The old craftsman walked out of the hut halfway up the mountain.
The blackened little finger holds a wine flask.
empty.
Going down the mountain alone.
The sky is dark and bright.
In June, on the West Bank of Butterfly, the air before dawn was wet and cold.
The old craftsman tightened the narrow-sleeved linen garment.
Wearing this rough linen clothes, it was hot in the sword furnace room, but cold again after leaving the sword furnace room.
I feel this way every day when I walk out of the hut and go down the mountain.
This gave him the feeling that he was like a sword, which had just been taken out red from the stove and then thrown into the cold stream with a bang, being tempered by the cold and heat.
The old craftsman likes this temperature difference.
Even though he is very old and rickety.
But older people become more tolerant of cold and heat.
Like a piece of iron that has been tempered over time.
But this is not the reason why Old Craftsman leaves the sword furnace and walks down the mountain every day.
The old craftsman carried an empty wine flask with his little finger and walked all the way down the mountain.
On the way, an acquaintance who got up early occasionally said hello:
"Hey, Lao Wutou."
Everyone called him that.
Because someone once curiously asked the old craftsman his name, he always answered "Wu Ming". If the surname is not Wu, what is the surname?
As time passed, everyone started calling him Lao Wutou.
In fact, few people in the entire Guyue Sword Shop knew how long the old Wutou had been at the sword shop.
Few people even knew what he was doing and were not interested in it.
But all the senior swordsmiths here know him.
Just like the old man walking downstairs, you don't know where he lives or what his identity is, but you just feel familiar, and then you get used to it, and then you're still a stranger.
This is how the old craftsman works in the eyes of everyone.
He is never seen day or night.
Every morning, at the second quarter of the twelfth lunar month, I walked down the mountain from the sword furnace room on the mountain that had been out of flames for many years, and went to the market in the sword shop to buy wine.
It is like this day by day, month by month, year by year.
In the eyes of everyone, he was an old craftsman with a withdrawn temperament and a bad temper.
Why do people say that this ‘Old Wu Tou’ is made by a craftsman?
Needless to say?
The ancient Yue sword shop has its own division of labor and does not support idlers. There are also three, six or nine levels of craftsmen: craftsmen, swordsmiths, swordsmiths, famous craftsmen...
The hierarchy is strict and strict, and it all depends on your ability.
Forging swords for the nobles of Luoyang is a skill that cannot be faked.
Craftsmen are the lowest level of craftsmen and can only produce works that lack characteristics and have no spirituality.
There is another hidden rule in Guyue Sword Shop.
The closer the sword furnace room it belongs to is to Butterfly Creek, the higher the status of the craftsman.
The sword furnace room guarded by an old craftsman is located on a remote mountainside. It has been out of service for many years and is obviously half-abandoned. If it is not made by a craftsman, what is it?
Moreover, after keeping the furnace for many years, this sword furnace has indeed never forged a single sword.
so……
A craftsman's work is indeed a craftsman's work.
Old Craftsman Zuo, who went down the mountain again to fetch wine, admitted in his heart.
Today, someone called him jokingly on the street again:
"Old Wu, are you going to get a drink with the little girl again?"
The old craftsman ignored him, as if he didn't hear him and ignored him as he passed by.
He ignored anyone who spoke.
If he encounters someone who is blocking the way, Lao Jiangzuo will frown and wave quickly without even looking at him, and drive him away with a look of disgust.
Old Jiangzuo didn't want to make any sound.
I also hope that others will see this and recognize it to bother him.
This is not because he is mute, but because he is in a very bad mood every morning:
The old craftsman stayed up all night.
His routine is upside down.
Staying up at night, sleeping during the day and busy at night.
So every morning, the old craftsman was in a state of exhaustion after a hard night's work.
In this state of staying up late.
He hated the noise when everything came to life in the morning, hated the dazzling sunshine that was rising, and even hated anyone who got up early and was full of energy to talk to him.
Lao Jiangzuo just wants to be autistic.
No one should fucking bother him.
Lao Jiangzuo walked into a morning market at the foot of the mountain on time again.
This morning market is not a market in the strict sense.
Instead, some of the female workers working in the sword shops and the families of the craftsmen gathered together to open some open-air breakfast shops.
They make some breakfast and provide it to the large number of low-level craftsmen who get up early in the morning to work.
Because craftsmen are not allowed to go out at will, they need to apply to go out, and outsiders who are not from Guyue Sword Shop cannot enter the West Bank Sword Shop at will to buy and sell.
And only the famous craftsmen, swordsmiths and other high-level craftsmen have three meals a day provided by the Liu family. The other low-level craftsmen are paid their own wages, but the food in the canteen run by the sword shop is too expensive.
And many craftsmen are singles, so how can they buy and cook their own food?
As a result, this type of breakfast shop, opened by hard-working female workers who brought breakfast from outside every day, came into being.
