HNYWEF -Chapter 104 Difficult to Handle

Year 4 of Zhenguan, 6th month, 6th day.

The Zhou family blacksmith shop was open.

Zhou Xiong stood at the long anvil, hammer striking down again and again. Zhou Hong worked the bellows beside him, and Zhou Yi crouched by the furnace feeding firewood. Each of them was busy with their own task, none of them speaking.

Footsteps came from the alley entrance.

Two sets.

Zhou Xiong didn’t look up and kept forging.

“Clang.”

“Clang.”

The footsteps stopped at the doorway.

Only then did Zhou Xiong raise his head.

Two men stood there.

He recognized the one in front—Xu Maogong, now known as Li Ji (Xu Maogong). He was dressed in plain clothing, smiling broadly, looking as if he had found a treasure.

The man behind him was unfamiliar. He stood straight, his face solemn, like a pillar rooted in place.

He wore a simple dark robe, but his presence was impossible to suppress.

Li Ji spoke first.

“Bear,” he said, “I brought someone for you.”

He stepped aside, revealing the man behind him.

“This is Li Jing, Yaoshi.”

Zhou Xiong’s hammer froze mid-air.

Li Jing?

That Li Jing?

He looked at the face, then at Li Ji.

Li Ji’s smile widened.

Zhou Xiong put the hammer down.

He looked at Li Jing. Li Jing looked back at him.

They just stared at each other.

Li Jing spoke first, his voice deep and steady.

“Mr. Zhou, I have long admired you.”

Zhou Xiong said nothing.

His mind was racing.

Why was this man here?

Li Ji spoke again from the side.

“Bear, remember what you said when you came to my place last August?”

Zhou Xiong remained silent.

Li Ji continued on his own.

“You said—if Jieli Khan could come to Chang’an and perform a Turkic dance in front of His Majesty, it would be quite interesting.”

He paused.

“I told His Majesty that. He found it quite interesting. Some time ago, Jieli really did perform a dance in the Daan Palace for the retired emperor.”

Zhou Xiong’s eyes moved slightly.

Just slightly.

Li Ji noticed it and smiled even more.

“The retired emperor was very pleased and said, ‘The Hu and the Han are one family—never before in history.’ His Majesty later mentioned it as well, wondering who came up with such an interesting idea.”

Zhou Xiong still said nothing.

But his thoughts were moving faster and faster.

Li Jing stepped forward.

Looking at Zhou Xiong with a heavy gaze, he said:

“Mr. Zhou.”

Zhou Xiong met his eyes.

“I have heard that you predicted Jieli’s defeat long ago, and even foresaw what would happen after his entry into Chang’an. Such insight is extraordinary.”

He paused.

“I am not skilled, but I know a little about military strategy. I have come today without notice, hoping to seek your guidance.”

Zhou Xiong froze.

Seek guidance in military strategy?

From him?

He opened his mouth, wanting to speak.

But the words stopped at his throat.

He looked at Li Jing’s face.

That face had no expression at all, just waiting.

Zhou Xiong suddenly felt this was a difficult situation.

History said Li Jing was an extremely stubborn man.

Once he believed in something, not even nine oxen could pull him back.

That was true in war—and in life.

Now this man stood before him, asking for instruction.

If Zhou Xiong said nothing, the man might stand there until nightfall.

If he spoke nonsense, the man might take it seriously.

And if he said it was just a joke, the man might think it was hidden wisdom.

Zhou Xiong opened his mouth.

“You—”

Then he stopped.

Yell at him?

Yell at Li Jing?

And then what?

The man wouldn’t care.

He would still stand there, waiting.

Zhou Xiong suddenly felt a little tired.

Not ordinary tiredness—something else entirely.

He looked at Li Jing for three breaths.

Then he spoke.

“I’m not free today.”

Li Jing’s brow moved slightly.

Just slightly.

Zhou Xiong continued, “Come another day.”

Then he turned around and picked up his hammer.

“Clang.”

Li Jing stood still, unmoving.

He looked at the back of the man forging iron for a while.

Then he nodded.

“Then I will come again another day.”

He cupped his hands and turned to leave.

Li Ji stood at the doorway, looked at Zhou Xiong, then at Li Jing. The smile on his face faded slightly.

He waved at Zhou Xiong.

“Bear, I’ll be going.”

Zhou Xiong didn’t turn around.

Li Ji followed Li Jing out.

Footsteps faded into the distance.

The room fell quiet again.

Zhou Hong and Zhou Yi exchanged glances.

Zhou Hong leaned over.

“Brother, who was that guy?”

Zhou Xiong shook his head.

“A stubborn fool with some ability.”

Then he continued forging.

“Clang.”

“Clang.”

After a while, Zhou Hong saw he wasn’t going to explain further and didn’t ask again.

He went back to the bellows.

Zhou Yi crouched by the furnace, glancing at his father.

Zhou Xiong kept hammering, rhythm steady, expressionless.

But something felt different today.

Not happiness—something else.

He couldn’t explain it.

Zhou Xiong paused suddenly.

He stared into the furnace fire for a moment.

Then he shook his head.

Picked up the hammer again.

“Clang.”

Only one thought kept turning in his mind—

If Li Jing really came again… what then?