This ordinary little courtyard seems quite peaceful and peaceful.

It was rare for Blacksmith Zhao not to forge iron, so he sat on the stone steps in front of the door and smoked his pipe leisurely. It was not that he had no iron to strike, but because he was afraid that the sonorous sound would disturb his son from doing his homework.

"Where's the cool weather?"

Across the door, a person walked out.

It was Uncle Niu, an old man's shirt with holes in it, and he looked particularly down-to-earth when he wore it.

"The child is doing his homework." Blacksmith Zhao said with a smile.

"If I remember correctly, you will be sixty in two months, and you can still work for a few more years." Uncle Niu also sat down and took out his old pipe, "When you get old, who will support your children?

He is a rough man who depends on the weather for food. Spend less and save more rations, so that the children will not starve. Listen to my advice, don't let Zilong go to private school anymore, go home and blacksmith with you!"

"You can hold on." The old blacksmith chuckled.

In the room, candlelight flickered.

Zhao Yun sat in front of the window, holding a pen in his hand, writing quietly.

He is not left-handed, but he writes with his left hand.

Holding a pen in his left hand and a hammer in his right hand, he not only wanted to learn literacy, but also passed down the craftsmanship of the old Zhao family from generation to generation.

The word "dian" was shouted in confusion, and suddenly rang in his ears.

As usual, he couldn't find the source of the sound.

All I know is that whenever such a sound is heard, I feel the urge to cry.

"temple."

He whispered in his heart, dipped his pen in ink, and wrote stroke by stroke.

This time, he was not doing homework, but describing the calligraphy taught to him by the old scholar.

There are so many words with the same sound, but there is always one that is right.

Accompanied by the call, the writing of the word "dian" is appropriate to the scene.

When he finished the last stroke, he felt as if he was dreaming and in a daze.

In the confusion, a gust of wind seemed to be blowing outside Wutong Town, which was warm and welcoming, making the sleeping people, even the pigs, horses, cattle and sheep kept in the hay shed, look comfortable.

The same wind, the two realms of immortals and gods under the vast universe, also have a period of time.
Chapter completed!