There were all sorts of ores inside the forge, including Yuan Iron. If Ling Yue only took a couple of pieces, no one would notice.
She had already seen the whole process—cutting, hammering, and smelting to refine the ore. It was far too labour-intensive for her taste.
Even at the speed of a fifth-rank martialist, one could produce at most three pieces of coarse Yuan Iron.
And the purity rate? Only around thirty to forty percent. It was practically a thankless effort.
She had another idea. If the cauldron could refine herbs into liquid and remove impurities, could it do the same for Yuan Iron?
Finding a quiet spot, she began experimenting with the two ore pieces she'd taken.
Poof!
The palm-sized Yuan Iron ore was pulled into the cauldron.
Half an hour later, she held a pebble-sized silvery block of iron in her hand.
Quickly, she summoned her spirit smoke into the cauldron to inspect the result.
"Fifty percent!" Ling Yue's hand trembled with excitement. Unbelievable—fifty percent purity!
Even Ye Saint had said it before: the Ye family forge could only refine Yuan Iron to about thirty to forty percent purity.
Unless the ore was sent to one of the big trading firms in the main county, getting this level of refinement was almost unheard of.
If the burly men at the forge found out about this, their faces would be filled with envy.
She tried again, this time with a regular iron ore. It yielded a purity of sixty percent.
What's more, she noticed that after refining just those two ores, the spirit smoke inside the cauldron had grown more vigorous than when she used it on spirit herbs.
Apparently, refining metal ores helped the spirit smoke grow stronger. But in return, it consumed a lot more of her Yuan energy.
With her current cultivation level—fifth-rank martialist—she could do this at most five times.
After storing away the refined ores, Ling Yue wandered back through the forge.
That's when she noticed a crowd gathering around her big cousin, Ye Saint. The stewards seemed to be discussing something important with him.
"Young Master Ye Saint, this batch of Yuan Iron has a purity rate of forty percent. That's a once-in-a-decade find. If I weren't in desperate need of money, I wouldn't be selling it here," said a man who looked like a foreign merchant, bargaining earnestly with Ye Saint.
Earlier, while making his rounds at the forge, Ye Saint had run into this merchant named Chen.
The man claimed to be an ore dealer from the next town over. Originally, he was planning to sell the ore in the main county, but fate had other plans.
His mother had suddenly fallen gravely ill, and he desperately needed money for her treatment. That's why he stopped in Autumn Maple Town to sell the ore.
Yuan Iron with a forty percent purity rate—just like he claimed—was a rare treasure. Even from the Ye family's own mines, they could only extract around a hundred Jin a year.
(1 Jin = approx. 0.9 pounds)
But this merchant Chen had one thousand Jin of it. If the Ye family refined it further, they could turn an enormous profit in the main county.
Ye Saint was naturally tempted. Still, to be cautious, he called over some senior ore appraisers. They all confirmed it—no issues with weight or color.
The only concern was the price. The merchant wanted twenty thousand gold for the whole batch.
That amount was equivalent to the Ye family's entire annual profit. If anything went wrong, Ye Saint wouldn't be able to bear the loss.
He had originally planned to call his father, Ye Huang Yun, to make the final decision. But Chen insisted he couldn't wait.
If they didn't make the deal now, he'd take the ore to the rival Song family.
Everyone in Autumn Maple Town knew that the Song and Ye families were bitter enemies.
Although the Ye family had a longer history in town, the Song family had risen quickly over the past hundred years.
Their patriarch was on par with Ye Gu in strength—both were upper celestial martialists.
From mining to Yuan Iron supply, the two families competed ruthlessly.
If this high-quality batch of ore went to the Song family, Ye Saint would become the Ye family's eternal disgrace.
"We'll take the Yuan Iron, but twenty thousand gold is too much. We don't have that kind of money in the forge," Ye Saint said through gritted teeth. "I can gather five thousand as a deposit. The rest will be paid within three days."
He immediately ordered someone to bring the money.
With this batch secured, the Ye family could easily earn fifty thousand gold upon resale.
But just then, Ling Yue noticed something strange—the Chen merchant had a strange, involuntary smirk.
"Wait a second, Big Cousin. Can I take a look at those ores?" Ling Yue's crisp voice suddenly rang out, catching everyone off guard.
All eyes turned toward the pretty girl in blue who had stepped forward.
"Ling Yue, what nonsense are you saying? It's your first day here. What would you know?" Ye Saint snapped. His tone was harsh—he was anxious to close the deal.
He stepped forward to drag her away, but suddenly his wrist went numb.
In that instant, Ling Yue slipped past him with ease.
Ye Saint was left stunned—his little cousin had just effortlessly evaded him. His face darkened.
Ignoring him, Ling Yue picked up one of the so-called "high-quality" Yuan Iron ores and started fiddling with it.
Quietly, her spirit smoke activated and probed the inside.
As soon as it entered the rock, her expression turned serious.
There was barely any actual iron content—let alone Yuan Iron.
It was just a thin outer shell of iron, cleverly disguised to look real.
What a clever trick. No wonder even Ye Saint and the veteran appraisers had been fooled.
With a cold grunt, Ling Yue squeezed the ore slightly. A cracking sound followed as it shattered into four pieces.
"Gee, is this really Yuan Iron? Why is it as soft as tofu?" Ling Yue asked innocently.
Everyone's face, including Ye Saint's, turned pale.
True Yuan Iron was extremely hard. How could a little girl like Ling Yue crush it with her fingers?
Rushing forward, Ye Saint and the ore masters examined the pieces. Cold sweat broke out on their foreheads.
Every last piece was fake!
"You bastard! These are all fakes! Someone, arrest this swindler!" Ye Saint roared.
His heart was still pounding at the thought of what might've happened.
As for the merchant, his face went green the moment he was exposed.
Blood spurted from his mouth as he collapsed to the ground—dead.