"Thunder is rumbling, the wind is blowing, and it's raining again. Quick, go home and collect the clothes."
Xu Zishuai lifted a basket of iron ingots, weighed them momentarily, turned around and moved against the flow of people. Storm clouds gathered and dispersed on the horizon, lightning birthed, and the sky shifted between dark and light.
Countless apprentices and soldiers behind stood frozen, their heads lifted like moths drawn to a flame, unable to suppress their fear yet moving forward with rigid steps.
The young apprentice's pupils trembled, his legs quivered, staring unblinkingly at the intertwining lights in the sky, stealing a glance back: "Master Xu! Where are you going?"
"To smelt iron." Xu Zishuai lifted a corner of the curtain.
"But, but..."
The young apprentice glanced inside the tent where intense red light was pouring out. Lu Gang, shirtless, struck at the metal with his hammer, sweat mingling with oil sliding down, utterly focused.
