Chapter 23: Song of the Fire God (Part One)

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“Afou, your father is calling you home.”

Cao Peng was riding his horse slowly along the riverbank when Wang Meng suddenly ran up, shouting loudly at him.

“What does my father want with me?”

“Did you forget? Last night at dinner, your father told you that today you’d be lighting the furnace, didn’t he? You wanted to strike the first blow yourself!”

“Ah!” Cao Peng cried out. He turned his horse and spurred it away.

According to the customs of the late Eastern Han, when a new iron furnace was built, a sacrificial ceremony was required to pray for the Fire God’s blessing, hoping for thriving business in the future. Igniting the fire was a crucial step; once the furnace was heated, smelting and forging would begin... The honor of the first hammer blow usually fell to the master craftsman. Cao Peng had always been fascinated by this, and had begged Cao Ji to let him strike the first blow.

Ordinarily, Cao Ji would never have agreed. But Deng Ji and Cao Nan pleaded on Cao Peng’s behalf, and Lady Zhang also put in a good word. After much persuasion, Cao Ji finally agreed to let Cao Peng have the honor. After all, under Cao Ji’s guidance, Cao Peng had already learned some of the essential skills.

Wang Meng watched Cao Peng’s retreating figure and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Tiger-head, let’s go back too…”

“Father, I’d like to practice a bit longer.”

Wang Meng’s face darkened. “Child, don’t you understand? Do you know why Afou wants to learn smithing? He wants to forge a fine blade to make up for you! Such an important event—and you’re not going to witness it? When Afou finally makes you a sword, will you have the heart to accept it?”

In truth, Wang Meng didn’t believe Cao Peng could make a fine blade. But the sentiment moved him deeply. Wang Mai, upon hearing this, grew flustered, hurriedly gathered his clothes, and led his horse over.

“Father, let’s go back then.”

“How could you insist on Afou compensating you with a blade? You know full well what happened to his old sword… Besides, it’s not worth much. You really shouldn’t have.”

“I was just joking; who could have guessed Afou would take it so seriously?”

Father and son hurried back, muttering as they went.

Beneath a peach tree by the riverbank, a black leather pouch sat quietly. Neither Wang Meng nor Wang Mai noticed it.

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Preparations at home were complete.

Before the melting furnace, sacrificial offerings of three animals were arrayed.

As soon as Cao Peng entered the house, Cao Ji seized him. “You rascal—yesterday you couldn’t stop talking about smithing, but today you forgot?”

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“I…”

“All right, enough—hurry and get dressed! Your mother’s already prepared your clothes. Quickly change, we must begin the Fire God’s sacrifice and light the furnace… Don’t delay the auspicious hour.”

In these times, an auspicious day was essential.

The Cao family’s iron furnace had long been built, but they’d delayed the ritual for want of a lucky date. Cao Ji would not tolerate another postponement! If they missed today, they’d have to wait another seven or eight days. By then, the New Year would be upon them, and things would become hectic—there’d be no time to start work. After the Beginning of Spring, the land must be turned in preparation for planting before the rains. Every farming household would soon be busy repairing their tools… This was the best time of year.

Cao Peng hurriedly donned a black robe and stood behind Cao Ji.

Lady Zhang and Cao Nan could not join the ceremony—for they were women! According to Cao Ji, women would offend the Fire God and invite disaster. The old belief was that yin and yang must not clash… Fire is the ultimate yang, while women are yin, and so should not share the same space.

A stick of incense, already halfway burned, smoldered beneath the altar. If it burned out, the propitious moment for lighting the furnace would be lost.

Cao Ji led Cao Peng to the altar and chanted the ancient sacrificial text in a loud voice. According to him, this furnace-lighting prayer had been handed down orally for generations. It was recited in an archaic dialect, and every blacksmith was required to learn it. Without the sacrificial prayer, one could not become a master craftsman.

Cao Peng could not quite understand it, but he knelt obediently before the altar.

After five or six minutes, the prayer ended. Cao Ji led Cao Peng around the furnace, circling it as they paid their respects—this, he said, was the dance of lighting the furnace. After three circuits, the initial ritual was over. Cao Ji moved the altar from the furnace shed and beckoned Cao Peng over.

