Studying at Western University starts with a knife-forging competition

As the acid-washed dagger slowly rotated under the camera lights, Xiao Li paused the video, leaned back in his chair, and let out a long breath.

The blade on the screen was covered with a layer of flowing cloud patterns, not the parallel lines of ordinary Damascus steel, but layer upon layer of cloud-like patterns that seemed to slowly surge inside the blade as they flipped under the light. He stared at the frozen image for more than ten seconds, then pressed play again.

He didn't pay much attention to the judges' reactions; his attention was entirely focused on Lin Yuan's dagger.

Doug Macheda examined the dagger over and over, his eyes practically bulging with excitement. He noticed Nelson and David Baker whispering to each other on the judges' panel while watching the video, but at the time, he was only thinking about how many layers of forging Lin Yuan had gone through to make this knife, and he didn't have time to pay attention to the judges' expressions.

As the video played to the end, when the host announced Lin Yuan's advancement, Xiao Li unconsciously clenched his hand holding the mouse.

He was about to drag the progress bar back to watch the forging section again when he heard footsteps behind him.

Lin Yuan's father pushed open the door and came in.

The old man was wearing a faded dark blue work jacket, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and his hands still had some smudged machine oil on them, probably from the workshop. He was holding a folder, presumably to confirm some documents with Xiao Li.

"Xiao Li, the one from the previous batch—"

Halfway through his sentence, his gaze fell on Xiao Li's computer screen. The screen showed a close-up of Lin Yuan—he was standing in front of his workstation, holding the cloud-patterned dagger that had just been acid-washed, the studio lights illuminating the flowing patterns on the blade.

Lin Yuan's father paused for a moment.

He switched the folder to his left hand, and with his right hand, he took out his reading glasses from his pocket and put them on the bridge of his nose.

He got his reading glasses two years ago. The temples were a bit loose. After putting them on, he habitually pressed the nose pads with his thumb and then squinted slightly at the screen.

It was only then that Xiao Li realized what was happening. He quickly dragged the progress bar to the front, then stood up and asked Lin Yuan's father to sit down: "Factory Manager, Brother Yuan is on TV. He participated in that sword forging competition before, and he's on this episode."

Lin Yuan's father didn't say anything, but took two steps forward and sat down in Xiao Li's chair, his eyes never leaving the screen.

The video started playing from the beginning. During the opening introduction, Lin Yuan hadn't appeared yet. The old man stood upright, a folder tucked under his arm, his hands hanging at his sides, his posture suggesting he was looking at something very important. Xiao Li moved aside, turning his chair so the screen was facing the old man directly.

When Lin Yuan appeared, the old man's brow twitched slightly.

Lin Yuan's father knew his son all too well. From childhood to adulthood, Lin Yuan had grown up under his watchful eye; what hadn't he seen?

But this was the first time he saw his son standing at the competition booth on the screen, facing four cameras, ready to compete against three American players.

He was completely different from the young man who usually helped out at the factory and swung a hammer in front of the forging furnace.

After the forging process began, Lin Yuan's father's expression changed.

He leaned forward slightly, trying to get a better look.

The camera cuts to Lin Yuan taking a steel billet out of the forging furnace. The light from the flames shines on his face, and his eyes are focused and calm, just like when he was helping out at the Longquan factory—but not exactly the same.

When he was in Longquan, he was an apprentice, following behind his master and helping him. His movements carried a sense of caution, as if he were learning.

The person on the screen moved with unwavering certainty, without hesitation or trial and error. He knew the outcome before the hammer even fell.

The old man clicked his tongue when he heard the part about water forging.

The sound wasn't loud, but Xiao Li heard it clearly.

That "tsk" wasn't a sound of dissatisfaction, but rather an exclamation that came out of my throat after witnessing a brilliant play.

The moment the steam bursts from the anvil, it is followed by a rapid and steady hammering, each strike hitting the folded joint with precision.

"He uses water forging." Lin Yuan's father's voice was soft, as if he were talking to himself. "The steam blows off the oxide scale before hammering, making the forged and welded surface cleaner. I taught him this method at the factory, but he didn't quite get it right back then. Now he's actually using it."

Xiao Li didn't dare to say anything. He noticed a slight curve at the corner of the old man's mouth when he said, "He didn't have a very good grasp of it back then."

The video continued. During the quenching segment, Lin Yuan pushed the oil tank aside and directly picked up the water tank.

Xiao Li saw the old man's fingers tap lightly twice on the edge of the folder, the rhythm almost synchronized with the rhythm of Lin Yuan quenching his fire in the water on the screen.

