Chapter 110 “The golden statue is complete!”

Chapter 110 "The Golden Statue Takes Form!"

The day before the golden statue casting ceremony, the metallurgical workshop was a hive of activity.

A small furnace had been specially cleared out, where craftsmen were preparing molten bronze for the upcoming casting. The furnace glowed red-hot, and molds were being meticulously carved.

As dusk fell, everything was ready. Fu Tiesheng inspected the furnace, molten bronze, and molds one by one, making sure nothing was missed. He then addressed the group, "All the materials needed for tomorrow's casting are here. Tonight, two men will take turns keeping watch. Stay vigilant—no mistakes are allowed, especially with the molten bronze. If anything goes wrong, the princess’s anger is not something we can bear. Understood?"

"Understood!" the crowd responded in unison.

Fu Tiesheng nodded in satisfaction, then called out two names to stay for the night shift before dismissing the rest.

The craftsmen were bursting with confidence, their faces lit with smiles as they left, already imagining the rewards the princess might bestow upon them if the casting succeeded. Over the past six months, they had lived better than they ever dreamed—no longer starving or beaten, even getting meat as a reward for good work...

Amid the lively chatter, one man remained silent, keeping his eyes lowered.

"What's troubling you?"

A sudden pat on the shoulder startled Chu Lian so badly he nearly stumbled. His pupils shrank, and he dared not meet Fu Tiesheng's gaze, shaking his head in panic. "N-no, nothing."

Fu Tiesheng stared him down for a beat, making Chu Lian swallow nervously. But then, unexpectedly, Fu Tiesheng smiled. "Good. Get some rest. Tomorrow, when the princess succeeds in casting the golden statue, it'll be our time to shine."

He seemed utterly absorbed in the coming joy, blind to his discomfort.

Chu Lian didn’t dare ask what would happen if they failed. He could only mutter a meek “Yes” before following the others out of the workshop.

Watching his figure disappear down the snow-covered path beyond the fence, Fu Tiesheng narrowed his eyes, a glint of steel in his eyes.

Everything was unfolding exactly as the princess had planned.

...

Night crept in. It was the beginning of the lunar month, and a slender crescent moon hung in the sky. The wind and snow had ceased, leaving the night clear and bright, with Orion’s belt glittering overhead.

By the third watch, lights had gone out. The sounds of people and livestock quieted, even the cries of infants fading away. The entire royal court fell into a deep sleep.

Starlight shimmered on the snow, casting faint outlines of tents in the dim glow. Everything was dead silent—except for a few dimly lit rooms in the metallurgical workshop.

Then, a shadowy figure moved like a wolf, soundlessly closing in on the wooden fence of the workshop.

He scanned his surroundings cautiously—no guards in sight.

"Hoo-hoo."

A call resembling that of a night owl sounded, soon answered by a similar noise from within.

The signal confirmed, the gate creaked open, and the figure slithered inside.

"Where are their materials stored?" the newcomer demanded, his voice commanding.

The other man dared not object, ducking his head submissively. "In one of the inner rooms."

"Lead the way."

The metallurgical workshop was the most crucial of Jiang Congyan’s enterprises, spread out over a huge area with dozens of earthen buildings. Without a guide, searching blindly would waste time and risk exposure.

They moved as quietly as cats, their eyes darting around warily. As they drew closer, the faint glow from a window illuminated the face of the man in front—none other than Chu Lian.

Earlier, he had left the workshop in Fu Tiesheng’s presence, only to sneak back later under some pretext. He had hidden inside all along, waiting to help the intruder—his inside contact.

Upon arrival, the furnace inside was still burning, the molten copper in the crucible turning into a searing red liquid, giving off blistering heat.

Chu Lian tested the door with a push, and surprisingly, it wasn’t barred.

Gently opening the door, he slipped in first. He had expected to find an excuse to send away the night watchman, but perhaps due to the warmth of the room or sheer laziness, the man was already dozing off in his chair, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Even when Chu Lian stood right in front of him, the man didn’t even twitch.

After assessing the situation, Chu Lian cautiously reported to his companion.

The man pondered for a moment. "Leave him be. You keep watch for me."

"Yes."

The man crept toward the furnace. The furnace was sealed, so he had to lift the lid on top to see the molten copper inside.

He picked up the iron tongs nearby and carefully hooked the lid, prying it open just enough to create a gap. The lid was heavy, and the friction inevitably made noise. He glanced warily back at the night watchman, but the man was sound asleep, showing no signs of waking.

Reassured, he turned back to peer into the furnace. Sure enough, the molten copper glowed red and liquid gold inside. He smirked as he pulled out a small packet wrapped in bark paper from his robe and tossed it through the gap into the molten copper. The powder dissolved and disappeared almost instantly.