“Afou, stand beside me and follow my lead!”

Cao Peng secretly grimaced. So many rituals just to light a furnace?

Cao Ji washed his hands in clean water, then dried them with a cloth. He placed a block of mountain hemp wood on the furnace’s frame. Beneath the frame, dried grass was piled up to serve as tinder. Cao Ji was preparing to start a fire by friction—the most primitive method. But don’t look down on it; the tools required special preparation. The mountain hemp wood, for example, had to come from trees by mountain streams.

Its wood was soft, with a high coefficient of friction, generating heat quickly and retaining it well.

Such wood was hard to find, often requiring days of searching deep in the forests. Once found, it needed further preparation: the center had to be hollow, with a thin wooden core. Only such wood could produce high-temperature shavings… Of course, there was no scientific explanation in the late Han; they simply said the Fire God was about to descend.

Cao Ji positioned the fireboard and picked up the drill rod.

There was an art to the drill rod as well: about fifty centimeters long, one end slightly tapered.

A small pit in the fireboard anchored the drill, with a groove carved from the pit—a fire channel. The sparks generated by drilling would travel along the fire channel and fall onto the tinder. There was also a technique to the drilling itself; without practice, the knack was hard to master.

Cao Ji gripped the drill, found his balance, and pressed down.

Taking two deep breaths, he looked at Cao Peng. “We’re about to begin!”

Please, let’s start quickly… the incense is nearly gone!

These thoughts remained unspoken. Cao Peng, with a solemn face, nodded gravely. “Father, let’s begin.”

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“Fire, O sun, you who give me light… Fire, you are like the sun, give me your brightness…”

Suddenly, Cao Ji raised his voice in song.

This was the “Song of the Fire God,” a chant that must accompany the invocation. Legend had it that the song dated back to antiquity, and in later ages was nearly lost, preserved only in a few remote regions. Cao Ji sang in the dialect of Nanyang Commandery; if translated, the meaning would be much as above. Some of the words were so archaic that even standing nearby and listening intently, Cao Peng could not quite understand, only grasping the general sense.

As he sang, Cao Ji rhythmically spun the drill rod.

Gradually, a wisp of blue smoke rose from the mountain hemp wood…

The first sparks were not visible to the naked eye, for they were mere flecks of blackened wood. Cao Peng saw tiny black particles fly out, following the fire channel into the furnace. The dry grass inside was the tinder. But that alone wouldn’t produce flames.

“Peng’er, blow the fire!”

“Ah—how do I blow?”

During a pause in the singing, Cao Ji urged, “The bellows!”

“Understood!”

Cao Peng quickly crouched down, grabbed the bellows’ handle, and began to pump gently.

“Slower, not too fast!”

The bellows were heavy; working them took real effort. In the past, Cao Peng would never have managed it…

Following Cao Ji’s instructions, Cao Peng worked the bellows, sending air into the furnace.

Gradually, the blackened particles on the straw began to glow red, growing ever brighter with the steady air.

Smoke began to rise inside the furnace.

Cao Ji dared not pause; he kept drilling and singing at the top of his voice.

“Peng’er, push hard!”

At Cao Ji’s shout, Cao Peng pulled the bellows handle back and then thrust it forward with all his strength. With a whoosh, a burst of flame sprang up in the furnace, instantly igniting the fireboard. Cao Ji quickly let go, pushed Cao Peng aside, and shouted, “Peng’er, add more charcoal, more!”

Wang Meng and his son carried in two buckets of charcoal from outside the shed.

Under Cao Ji’s direction, Cao Peng rhythmically fed the charcoal into the furnace.

The goal was to fill the furnace and keep the temperature steady. Once the charcoal caught, Cao Ji finally released the bellows handle and signaled for Cao Peng to step back.

In just those few moments, Cao Peng was drenched in sweat.

It was not only physical exhaustion, but also mental strain… The solemnity of the Fire God’s welcoming ceremony created a reverent atmosphere. In such an environment, every effort seemed worth three or four times as much as usual… How could Cao Peng not be tired?