Chapter 25
Chapter 25: Secondhand Repairs
No matter how tough wind ox meat was, it still wasn’t as hard to pound as Purple Sand Gold. Hu Qing worked the mallet from morning to night. When Master Han came to check, he nodded.
“Not bad. Half a day more and you’ll pass.”
Hu Qing didn’t let the mallet leave her hands. Another half day later, she turned in the batch without missing a beat.
Then she just stared at Master Han, wide-eyed.
Paid today?
Master Han laughed. “I’m not going to make you wait.”
He tossed her a low-grade spirit crystal. Hu Qing caught it and slipped it straight into the ring Master Han had given her a few days ago.
“Another one?” Master Han asked.
“Yes,” Hu Qing said quickly. “This time I’ll peel it myself. I promise I won’t tear the hide.”
Master Han waved it off. “Even if you tear it, it’s fine. We sell wind ox hides directly to the artifact workshop in the city. As long as it isn’t too shredded, they’ll take it.”
An artifact workshop…
Right. She still hadn’t gone to see what the Immortal Realm’s artifact trade looked like. She’d have to check it out someday.
Master Han brought in another wind ox, already bled out. The ranch only delivered them after they’d been drained.
Hu Qing grabbed the hide and started tearing from the mouth—and immediately slipped on the first pull, wrenching her wrist hard enough that spots burst behind her eyes.
Master Han couldn’t bear to watch. He turned and left.
Hu Qing flexed her wrist, shook it out, and went back in.
After five spirit crystals’ worth of work, she finally hit her limit. Her fire qi felt weak, and she needed to replenish it, so she asked for a break.
Master Han agreed without hesitation. The orders were long-term anyway. Rest up, then get back to it.
Hu Qing went to the scrap area and picked out some tender beef. She grilled it on an iron plate, and while she was at it, she lit her artifact furnace to soak in a bit of fire qi.
She didn’t have any spirit stones left, but the Spirit-Gathering Formation on the furnace still worked.
Thin slices of beef hit the hot plate, seared on both sides, rolled through dipping sauce, and disappeared into her mouth—rich, fragrant, and so tender it almost melted.
“That smells amazing. We want some too!”
A bunch of people wandered in like they owned the place. All familiar faces.
Da Mu’s eyes lit up when he saw the griddle. “Perfect. I brought meat too. I was going back to practice carving patterns, but we might as well grill everything and eat together.”
You couldn’t chase cooks away when food was involved. Everyone pitched in, and in minutes the courtyard had turned into a full barbecue spread. Someone even conjured ice to mix drinks.
“What are you all doing here?” Hu Qing asked.
Da Mu held a glossy white slab of meat in his left hand and worked his long kitchen knife with his right, shaving it into paper-thin slices. With a flick of his wrist, the slices slid onto the iron plate in a neat cascade. They sizzled at once, fragrance blooming in the air.
“Oh, I brought you business,” Da Mu said. “Will you take repair work?”
Hu Qing thought for a second. “Your cleaver needs sharpening?”
“Sharpening isn’t enough,” Da Mu said. “It needs to be repaired.”
He wiped his hands, gestured for someone else to watch the meat, and turned back to her with a serious look.
“Look at this. I’ve used it for almost ten years. It fits my hand perfectly.”
He pulled out a standard kitchen cleaver. A chunk was missing from the back corner.
“Got stupid and chopped hard bone. It chipped. I tried to fix it myself, but my skill’s not good enough—and none of us are good at this. I took it to an artifact workshop outside, and they basically told me I might as well buy a new one.”
That was fair. The cleaver’s material was ordinary. The repair would cost more trouble than replacing it.
Da Mu clenched and unclenched his right hand, frustrated. “But it’s not about new or old. It’s the feel. I’m used to it. It works with me. There’s a rhythm, you know? I don’t want to swap it out.”
Hu Qing’s gaze flicked to the blade. “Do high-end chef knives exist?”
Da Mu winced like his teeth hurt. He pointed at his own nose, then at the others. “Who would even deserve one? Only the head masters use those.”
Then he sighed. “Master Han has one. When he uses it, his knife qi can take shape. That kind of blade is worth an artifact refiner’s time. Ours—” He looked at her. “Can you fix it or not?”
