Half-Moon Blade

My customer was a woman. These days, women were taking to the jianghu in droves, just as they had all been sporting peach-blossom buns a while back. I figured she wouldn't need a particularly fine blade, because she was beautiful. A woman beautiful enough can be a blade in her own right.

So I picked out two of the blades my master had left behind, planning to melt them down and forge them anew. That would save me the cost of buying iron.

"One hundred thousand taels. Give me the best blade you have," she said.

"The better the blade, the longer it'll take. Can you wait?" I asked. Actually, I was lying. All a good blade needs is the right mood.

"I have nothing but time," she said.

That made us a little alike.

And so, suddenly, I found myself in the mood. But I didn't want to forge the blade too quickly.

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