Subsequently, everything returned to normal, and then they resumed what they were doing.
The vast majority of people didn't know what had happened, nor did they realize what had caused their momentary stupor.
In an ancient city in Jiangnan.
Blacksmith's shop.
"Ding ding!"
A middle-aged blacksmith held a hammer in his hand, striking the glowing red Treasured Sword, while the wall to his side was filled with all kinds of weapons.
This blacksmith wore a serious expression, his eyes were bright and piercing, with a muscular body and a face full of steel-like whiskers, his sturdy shoulders covered with twisted muscles and glistening sweat.
With each strike, the spiritual power radiated from his body, sprinkling outward, and he cooled the scorching hot sword by placing it in the Hundred-year Black Water.
"Sizzle!"
A large amount of steam spread out, obscuring the view.
At once, a sharp and exquisite sword was forged.