Li Guanyi watched as Old Wen's shovel, bearing the memories and experiences of a lifetime, melted away, and as each tool liquefied into a golden-red fluid, all merging together.
That shovel accompanied Old Wen from his youthful days at fifteen to now, through all the experiences—the joyful, the painful, the struggling ones—and ultimately those that meant survival.
And here, like Old Wen, there were tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of such items, deeply connected to this land, laden with deep emotions and profound grief.
They came from every corner of Jiangnan, spanning two thousand miles.
The needle for sewing clothes for children, the shovel for tilling the land, the sword to protect the family, the broadsword—all symbols of this world in turmoil, yearning for peace.
They represented the people and memories of this land, the emotions between earth and humanity.
Only such materials are worthy for forging the Nine Cauldrons!
