Han Yu narrowed his eyes. "Why so cheap?"
"Because no one gives me any jobs!" the disciple blurted, face turning red. "I just want to prove I can actually do something without blowing up a forge again—uh, not that I ever blew one up recently!"
"...Right."
Han Yu tapped the glaive on the ground and studied the kid.
There was something earnest about the guy. Nervous, yes—but not the conniving type. Besides, the weapon wasn't enchanted or spiritually bound. If he ruined it, Han Yu could just punch things again until he got a better one.
"Fine," Han Yu said, holding out his hand. "Deal."
The disciple grinned so hard it looked like his face might crack.
"I'm Mu Zhi, by the way!" he said. "I'll have it ready in three days. Just leave it with me and don't touch the forge doors if you see it sparking."
