Since your blade was blatantly damaged, you were either in dire call of a new sword or a serious repair. There was one individual capable of doing that.

And so you sought Yingxing, the renowned craftsman.

The din of the metalwork muffled your words as you called out his name, his arm moving up and down, moulding the hot iron.

"Hmph," he sighed, still not noticing you.

Therefore, you watched Yingxing move with each hammer swing. Perhaps it was something more than his skill you were admiring.