Inside the workshop in Xiaoyu Township, Xia Huai'an pushed open the heavy wooden door, and a pungent odor mixed with soot, rust, and sweat hit him full in the face. Inside the dimly lit workshop, dozens of artisans were busy around several oddly shaped metal devices. The sound of hammers striking, metal grinding, and the shouts of the artisans intertwined.
"Master!" a hoarse voice came from the corner. Following the sound, Xia Huai'an saw Yang Sanlang raising his head from a pile of blueprints. His once-round face now had sunken cheekbones, deep-set eye sockets, and stubble scattered messily across his chin. His short tunic was stained with grease and coal dust, and his right hand was wrapped in blood-soaked cloth.
"Sanlang, what happened to you..." Xia Huai'an strode forward, his brow furrowed.
Chapter 177