Casting a golden idol was difficult, but sabotaging it was simple. Just a bit of the wrong adulterant, and the Han Princess would surely be doomed to fail tomorrow.

The powder he had thrown in was a powerful contaminant. With just a pinch, the Han Princess’s attempt would undoubtedly end in failure.

He could already picture the scene—his chieftain would surely reward him handsomely for this.

After sprinkling the powder, he carefully closed the lid and set down the tongs. Only then did he notice a purplish-black stain on his hand, likely from the dirty handle of the tongs. The dim lighting inside had kept him from noticing earlier.

No matter. It was just a minor detail—he could wash it off later.

With the task completed smoothly, he was in high spirits. Stepping outside, he pulled a small gold ingot from his robe and flipped it carelessly to Chu Lian, as if throwing a bone.

Chu Lian scrambled to catch it, completely unfazed by the man’s attitude.

Just as silently as he had arrived, the man vanished into the night.

Seeing him off, Chu Lian let out a relieved breath, clutching the gold ingot in his palm, his eyes gleaming with delight.

With this gold, he could trade for plenty of livestock and women, finally living the life of ease he had always dreamed of.

The mere thought made him grin uncontrollably—until the smile froze on his face as he was about to re-enter the building.

"Chu Lian, where have you been so late at night?"

A voice suddenly cut through the darkness, followed by a sudden flare of torchlight, illuminating the scene before him.

At the entrance stood Fu Tiesheng with a group of men, a smile on his face—but the smile made Chu Lian's blood run cold.

Chu Lian’s strength drained instantly, his legs giving way as he collapsed to the ground. The gold ingot in his hand went rolling across the floor.

——

It had been thirty or forty years since the Xianbei last seen their Khatun personally forging a golden figure. When the tribespeople in the royal court heard that the new Khatun would publicly forge a golden figure to seek divine guidance from the Hutian God, they were filled with curiosity, surprise, anticipation, and excitement. Everyone wondered—would this newly arrived Han Princess succeed?

Rumors had circulated in recent days that the Grand Shaman, after reading the stars, had foretold an ominous presence misleading the king. Yet the king refused to distance himself from this person, prompting the Hutian God to punish the Xianbei with devastating blizzards.

Though the king had many people around him, for some reason, everyone’s thoughts immediately turned to the Han Princess he had married.

Of course, not everyone believed these rumors—especially the herders who had received Jiang Congyan’s aid. They were grateful to her, for she had kindly sheltered them and their families during the worst days of the blizzard. Later, the Khatun had even organized efforts to help them rebuild their tents and traded wheat for their frozen livestock. Wheat could be stored for a long time, ensuring they would have food come spring... Every act of kindness from the Khatun had won their deep gratitude.

But as the rumors spread, repeated ad nauseam in people’s ears, even those who were on the fence started having second thoughts.

But now, all doubts and uncertainties were about to be resolved.

Today, it would be revealed whether the Khatun was a divine maiden recognized by the Hutian God or a harbinger of misfortune who would bring calamity to the Xianbei.

Before dawn, enthusiastic Xianbei tribespeople had already begun gathering in the open space before the metallurgy workshop.

The area, though originally quite spacious, could hardly withstand the surge of over a thousand people. They packed like sardines, shoulder to shoulder, with even children clamoring to come after hearing the Khatun would cast a golden figure. Now, they perched on their *a'da's* shoulders, craning their necks to watch.

The dense crowd made it impossible for those at the back to see clearly, but this did nothing to dampen the Xianbei tribespeople's fervor.

On the broadest and flattest stretch of grassland, a nine-foot-high gilding platform had already been erected.

The platform's main structure was built of wood, with a circular surface spanning 20 feet in diameter—ample space—adorned with colorful banners on all sides. At the forefront stood a towering sacrificial cauldron, the ceremonial vessel used for important rites.

The casting of the golden figure by the Khatun was one of the most significant rituals.

At this moment, Mo Wu sat cross-legged before the cauldron, eyes closed, lips moving continuously as if chanting prayers.

By the time Jiang Congyan and Tuo Baxiao arrived, the tribespeople had already formed an impenetrable ring around the platform.

"The King is here."

"The King and the Khatun have arrived."

No one knew who shouted it first, but a thousand heads turned in unison, like soldiers at attention, creating an eerie sight.

As the figures of the two on horseback approached from afar, the crowd erupted in a clamor of discussion. But as Tuo Baxiao drew nearer, the voices gradually quieted, leaving only burning stares to convey their excitement.

Having endured many trials, Jiang Congyan remained steady and unshaken even under the scrutiny of so many.

Her gaze swept over the sun-weathered faces of the herdsmen before briefly lingering on the Xianbei nobles in the front row.

Despite their efforts to suppress it, she could see their tension.

And how could they not be nervous? If she succeeded today, they would never be able to threaten her again.

