yesterday morning—his younger sister.

"Oh, did I interrupt your haggling with customers?"

She looked genuinely apologetic and started to step back, but I shook ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my head with a light smile.

"No, they were just leaving anyway. Come in, miss."

"Phew, good."

She smiled brightly in relief and entered. The spot where the men—reeking of dirt and sour sweat—had stood was instantly filled with a faint fragrance and the comforting scent of clean linen.

"I didn't introduce myself properly yesterday. I'm Guan Xue."

She clasped her hands neatly and bowed politely.

"I'm Aman. Here for the measurements we discussed, I take it."

"Yes. To repay your fine craftsmanship, I need to get stitching right away. As promised, I'll make you something perfectly fitted and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠comfortable. Excuse me for a moment."

Guan Xue pulled a long tape measure woven from fine silk thread from her bosom. As she approached, I spread my arms lightly and stood straight.

"I'll need to get a bit closer."

She stepped carefully to my side, reaching around to measure my shoulders and chest.

Swish—

Her slender arm encircled my back, her cheek nearly brushing my chest. My strength at 13 and stamina at 54 sharpened my senses acutely; each soft puff of her breath grazing my collar sent a strange tension rippling across my skin. As her fingers holding the tape traced the contours of my pectorals, thickened shoulders, and protruding back muscles, a flicker of surprise lit her eyes.

"Oh... You look slim at first glance, but your frame is so broad and your muscles so firm. Like a martial artist's build. For the clothes, I'll make the shoulders and back much roomier for comfort."

"Guess it's from wrestling heavy iron hammers in front of the furnace every day just to survive. Forge work's tougher than it looks."

I chuckled awkwardly, half-joking, half-serious. Glancing down, I noticed the knuckles of her fingers checking the tape's markings.

Those delicate white fingertips bore thick calluses and several red punctures like needle pricks—traces of harsh labor utterly at odds with her refined lady's poise.

"Your hands look pretty roughed up."

At my cautious remark, Guan Xue paused the measuring and shyly hid her hands behind her skirt folds.

"Ah... embarrassing. Truth is, I came to Xu ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Province to see my brother, and seeing the state of his volunteer army... They're all gathered by will alone, so weapons and armor are sorely lacking and worn. Especially the leather armor—it's so tattered it can't properly block blades. So I help by patching and reinforcing rough cowhide in my spare time."

Liu Bei's volunteer army. Their dire finances were infamous. Even his sister was bloodying her delicate hands mending their gear.

"That's why. Being in a strange land, my scissors and needles are dull, so piercing thick layered leather takes a lot of force. But it's the only thing I can do for my brother and those bleeding for the people, so these scars are my badges of honor."

Feels like I made those sewing scissors knowing exactly this.

Guan Xue's pure, unclouded smile.

"All measured? Mind waiting a sec?"

As she finished and stepped back, I went to the personal cabinet in the reception area. I retrieved the carefully stored bundle of hemp cloth and returned to her.

"This is...?"

"Yesterday, when you offered to make me fine clothes, I wanted to give a little something back. Worked on it through the night. Hope it becomes a worthy tool for your excellent skills."

I carefully unwrapped the hemp cloth, and Guan Xue's eyes widened round.

"Oh my gosh..."

She gasped, taking the scissors reverently in trembling hands. She slipped her thumb and forefinger into the oval rings and tested a careful snip in the air.

Chak—!

A small but sharper, more precise whoosh than any famed sword cleaved the workshop air.

"How... how can rough steel yield such cloud-like smoothness? No friction even as the blades cross, yet it slices air with chilling sharpness."

Disbelieving, Guan Xue nicked a tough strand of silk thread unraveling from her sleeve cuff.

Snip—

No effort needed. The silver-white blades grazed it, and the tough thread parted cleanly, like spring snow melting away.

"This is an incredible treasure. How can I accept something so precious and beautiful...?"

"If it spares those lovely hands from harm, the lump of metal has served its worth. Hope it makes cutting and mending those thick leather armors a bit easier. My humble gesture."

At my sincere words, moisture welled in Guan Xue's clear eyes, turning them red. She clutched the scissors to her chest like the world's greatest treasure and bowed deeply.

"Your craftsmanship reaches the heights of care and trust. I won't forget. I'll pour my soul into making you sturdy, comfortable clothes."

Our warm exchange filled the air with heartfelt warmth as Guan Xue expressed deep gratitude. Wait—Guan Yu's sister said she mends armor for Liu Bei's volunteers.

"Hold on a sec."

"Yes?"

"Those three guys earlier said they were from Liu Bei Xuande's volunteer army. Know them?"

"They... claimed to be from my brother's volunteers?"

"Yeah. Said they were under Lord Liu Bei."

Guan Xue frowned firmly and shook her head.

"I've never seen them in the volunteer army."

She met my eyes straight on, her tone a stark warning.

"This is a busy street with some security, but your workshop has precious iron and fine weapons just lying around defenseless. Prime target for bloodthirsty bandits. Please lock up tight day and night, and take extra care."