Ink and inkstone, can these really be used to sharpen a knife?
Du Chengfeng once thought he had seen wrong. After all, these two items didn't seem related to knives at all. But just as he was puzzled, an old hand picked up the Broken Horse Long Saber.
The old hand caressed the blade, just as Du Chengfeng had done earlier.
After this initial sensation, a brush tip touched the blade.
Ink spread across the blade, and the old hand moved like a dragon or serpent, soon covering the entire blade with text, a classic encouraging study and learning.
And after this, the Broken Horse Long Saber was placed on the inkstone.
Outside the window, the sound of reading aloud could be heard.
The readers included children, youths, young adults, and even the elderly. The voices were chaotic, yet harmonious. Accompanied by this reading, the Broken Horse Long Saber, being continuously honed on the inkstone, gradually lost some of its killing aura and gained a scholarly fragrance.
This blade was actually joining in the reading.
At this moment, Du Chengfeng clearly sensed this fact.
However, precisely because of the exertion of grasping this sensation, his already weak perception became even more blurred—fortunately, before the vision completely faded, Du Chengfeng finally glimpsed the final step of the sharpening process.
That was to wipe the ink from the blade with a book, and then give the Broken Horse Long Saber a deep bow.
"...Is this possible?"
Coming to his senses, Du Chengfeng felt his head buzzing.
Not that the perception had put any physical strain on him, but because what he just perceived was overly abstract.
Although he could roughly understand the scenes, in relation to sharpening a blade, he couldn't comprehend it at all.
"So, they replaced the water for wetting the grinding stone with ink, and used an inkstone instead of a grinding stone?"
Following his own sharpening experience, Du Chengfeng tried to understand.
But Du Chengfeng's understanding could only go so far. As for everything else, whether the inscriptions on the blade, the reading voices outside the window, or the final deep bow, all fell into a realm he couldn't quite grasp.
Du Chengfeng could roughly guess that this might be some kind of blade sharpening process, but why it had to be conducted in such an artistic manner, he couldn't fathom.
So, he decided to try it himself.
"I should have bought a brush..."
After rummaging through boxes, Du Chengfeng finally found the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone he never used, at the bottom of a box.
Having ground the ink and dipped the brush fully, Du Chengfeng prepared to undertake the first step, which was writing—although he couldn't remember exactly what to write. The study encouragement he perceived earlier was vastly different from the one he remembered, not to mention he couldn't recite the actual encouragement text from memory.
So after a moment's thought, Du Chengfeng decided to just write something at random.
Then he picked up the Heavy Great Saber at hand.
This was because, with his terrible handwriting, he really couldn't write much on the relatively slender Broken Horse Long Saber, and the broad two-handed sword in his possession allowed him more space to write.
"So, we're all well acquainted fellows, you surely wouldn't mind, right?"
The heavy saber lay quietly in his hand, showing no signs of displeasure.
And Du Chengfeng began his inscription.
"Bright moonlight before my bed, I suspect it's frost on the ground... I'll just test the pen first! What's the rush!"
Seeing the heavy saber about to smash onto his foot, Du Chengfeng quickly wiped the ink off with a cloth, then inscribed a few more lines.
"Killing one in ten steps, traveling far without a trace, after the deed, brushing sleeves, hiding fame and self deeply."
This time, the heavy saber didn't drop onto his foot but lay quietly in his hand, seemingly satisfied with these lines.
The first step completed haphazardly, Du Chengfeng started preparing for the second step. The sound of reading was beyond him, primarily because he didn't have enough people. While he could gather the Yang family to read, it was a bit inconsiderate in the middle of the night.
After a moment's hesitation, Du Chengfeng decided to try reciting a few lines himself.
After all, it was just an experiment, so shrinking the steps a little might not matter.
"The Zhaoke guest waves the Hu-style tassel, the Wu-hook shines like frost and snow. The silver saddle reflects the white horse, galloping like a meteor..."
Reciting one of the few works he could still remember, "The Swordsman's Walk", Du Chengfeng began honing the Heavy Great Saber in his hand.
Speaking of which, this blade indeed needed sharpening. Though he had just honed it recently, he subsequently used it to cut down over two hundred Hu warriors. Even though the cutting technique allowed the blade to glide through the gaps of bones, maximizing blade protection, after severing over two hundred people, the blade inevitably had some imperceptible minor damages.
During this grinding process, Du Chengfeng vaguely felt that those imperceptible damages on the blade were gradually being repaired.
This surprised Du Chengfeng, as the situation somewhat exceeded his common knowledge. It was well-known that blade edges become thinner as they are sharpened, and so-called edge sharpening is just removing the old edge to reveal a new one.
Just as people go through birth, aging, illness, and death, blades too often have their limits. When the steel edge is worn down, when the blade cannot be further sharpened, it reaches the end of its life.
Of course, people facing birth, aging, illness, and death can resort to medicines or nourishing practices to get through the ordeal. But can blades of steel do the same?
"Yes! They really can!"
The more he sharpened, the more startled Du Chengfeng became.
Despite the sharpening process consuming the steel edge, the Heavy Great Saber seemed to gain some sort of nurturance, with even the nicks and chips restored, and the edge itself seeming even sharper.
Picking up the saber, Du Chengfeng lightly tested the edge.
His finger hadn't even touched the blade before a blood mark appeared.
"Then comes the final step..."
Though still somewhat puzzled, Du Chengfeng recalled the process and prepared to conclude.
As for wiping the blade with a book... he didn't have one. Books weren't something one could buy easily in a rural market. But he could manage the bowing part. However, looking at the saber in his hand, Du Chengfeng felt that with their familiarity, the saber didn't require any bowing.
On the contrary, he felt that what the saber needed now was, in fact, wine.