Rooted

As the morning light pierced the thin mist over the river, Linjiangtun slowly awoke in the cold stillness.

Geng Dashan was an honest man. Before dawn, he helped them clean the wild boar meat, marinating some of it and stewing the rest into a large pot. The hot broth dispelled the chill and fatigue of the past few days, and also brought some color back to the faces of Xiuniang, her daughter, and Shuanzi.

"I need to go and deliver a message to Village Chief Zhao first." Geng Dashan wiped his mouth and said to Gu Tieshan, "You guys with families to support, if you want to settle down in the village, you can't avoid him. That guy... well, you'll know when you meet him. You guys rest first, I'll be right back."

Geng Dashan carried out the door with the best wild boar hind leg.

Only their own people remained in the wooden house. Xiao Chen volunteered to go outside to keep watch. Xiu Niang was clearing away the dishes, while Shuanzi seemed restless.

Gu Tieshan walked to the window and looked down at the gradually bustling village through the gaps in the wooden planks. His gaze was calm, as if he were assessing a piece of raw iron that needed to be forged.

After coaxing the child to sleep, Shen Lanjun walked to his side and whispered, "This Zhao Shouren is the key."

"Hmm," Gu Tieshan responded, "Let's see how big his appetite is."

About an hour later, Geng Dashan returned, looking somewhat uneasy. "Village Chief Zhao requests your presence."

What's meant to happen will happen. Gu Tieshan and Shen Lanjun exchanged a glance, straightened their clothes, temporarily entrusted the child to Xiu Niang's care, and followed Geng Dashan toward the best house in the center of the village.

Zhao Shouren's residence was indeed impressive, with blue brick walls, black lacquered wooden doors, and two stone stools squatting at the entrance. A servant boy in a clean cotton-padded jacket led them inside.

Inside the main room, a thin man in his fifties, dressed in a dark blue satin cotton robe and wearing a melon-shaped hat, was slowly sipping tea. His eyelids drooped, seemingly indifferent, but when he occasionally glanced up, his eyes held a shrewd calculation. This was the village head, Zhao Shouren.

"Village Chief, the person has been brought," Geng Dashan said respectfully.

Zhao Shouren put down his teacup, his gaze shifting back and forth between Gu Tieshan and Shen Lanjun, lingering for a moment, especially on Shen Lanjun's delicate and serene face. "Oh, it's you two. I heard from Dashan that you fled from the south? In the chaos of war, it's not easy to have made it this far."

His voice was high-pitched, with a condescending tone.

"Just trying to make a living, begging for a way to survive." Gu Tieshan clasped his hands in a respectful but not arrogant tone.

"As for a way to make a living, our Linjiang Village can provide that," Zhao Shouren drawled. "However, this village has its own rules. Outsiders who want to settle down have to report, have a roster, and... well, make some contributions to the village." He tapped his fingers lightly on the table, his words carrying a hidden meaning.

Shen Lanjun stepped forward, bowed slightly, and said with just the right amount of humility, "Village Chief, we know our place. My husband doesn't have any other skills, but he is strong and knows a little blacksmithing. We heard that the abandoned courtyard at the end of the village has been empty for a long time, and we want to rent it to open a blacksmith shop, partly to make a living and partly to help the villagers. We will certainly not fail to show you the proper respect."

Her words were gentle, yet they clearly pointed out their value (the blacksmith) and the cost (filial piety), directly advancing the negotiations.

Zhao Shouren raised his eyelids and looked Gu Tieshan up and down again: "A blacksmith? How's your skill? Don't be a charlatan."

Gu Tieshan remained silent, his gaze sweeping over a slightly loose iron candlestick in the corner of the main room. He walked over, grasped the base with one hand, and with the other, seemingly casually pinched and twisted the joint, fixing the loose part back into place as if it had never been broken. This precise control of force made Zhao Shouren and Geng Dashan, who was standing beside him, stare intently.

"Alright!" A smile finally appeared on Zhao Shouren's face, but it still concealed calculation. "With this skill, you certainly won't go hungry in this village. As for that courtyard, it's just lying around anyway, so I'll rent it to you. But the rent..."

After some haggling, the lease for the courtyard was finally settled at three silver dollars a month plus some "festival gifts". Zhao Shouren was satisfied and told the servant to fetch the land deed. His gaze then fell on Shen Lanjun: "The Gu family's wife is quite clever. She should come and visit often in the village in the future."

Shen Lanjun lowered her eyelids and replied, "Yes, thank you for your care, Captain."

After completing the formalities and leaving the Zhao family residence, Geng Dashan finally breathed a sigh of relief and muttered, "That old fox is finally gone. I know that courtyard; it's a bit dilapidated, but it's not small. With some tidying up, it can be habitable."

The abandoned courtyard at the end of the village was indeed very dilapidated; half of the fence had collapsed, one of the three mud-brick houses had crumbled, and the courtyard was overgrown with weeds. But for Gu Tieshan and his group, it was a rare place to settle down.

Over the next few days, everyone pitched in to clean the courtyard, repair the houses, and build a stove. Gu Tieshan personally erected the blacksmith's furnace and anvil. After years of silence, the courtyard was finally filled with the clanging of hammers and the long-lost warmth of human activity.

The sign for "Gu Family Stove" was a rough wooden board with three large characters branded with a red-hot iron bar, which was hung at the entrance of the courtyard.

The first step in forging a spirit amidst the flames of war—taking root—was quietly completed in this border village in the north. And the hidden undercurrents are about to begin to surge because of the embedding of this "nail."