Kevin Bolton steeled his heart, turned away, and left together with the The Johnson Brothers. The Great Qing Fort wasn’t very big, and in no time, they arrived at the home of Liam the Blacksmith by the east gate.

Driven by curiosity, Frank Johnson ran ahead, shouting from a distance, “Uncle Thompson, I’m here! Are you home?”

He called out several times, but no one answered. Frank Johnson vaulted over the wall into the yard and pushed open the door.

“Uncle Thompson, what did you make for Brother Kevin? Let me have a look first—”

Before he could finish, Frank Johnson glanced inside and was so startled he cried out, “Oh my god!” and scrambled out, tumbling over himself.

“Something’s wrong, Big Brother, Brother Kevin, something terrible has happened! Uncle Thompson and the others are all dead!”

Frank Johnson ran to Kevin Bolton and the others, crying and shouting anxiously, “Quick, go find Doctor Clark, maybe there’s still hope. I bet it was Charles Walker who did this—he’s got a black heart. Uncle Thompson was such a good man. When we have money, we must burn lots of paper offerings for him, so he can wear gold and silver and have three or four wives in the afterlife…”

He wailed loudly. Kevin Bolton was also startled; he would never forget the honest man who brought him silver that morning. If Liam the Blacksmith had really been killed, he would risk his life for revenge!

Just as Kevin Bolton was about to react, his expression suddenly turned odd.

Frank Johnson was still rambling, “Brother Kevin, I’m serious! We’ll burn three hundred paper maidens for Uncle Thompson!”

“Ahem, no need for that—better save them for your own father!”

An aged voice sounded from behind, making Frank Johnson jump three feet in the air. He spun around to see Liam the Blacksmith standing there in a tattered cotton jacket, frowning. In an instant, his face changed colors like a dye shop—what a sight!

“Huh? Are you a ghost or a man?”

“You rascal, this old man is alive and well—no need for your filial piety!”

Frank Johnson exclaimed in surprise, “But I just saw you lying by the stove—wasn’t that you?”

Liam the Blacksmith snorted, “I’ve been working day and night with a few kids these past days, only just finished this morning. I’d just lain down when you started hollering!”

Only then did Frank Johnson realize what had happened. He scratched his head and chuckled, “A misunderstanding, just a misunderstanding!”

George Johnson and Kevin Bolton couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out laughing.

“Uncle Thompson, sorry for troubling you!” Kevin Bolton knew Liam the Blacksmith was just exhausted and apologized sincerely.

Liam the Blacksmith didn’t mind at all. He grabbed Kevin Bolton with a big, calloused hand, his wrinkled face breaking into a broad grin.

“Nephew, come in with me—I guarantee you’ll be amazed!”

Following Liam the Blacksmith into the room, they saw hammers and molds scattered everywhere, pine wood piled in the corner, and a forge and bellows at the front. Three sooty boys stood in a row, all with panda eyes and long trails of sleep in the corners, rubbing their eyes and grinning as Kevin Bolton entered.

“Hmph, useless lot, all you know is how to grin like fools.”

Frank Johnson couldn’t wait any longer and hurriedly said to the The Thompson Brothers, “Brother Stone, hurry up and bring out the treasure—let me have a good look!”

The eldest of the The Thompson Family nodded eagerly, “Right away, right away!”

Soon, he came trotting out of the next room carrying a pitch-black stove and set it down in front of everyone. Liam the Blacksmith looked immensely proud and said with a smile, “Nephew, take a look—pretty well made, isn’t it?”

The stove was cylindrical and heavy in the hand, weighing over ten jin. The surface was a bit rough, but for the current standards, it was quite good. After all, it was to be sold to the Mongols, so it didn’t need to be too refined.

Compared to the stoves of this era, the biggest innovation in Kevin Bolton’s design was the addition of a grate. The so-called grate was a layer between the firebox and the bottom, with gaps to let the ashes fall through and to enhance airflow, making combustion more efficient. On top of the stove were two opposing handles where a grill could be placed—very convenient and exactly as Kevin Bolton had designed.

This was it!

Kevin Bolton smiled with satisfaction. “Uncle Thompson, your craftsmanship is second to none.”

“Hahaha, never mind the craftsmanship—the key is your blueprint! It was so detailed, we barely had to think!” Liam the Blacksmith squatted in front of the stove, pointing inside. “Especially this grate—light and flexible, saved over three jin of iron, lowered the cost, and the firebox is bigger now. Boiling water and cooking are much faster. Not only will the Mongols love it, even Uncle wants to keep one for himself.”

Frank Johnson had been interested in the stove for a while, and after hearing Liam the Blacksmith’s explanation, he lay on the ground to examine it closely.

“Brother Kevin, how did you even come up with this? It’s so clever and convenient! If we take one hunting, it’ll be so much easier!”

Watching Frank Johnson bouncing around and waving his arms, George Johnson coughed. “Second Brother, you want everything, but who knows how many we have? Selling them for money is what matters now.”

“Right, let’s get the silver first. Uncle Thompson, tell us—how many did you make?”

“Hehehe, Kid, come and see for yourself!”