Of course she could. She was broke, and money was money.
Hu Qing nodded. “I can. But do you want a patch, or do you want me to melt it down and reforge it?”
Da Mu turned to ask the others, then came back, looking genuinely curious. “What’s the difference?”
Several heads were already poking in behind him.
Hu Qing stared at them. “We’re standing face to face. If you have questions, ask me yourselves. Why are you making Da Mu pass messages?”
They laughed and rubbed the backs of their necks, shameless.
“It’s simple,” Hu Qing said. “You provide the materials. I charge a processing fee. Patch or refurbish, I can do either.”
She lifted a hand. “But I can’t guarantee it’ll feel exactly the same afterward.”
“How much?” someone asked.
“Spirit stones or goods,” Hu Qing said. “Either works. The processing fee isn’t high. Pay what you think is fair.”
In the Immortal Realm, spirit crystals were the main currency. But for people like them at the bottom, spirit stones were still what passed through their hands most often—like silver among mortals.
Da Mu jabbed a finger at her. “Don’t you dare give us a discount just because we’re friends. Everyone knows you’re broke. You’re the brokest one here. Don’t go trying to save face.”
Hu Qing’s mouth twitched. “Relax. I won’t make it cheap for you.”
She waved at the pile of meat and tools. “I’ll fix it right now. You set the price, and don’t underpay me either. If you do, we won’t be friends anymore.”
That got them moving.
They huddled for a quick discussion, then started unloading broken kitchen tools—mostly knives, but plenty of other small things too. Some needed patching, others needed a full refurbish. They even brought the materials: common ores they’d collected over time.
Hu Qing separated everything into two cloth bundles and set them aside. “Watch the meat for me. Don’t let it burn. Eat first.”
She set up her furnace a short distance away and went to work.
First she sorted the tools by material, then melted the ores she needed. She refined them, hammered them into shape, fused the metal into the chipped and cracked spots, heated the whole tool, and hammered again to set everything evenly.
Refurbishing was the same idea on a larger scale: melt, add enough material to replace what was lost, shape, forge.
The pieces were small enough that she didn’t need a heavy mallet. A small hammer did the job cleanly.
In less than half a day, more than a dozen tools lay in a neat row, bright and whole, as if they’d just come off a shelf.
Hu Qing bared her teeth in a grin. “Thanks for your business. Time to pay up.”
They snatched their tools back and tested them on the spot, slicing and chopping with delighted shouts.
“Da Qing, you’re incredible! It’s like new!”
“It feels even better than before!”
Good. Satisfaction was great. Satisfaction also meant payment.
Knowing how poor she was, they paid her in spirit stones. Spirit stones were fine—she could absorb their qi, and once she had enough, she could exchange them for spirit crystals.
This was just a trial run. Once word got out that Hu Qing really could refine artifacts—and did it this well—people started spreading the news like wildfire.
“Your knives are worn down? Go to Da Qing. Her work’s solid, and her price is low.”
“Your pot is too small? Ask Da Qing. Add your own material and she can enlarge it.”
“Artifact workshops will bleed you dry. Ask Da Qing first. We’re all one family—why waste money outside?”
Just like that, Hu Qing’s name became synonymous with secondhand repairs.
Master Han heard about it and clicked his tongue. “So you’re here to take the cooks’ money.”
“It’s peanuts,” Hu Qing said, unbothered. “Master Han, I’m curious. Why doesn’t Gourmet House have a place that handles repairs like this? Everyone running to artifact workshops is such a hassle.”
“Things that break easily aren’t worth much,” Master Han said. “Buying new is faster. Gourmet House doesn’t care about that little bit of money.”
So the boss was generous. The employees were just better at living carefully.
Hu Qing asked, “This won’t cause trouble for me, right?”
“What trouble?” Master Han said. “You’re saving them the trip outside.”
He waved her off. “If you’re rested, get back to pounding the beef. The City Lord’s Manor sent word to increase the order. Sounds like their Young Master is hosting a banquet.”
Hu Qing smirked to herself. The Gold-Devouring Beast really was everywhere.