The Xu family had a piece of land passed down from their ancestors, and Captain Xu was a military household, so their life was considered quite good in the local area. The family had a small fortune, so they hired a maid to do chores like cooking and cleaning.

When it was getting light, the old cook of the Xu family slowly prepared breakfast and knocked on the door of Chang Geng's study: "Master, Madam wants to ask if you want to go to her room to eat."

Chang Geng was concentrating on copying calligraphy. Hearing this, he paused and replied as if it was normal: "No, she likes quietness, I won't disturb her. Please tell my mother that her son is here to say hello to her."

The old cook was not surprised by his reply. The daily questions and answers between mother and son were like routine, nothing new.

It's strange. Logically speaking, Captain Xu was just a stepfather, and Chang Geng and Xiuniang were the biological mother and son. However, this biological mother and son would only eat at the same table when Captain Xu was at home, and would visit each other every morning and evening, pretending to be loving, filial and happy. As soon as the male owner left, they became more unfamiliar than strangers, and no one paid any attention to each other. They lived in the same courtyard, but Chang Geng would not even go out of the main gate, and would run to the next door through the corner gate every day. The mother and son might not see each other for ten days or half a month.

Even when Chang Geng had a serious illness that nearly cost him his life a few years ago, Xiuniang just looked at him indifferently and didn't care whether her only son was dead or alive.

In the end, it was the Sixteenth Master who took the person away and took care of him personally.

The old cook always suspected that Chang Geng was not Xiuniang's son, but just looking at their appearance, the mother and son looked very similar, so they must be related by blood.

Moreover, if the child was not his biological child, why would a weak woman like Xiuniang, who was stranded in a foreign land and could not even protect herself, keep the child with her?

It doesn't make any sense at all.

After a while, the old cook brought a food box and said to Chang Geng, "The master will probably go back to the city today. Madam asked the young master to come back early."

Chang Geng understood what she meant. Now that Captain Xu was back, they had to pretend to be a loving mother and a filial son again, so he nodded and said, "Got it."

His eyes fell on the food box. Suddenly, Chang Geng saw a long hair stuck on the handle of the food box. He immediately retracted his outstretched hand.

The old cook's hair has turned white, so this long, soft, black hair certainly cannot be hers. Captain Xu has not returned yet, and there are three living people in the house, including the master and the servant. If it's not the cook's, then it must be Xiuniang's.

Chang Geng has a strange obsession with cleanliness—he only dislikes his own mother.

When they were next door, he would eat leftovers from the bowl used by his adoptive father, but once he got home, he would not touch anything that Xiuniang had touched.

The old cook knew his strange temper, so she carefully took off the hair and said with a smile, "Madam accidentally dropped it there. No one has touched this dessert since it came out of the pot. Don't worry."

Chang Geng smiled at her politely and said, "It's okay. I just happened to have some questions for Mr. Shen today. I'll go to my godfather's place for dinner later."

After saying this, he did not take the lunch box. Instead, he picked up the book on the table and tucked it under his arm, picked up the heavy sword hanging on the back door, and went out.

Mr. Shen was rolling up his sleeves, busy in the yard oiling several disassembled pieces of steel armor.

The steel armor was sent by the soldiers defending the city. The officers and soldiers of Yanhui also have their own "Long-Arm Division" that specializes in maintaining military steel armor. However, there are too many armors in the army and they are always too busy to handle them all, so they would also look for civilian Long-Arm Divisions to take on some odd jobs.

"Long-arm masters" are those who repair steel armor and lighters and deal with those iron things all day long. They are considered craftsmen, but in the eyes of ordinary people, long-arm masters are similar to those who beat dogs, trim pedicures and barbers, all of whom belong to the "lower nine classes". Even though they don't have to worry about food and drink by doing this job, it is not very glorious.

Mr. Shen was a scholar, but somehow he had this peculiar hobby. Not only did he like to tinker with it when he had nothing to do, he also often used this skill to earn a little money in an ungentlemanly way.

And Shen Shiliu, who had accidentally entered the young man's dream, was sitting on the doorstep with his long legs stretched out idly, leaning against the door frame as if he had no bones, with an empty medicine bowl next to him - he didn't even bother to wash it clean after drinking it.

Shiliu Lai stretched himself lazily, waved at Chang Geng half-deadly, and ordered, "Son, go get me the wine jug."

Mr. Shen's hands were covered in lighter fluid and he said to Chang Geng with sweat dripping down his back, "Don't pay attention to him. Have you eaten yet?"