The Liu family also turned a blind eye to this.
Old Jiangzuo was in a good mood because few people disturbed him all the way down the mountain today.
Everyone seemed to know that he had a bad temper, and most of them ignored him.
Lao Jiangzuo likes this feeling of being alone and quiet in the busy city.
It's like an ice-like sword stuck in a blazing furnace.
He walked to the familiar breakfast shop again and found the familiar seat in the back.
As soon as she sat down, without even saying a word, there was a little girl in a sarong with the word "Yue" engraved on her forehead and big, smart eyes. She put down her work, jumped off the stool, and ran to the kitchen to bring a pot of prepared wine.
, placed on the table made by the old craftsman.
The old craftsman stared at the greasy and dirty black table, without looking at the little girl in a sarong next to him. He silently placed the empty wine bottle he had brought on the table, then took out eight copper plates from his arms, and one
Line up the words.
The little girl in a sarong stood on tiptoes, put her little hands to the edge of the table, and carefully gathered eight copper plates into the palm of her hand.
She collected the wine money, left the full wine jug, and picked up the empty wine jug.
Leave without looking back.
Not a word was said, and the two of them didn't even make eye contact.
One old and one young, this set of procedures has a tacit understanding.
The other female workers and guests in the breakfast shop were not surprised by this, as they seemed to be used to the lonely old man.
The old craftsman opened the seal of the new wine bottle, put his nose to it and took a sniff.
Familiar taste.
He nodded happily.
This breakfast shop was opened by several skillful female workers who weaved sword braids. The leader was an older and more capable female braid worker, and the little braided braid worker with big spiritual eyes just now was one of them and the most recent one.
A quiet one.
There are few things to do, so don't bother him.
That's why Lao Jiangzuo chose her to go drink at an old liquor store in the county town.
Withdraw eight cents a day.
Five cents is enough to buy three taels of rice wine.
Two cents were paid for a plate of steamed rice cakes.
Give her a penny for running errands.
It's like this day after day.
Except for the last time he suffered from flooding and couldn't find anyone for a while, which made him very irritable in the mornings during those days.
This handsome-looking worker in a sarong has been carrying rice wine for him for almost two years.
And they never mentioned raising errand fees once.
But the old swordsmith, who was particularly impetuous every morning, felt that the most important thing was... being talkative and sensible.
The first time she helped him buy wine, she timidly said, "What was he talking about?"
It seems that her name is Qing...
forget.
The old craftsman was not interested at all.
Some days, from the corner of his eye, he saw young workers in sarongs being bullied by other older female workers, taking away money, goods or fabrics. The old worker showed no reaction and continued to slowly eat what was called breakfast but was actually dinner.
He is old and has to chew slowly.
Old Jiangzuo felt that he didn't have much time, so he had to finish that matter quickly before he died. He had no time to meddle in such noisy matters.
In the breakfast shop, Old Jiangzuo sat on a seat in the back away from Chu Yang, took a sip of rice wine, and squinted his eyes as he waited for the breakfast from the chef.
There were still few guests at this time, and several female tassel workers, including the sarong tassel workers, took their time and sat on a row of stools on the right, lowering their heads to carefully weave sword tassels of various colors.
The old craftsman quietly observed their ingenious weaving skills.
These sword tassels are very beautiful, with various patterns that are very comfortable in his eyes, especially the strange arcs woven by some spiritual female tassel workers on a whim, which can sometimes bring a lot of inspiration to the old craftsmen.
The exquisite sword art is born from the hands of these ordinary and humble little female workers who are busy making a living.
But that's not surprising.
Just like who would have thought that the best swordsmanship in the world is actually in the hands of a small group of Wuyue nuns living in seclusion in Daze?
Old Jiangzuo suddenly remembered that someone once told him such a sentence.
Myths are born in the mortal world.
The old man tilted his head and tipped the pot. This sentence was worthy of him taking another sip of wine.
Old Craftsman is in a good mood.
But at this time, a group of swordsmen came to the breakfast table next door and took their seats while chatting. One of them turned around and told the proprietress a dirty joke, which naturally caused a burst of laughter and curses.
Very noisy.
The old craftsman put down the wine pot, his enthusiasm for drinking was waning.
And the hot topic that this group of noisy swordsmiths discussed next made the old swordsman feel even worse.
The old man silently put away the wine bottle and turned his head to look back at the east bank of Butterfly Creek in the direction of the county government office.
There is a new young county magistrate who wants to build a new waterway called Zheyi Canal in Longcheng to completely cut off the water of Butterfly Creek.
How to forge a sword without water?
It was the first time in his life that Old Craftsman had heard of such a decision that went against his ancestors.
To be honest, besides being angry, I'm also a little... happy.
Laughed angrily.
What kind of weird flower is this?
Here you go, keep your word. There will be two more updates tonight!