Upon reaching the platform, Tuo Baxiao dismounted swiftly and then gracefully helped her down from her horse.

Jiang Congyan smoothed her robes slightly. Today, she wore no cloak, only a thick woolen garment beneath a crimson-and-azure robe.

She rarely donned such richly colored attire, but it was believed that *wuxing*—wood, fire, earth, metal, and water—corresponded to the five colors: blue, red, yellow, white, and black. Communicating with the gods required harmony with nature, hence the reverence for *hues* in shamanic robes.

The moment of truth was near. Under the gaze of all, she ascended the wooden steps slowly and steadily, step by step, until she stood upon the casting platform.

From this height, even those far away could see her clearly.

The weather today seemed to favor her as well. After days of relentless snowfall, the gray clouds finally parted, revealing a clear blue sky. Bright sunlight poured down, casting a radiant glow over her porcelain complexion. Against the backdrop of her multicolored robes, she appeared dignified, beautiful, and regal.

Even before the casting began, the crowd seemed to anticipate the outcome.

The Grand Shaman, broken by Tuo Baxiao’s hand, was naturally unable to preside over today’s ceremony. Even if he could move, Tuo Baxiao would not have allowed it. Thus, Mo Wu assumed his role.

As the second-highest-ranking shaman, it was only fitting for her to lead the prayers.

First, Mo Wu guided Jiang Congyan in offering reverence to the bronze cauldron, where incense burned, while uttering invocations. The gist was: *O mighty Hutian God, the Xianbei people seek your guidance. Is the woman about to cast the golden figure the Khatun you approve of? If so, bless her endeavor. If not, let her fail.*

Once the prayers concluded, Mo Wu finally announced the beginning.

Fu Tiesheng and his men brought forth the mold and the searing molten bronze. The liquid metal rested in a furnace, the charcoal beneath glowing white-hot. Despite the winter chill, the air above the molten bronze rippled with heat waves—a testament to its danger. One misstep could cause disfigurement or death.

She placed the mold on a stone table, positioning it properly. Jiang Congyan put on heat-resistant gloves and took hold of the crucible handle.

Though she wasn't particularly strong, her arm holding the heavy crucible remained perfectly steady as she lifted the molten copper, thick and red as lava, from the furnace and suspended it above the mold.

Now came the most critical step.

Taking a steadying breath under thousands of watching eyes, Jiang Congyan tilted her arm, letting the copper flow into the mold from top to bottom at a steady and precise pace.

As the molten copper poured in, the wax core inside the mold instantly vaporized under the thousand-degree heat.

At this moment, she blocked out all outside distractions—her eyes, mind, and hands focused solely on the copper and the mold before her.

The molten copper streamed down, filling every space inside.

Though she worked with complete concentration, the spectators below were more anxious than she was.

Tuo Baxiao clenched his fists, his green eyes locked onto her every movement.

She'd told him earlier—she'd tested it and was certain it would work. But that was then, and this was now. Until the very last moment, he couldn’t relax.

His heart felt like it was being squeezed, barely able to beat.

The crowd craned their necks, holding their breath, eyes unblinkingly fixed on the figure atop the casting platform.

Her every movement was deliberate and graceful, as if casting the golden figure was effortless for her.

Would the Khatun be successful?

Once the pouring was complete, Jiang Congyan set down the crucible, withdrawing with her team.

Now, they waited for the molten copper to cool and solidify, to see if the golden figure was a success.

Only then did she feel the sweat on her back—whether from nervousness or the heat, she wasn’t sure.

Probably nervousness. In truth, she wasn't as composed as she seemed, nor entirely confident of success. Jiang Congyan thought to herself.

The crowd waited eagerly, wishing they could see the results right away.

Only Kediyan watched with an amused smirk, chest slightly puffed, idly toying with a ruby in his palm, as if already certain of her failure.

Standing high on the casting platform, Jiang Congyan suddenly glanced his way. Their eyes met, and she gave him a faint smile.

Kediyan stiffened, struck by a sudden sense of foreboding. What did that smile mean? He quickly reassured himself—last night’s arrangements had been perfect. She couldn’t possibly succeed.

Time passed, minute by minute. Though it was a clear day, the winter wind still carried a biting chill, yet the crowd below appeared not to feel the cold.

Finally, the moment of truth arrived.

Jiang Congyan stepped back, gesturing for Mo Wu to remove the mold.

Under the expectant gaze of thousands, Mo Wu carefully chipped away the clay casing, revealing the golden figure within.

She inspected it meticulously.

The crowd’s hearts rose and fell with her every motion. Silence reigned, but their heavy breaths and burning eyes betrayed their anticipation.

Even the north wind stilled. The tension had reached its peak, almost unbearable.

At last, Mo Wu announced the result of the golden figure casting to the crowd—

"The golden figure is successfully cast!"