Chang Geng: “Not yet.”

Mr. Shen turned around and roared at Sixteen, "You've been waiting for food since early in the morning! Can't you do something? Go wash some rice and cook some porridge!"

Shen Shiliu tilted his head, just deaf enough, and said slowly: "Ah? What?"

"Let me do it," Chang Geng said as if it was normal. "What rice do you want to put in?"

This time, Master Sixteen heard it. He raised his eyebrows and said to Mr. Shen, "Stop ordering the kid around. Why don't you go yourself?"

Mr. Shen, a gentleman, is always irritated by his bastard, loser brother: "Didn't we agree to take turns? Man, it's ok if you can't hear me, but why don't you keep talking?"

Shen Shiliu used the same trick again, and he couldn't hear it again, so he asked, "What is he barking about?"

Pretend to be real.

Chang Geng: “…”

Actually, being deaf is quite convenient.

"He said..." Chang Geng lowered his head and met Sixteen's teasing gaze. In an instant, the dream from the previous night flashed back to him, and he suddenly found that he was not so indifferent.

Chang Geng's throat suddenly felt dry, and he quickly calmed himself down and said expressionlessly, "You should just sit down, old man, and don't bother playing tricks so early in the morning."

Shen Shiliu hadn't had time to get drunk that day, and his only conscience had finally been soaked into wine dregs. He smiled and took Chang Geng's hand, using his strength to stand up, patted the back of the boy's head affectionately, and stumbled into the kitchen.

He was actually prepared to work - it was a once-in-a-century opportunity for the Sixteenth Master to be able to do something, which was extremely rare, like a blooming iron tree.

Chang Geng hurriedly followed him in, only to see his adoptive father casually grabbing a few handfuls of rice and throwing them into the pot, then scooping water to wash the rice, making the water splash and white waves fly. Then, he condescendingly stretched out two fingers, stirred them in the water casually, took them out and shook off the water droplets, and announced: "Half of the washing is done, Shen Yi, come over and take your turn."

Mr. Shen: “…”

Shen Shiliu picked up the wine jug from the stove, tilted his head back and took a sip, smoothly and accurately.

...Sometimes Chang Geng suspected that even his so-called "blindness" was just an act.

Mr. Shen was probably convinced and stopped struggling in vain. He washed his hands with soap nuts while cursing, ran into the kitchen, steamed some cakes, and began to clean up the mess left by Sixteen.

Chang Geng took out the calligraphy he had copied early in the morning and showed them to Mr. Shen one by one. After Shen Yi finished reading and commenting on them, Chang Geng stuffed the page of paper into the stove and helped to light the fire.

"Your calligraphy has improved a lot. You have put a lot of effort into it recently," Mr. Shen said. "I see you are copying the Changting Calligraphy by Gu Yun, Marquis of Anding?"

Chang Geng: "Yeah."

Sixteen, who was idle nearby, suddenly turned his head when he heard this, with a strange look on his face.

Mr. Shen did not raise his head. "At the age of fifteen, Marquis Anding led the army and became famous in one battle. At the age of seventeen, he was ordered to lead the army to the west. When he passed by the outside of Xiliang City, he saw the relics of the ancients. He was moved that the scenery of the previous dynasty remained the same, but the country had changed for a hundred years. He picked up a pen and wrote the "Changting Fu". He was originally going to write it and forget it, but unexpectedly, the flatterers around him secretly kept it and engraved it on the stone tablet. To be honest, Gu Yun's calligraphy was trained by the contemporary great scholar Mr. Mo Sen, and it is indeed worthy of praise. However, when he wrote the Changting Post, he was still young and successful at a young age. He was a little ignorant and not up to the mark. Since you are practicing calligraphy, why do you copy modern posts when you have so many ancient posts?"

Chang Geng rolled up the paper covered with words and stuffed it into the stove without hesitation: "I've heard that the three major black iron battalions, Black Eagle, Black Armor, and Black Cavalry, annihilated the eighteen tribes of the Northern Barbarians under the command of the old marquis. Later, when it came under the command of the young marquis, the fierce bandits in the Western Regions surrendered. I don't like his handwriting, but I just want to know what the handwriting left behind by the hand that controls the three major black iron battalions looks like."