"Water quenching. Quite bold." The old man muttered to himself again, this time in a softer voice.

When the acid etching of the dagger was completed and the cloud-like patterns unfolded in front of the camera, the old man remained silent for a long time.

He stood there, his hands hanging at his sides, a folder tucked under his arm, his eyes behind his reading glasses fixed on the slowly rotating blade on the screen.

The camera cuts to the judges' panel, where Doug is examining the dagger from all angles. Nelson and David Baker are talking, but the old man's attention never leaves the dagger.

Xiao Li secretly glanced at him.

Although the old man's face didn't show much expression, Xiao Li saw that his brows had clearly relaxed and the corners of his mouth had turned up slightly. It was obvious that although he was complaining, the old man was still very happy inside.

"Not bad." Lin Yuan's father finally spoke, his voice still in that calm tone, but his speech was a little slower than usual. "The swirling cloud pattern has come out, the number of layers is sufficient, and the pattern isn't blurred. The acid washing was done perfectly, and the contrast between the dark and light layers is just right."

Before he went abroad, when he was making laminated steel, it was easy for the layers to separate at the corners. Now that problem has been solved.

He paused here, took off his reading glasses, wiped the lenses with his thumb, and put them back on.

"You've made great progress in the last two years, kid." His tone was still critical, but he couldn't suppress the smile on his face. "The stuff you've produced is now presentable."

Xiao Li couldn't help but complain in his heart.

Is it presentable? This dagger would be a showstopper at any knife exhibition in China, and the judges would be glued to it. But the old man just said, "It's presentable."

But he was used to it. That's just the kind of person Lin Yuan's father is. Asking him to praise his son in front of outsiders is harder than asking him to perform on stage.

To say that someone has made "significant progress" is already a very high compliment.

He was wondering whether he should say something when the old man's phone rang.

The ringtone was the old Nokia default ringtone, which startled Xiao Li when it rang in the quiet office.

The old man took his phone out of his pocket, glanced at the screen, and when he answered the call, his expression changed, as if he had been caught red-handed and was momentarily at a loss.

"I...I'm at the factory. Xiao Li has something to do here." He turned to the side and lowered his voice, but the soundproofing in the office was practically nonexistent, and Xiao Li could still hear the voice coming from the receiver—it was Lin Yuan's mother, her voice wasn't loud but her speech was extremely fast, rattling off words like a machine gun.

"Old Lin, were you watching your son's competition video at Xiao Li's place? I called Xiao Li earlier but no one answered, so I knew you were there! You watched it, so be it! Let me tell you, that knife is gorgeous, I've looked at it three times, the pattern is just like clouds—"

"Alright, alright," Lin Yuan's father interrupted her, his tone carrying a hint of annoyance at being exposed, but not entirely genuine anger. "I'm talking to Xiao Li about serious matters. You can watch that video when you get home tonight. It's not like you'll never be able to watch it again."

The person on the other end of the phone rattled off a string of words. Xiao Li couldn't make out the specifics, but he vaguely heard the words "showing off," "not saying it out loud," and "being secretly pleased with himself."

Lin Yuan's father's ears turned slightly red. He switched the phone to his other ear, took two steps toward the door, and lowered his voice even further.

"Okay, okay. You can hang up now."

After hanging up the phone, he stuffed it back into his pocket and turned to look at Xiao Li. His expression had returned to its usual calm, but the redness on the tips of his ears hadn't completely faded.

"You can continue with your work." He picked up the folder and walked towards the door. He paused at the door without turning around, but his voice came from the doorway, softer and slower than before.

"Send me a copy of that video later."

Then he pushed the door open and went out.

Xiao Li sat in his chair, watching the office door slowly close, the hinges making a slight creak.

He glanced down at his phone. Lin Yuan's mother's call log showed two missed calls, one from ten minutes ago and the other from five minutes ago.

He probably remembered to call Xiao Li to ask about the modeling halfway through the video, but the call didn't go through, so he went and caught the old man red-handed.

He couldn't help but chuckle, noted down Lin Yuan's dad's request for the video in his notes, and then picked up his phone to reply to Lin Yuan: "Brother Yuan, your dad just watched your match video here, and after he finished watching, he asked me to send him a copy as well."

Your mother saw it too, and said the pattern on the knife looked like clouds; she looked at it three times.

After sending the video, he put his phone on the table, reopened the video, dragged the progress bar back to the part where Lin Yuan was forging, leaned back in his chair, and prepared to watch it again from the beginning.