The moment Qin Yusheng disappeared into the forest, I let out a slow breath and leaned back against the tree, exhaustion catching up to me.
That was way too close.
If I had said the wrong thing, she could've decided to cripple me on the spot.
But instead of fighting me, she gave me a warning.
That meant she didn't see me as a threat.
... Good.
For now, that worked in my favor. The less attention I drew, the better.
But even though I wasn't on anyone's radar yet, I couldn't stay invisible forever.
I needed money.
Without it, I had no food, no medicine, and no resources.
And in a sect where strength was everything, people like me... "the powerless and forgotten"... were nothing more than stepping stones for others.
If I wanted to survive, I needed a way to stand out.
And I already had an idea.
....
A Business in the Making
The martial world was obsessed with strength, but most warriors never thought about presentation.
Their robes were tattered, their sect banners looked outdated, and their weapons lacked personality.
They trained to kill and conquer, but they forgot that perception was power too.
A sect that looked powerful was often treated as powerful, even if they weren't the strongest.
And that was where I came in.
I wasn't just a martial artist now....I was still Lu Xuan Ming at heart. A designer.
I could craft, improve, and reshape things to make them stand out.
And if I played my cards right, I could turn that skill into money.
.....
The First Client
I made my way down to the marketplace inside the sect's outer grounds, a bustling area where low-ranked disciples, merchants, and wandering martial artists gathered to trade.
The air smelled of incense, roasted meat, and damp parchment, and the sound of haggling voices filled the streets.
I needed a starting point, someone desperate enough to take a risk on an unknown designer.
And after scanning the crowd, I found him.
A young man.... probably 18 or 19,standing near a weaponsmith's stall, arguing with the blacksmith.
His face was round with sharp eyes, and his sect robes were noticeably plain compared to the other disciples. His posture was tense, his voice edged with frustration.
I listened closely.
"I paid you for a custom saber, and this is what you give me?" he snapped, holding up a mediocre-looking weapon with a chipped blade and uneven weight distribution.
The blacksmith, an older man with scarred arms, let out a tired sigh. "Kid, you paid for the cheapest custom job. That's what you get."
The young man scowled. "I can't enter the disciple tournament with this!"
.... Hehe, Bingo. That's it!!
I smoothed my robes, walked over, and casually tapped the hilt of the saber in his hand.
"You're holding it wrong," I said.
Both of them turned to look at me.
The young man frowned. "What?"
I took the saber from his grip and weighed it in my hands, tilting it slightly before twisting my wrist in a controlled arc.
"The balance is off, but it's not entirely useless," I said. "However… it's not just about the blade, it's about how you present it."
I turned to him, giving him a knowing look. "You're entering the disciple tournament, right?"
His frown deepened, but he nodded. "Yeah. What of it?"
I smirked. "Then let me make you stand out."
His eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
I extended my hand.
"Lu Tian. A Designer."
He hesitated. "Designer?"
I nodded. "You don't just need a weapon. You need a symbol.... a presence that makes your enemies remember you the moment you step onto the stage."
His eyes flickered with interest.
"…Go on."
I took a step closer, lowering my voice like I was sharing a secret.
"Your saber is weak, but I can fix that. I can redesign the hilt, adjust the balance, and reinforce the blade with a subtle engraving technique that will make it look twice as intimidating as it is."
He glanced at the saber in his hands, then back at me. "…And?"
I smiled. "And, I'll design a new robe for you.... one that flows with your movements, amplifies your presence, and makes sure everyone watching the tournament remembers your name."
His breath hitched slightly.
I knew I had him.
The martial world was full of competition. If you didn't stand out, you were forgotten.
I was offering him a way to be remembered.
Finally, he crossed his arms. "How much?"
I stroked my chin, pretending to think. "Since this is my first job, I'll give you a discount... three silver taels."
His jaw dropped. "That's still expensive!"
I smirked. "Quality isn't cheap."
He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. But if this doesn't help me win the tournament, I'm demanding a refund."
I extended my hand again. "Deal."
He hesitated before shaking it.
"And what's your name?" I asked.
He sighed. "Zhao Feng."
I grinned. "Pleasure doing business, Zhao Feng."
I had my first client.
And this was only the beginning.