Mr. Shen stirred the pot unconsciously with the spoon in his hand, but his eyes seemed to have drifted away. After a while, he slowly said, "The Marquis of Anding's surname is Gu, his given name is Yun, and his courtesy name is Zixi. He is the only son of the late emperor's eldest princess and the old marquis. His parents died young, and he was pitied by the current emperor, raised in the palace, and specially granted the title. He was born a rich and idle person, but he insisted on going to the Western Regions to eat sand. I don't know if he is a hero or not. I'm afraid his brain is not very good."

Mr. Shen was wearing an old gown that had been washed so much that it looked bleached. There were oil stains from his armor on the corners of his gown, and he had an unfortunate apron hanging around his neck - the two brothers lived together without a woman in the house, and each was more outrageous than the other. I wonder if the apron had not been washed since it was brought home, as the color was no longer visible and it looked out of place on his body.

Only the face had clear outlines.

Shen Yi had a high nose bridge, and when he wasn't laughing, his profile was almost cold and indifferent. His eyelids trembled slightly, and he suddenly said, "Since the old marquis passed away, the Black Iron Camp has been so successful that it has frightened the emperor, and the emperor is jealous of it. In addition, the court is full of flatterers who flatter the emperor..."

Sixteen, who had been silent all this time, suddenly interrupted him: "Shen Yi."

The two people by the stove looked at him together. Sixteen was staring at a small spider web on the door frame.

Sixteen's face turned pale as he drank, and all his emotions were hidden in his eyes, making them unclear.

He whispered, "Don't talk nonsense."

The Shen brothers are usually very disrespectful. The younger one does not respect the older brother, and the older brother spoils him like a monster. They quarrel from morning to night every day, but they have a very good relationship.

Chang Geng had never heard Sixteen speak in such a stiff tone.

He was sensitive by nature and didn't understand what was going on, so he frowned deeply.

Shen Yi's teeth clenched for a moment, realizing that Chang Geng was observing him. He suppressed his emotions and said with a smile, "I apologize for my words - but isn't slandering the court a side dish after dinner? I was just saying it casually."

Chang Geng noticed the awkward atmosphere, so he cleverly changed the subject and asked, "Who was in charge of the Black Iron Camp during the ten years between the Northern Expedition and the Western Expedition?"

"No one cared," Shen Yi said. "After the Northern Expedition, the Black Iron Camp fell silent for a while. Some left, some died. There were only a few old soldiers left in the army, and most of them were disheartened. More than a decade later, the elite soldiers of that time had long been replaced by a new generation, and the equipment had not been replaced for many years and had become aging. It was not until a few years ago when the Western Regions rebelled that the court had no other options, so it let Anding Hou take charge and restart the Black Iron Camp. Rather than saying that General Gu took over the Black Iron Camp, it would be better to say that he trained a new group of elite troops in the Western Regions. If you have the chance, you can learn his current calligraphy."

Chang Geng was stunned: "Could it be that Mr. Shen has seen the words written by Marquis Anding later?"

Shen Yi smiled and said, "Although they are rare, one or two paintings occasionally appear in the market, all claiming to be authentic. Anyway, I can't tell whether they are real or fake."

As he spoke, he blew white air and brought the food to the table. Chang Geng tactfully stepped forward to help. When he passed by Shen Shiliu with the porridge in his hand, the sickly boy reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

Chang Geng grew up earlier than the average teenager and was taller than his peers. Even though he was not full of flesh and bones, he was almost as tall as his little godfather. When he raised his head slightly, he saw Sixteen's eyes.

Sixteen actually had a pair of very typical peach blossom eyes, which could only be seen when his eyes were wandering around in a scattershot manner. Because when his gaze was focused, his pupils seemed to have a pair of abysses shrouded in mist, making them unclear and dark.

Chang Geng's heart trembled again. He lowered his voice and deliberately called him by a name that he rarely used: "Godfather, what's wrong?"

Sixteen said nonchalantly, "Little kid, don't always think about being a hero. What good end does a hero have? As long as you have enough food and clothes, and don't worry about waking up from sleep, that's the best life. Even if you are a little tight on money and idle, it doesn't matter."

Shen Shiliu often pretended to be deaf and dumb and rarely spoke a word, but when he did, he poured cold water on Chang Geng.

As a half-deaf and half-blind cripple, he naturally had no ambition and no spirit. But how could a young man listen to such depressing words of just getting by?

Chang Geng felt a little uncomfortable because he felt as if he was looked down upon by him. He thought unhappily, "If everyone lives a lazy life like you, who will support the family in the future? Who will take care of your food and clothing? It's really easy to talk without any pain in your waist."

He avoided Sixteen's hand and said perfunctorily: "Don't move, be careful of the hot porridge burning you."