Chapter 2870: The blacksmith of fishing village life

Chapter 2871 the life of a fishing village blacksmith

Wuqinghai Port is an important port in front of the "Liancheng", connecting a vast sea area.

In addition to the steel-shrouded city, there is also a fishing village near the port. About thousands of fishermen have lived here for generations. When it was prosperous, there were tens of thousands of fishermen living here. However, as time moves, young people have entered the city, and fishermen have also Fewer and fewer.

In an unremarkable place in the fishing village, there is a blacksmith shop.

The blacksmith shop was opened by a young man from outside the city four years ago. These days—there is also a blacksmith. It is estimated that his head has been hammered. This is the first thing that many people think of.

Jingle bells!

Jingle bells!

A shirtless middle-aged man with bronze-colored skin was busy working in the blacksmith's shop. The blacksmith's shop was 30 square meters. The front is the blacksmith's shop and the back is where he lives.

A huge stove was placed in the iron shop, and a bellows hung beside it. The flames in the hearth rose high, illuminating the simple and narrow room, and there was a thick layer of white snow on the ground outside the door and cold wind. The harshness was hunting, and it was in stark contrast to the warmth in the house.

The shirtless middle-aged man held iron tongs in his left hand, clamped a piece of black round iron and placed it on the iron pier, pulling and handing it, turning it over.

In his right hand, he held a pitch-black hammer, and every time his arm was twisted into a circle, he tried his best to beat it **** the red iron block.

"Uncle, uncle..." A childish voice suddenly heard outside.

The hammer in the blacksmith's hand stopped and looked up, and saw a small figure staggering in the white snow outside, and then staggered under his feet and fell straight into the snow. His face was flushed with cold when he was buried in the snow.

This is a little boy about four or five years old.

"Black egg." The blacksmith looked up and laughed.

"Uncle Zhuo, my dad asked me to come to you and let you go to my house for dinner." The black egg quickly got up again, perhaps because the family was poor and didn't have the squeamishness of other children, grinning with a row of white teeth.

Zhuo Bufan nodded, "Okay, I will clean up this iron lump when I come back."

After changing into slightly clean clothes, when Zhuo Bufan came out of the room, he found that the black egg was squatting next to the fire. He moved his two little red hands close to the fire to let the flames warm him.

Seeing Zhuo Bufan changed his clothes, the black egg stood up, "It's not easy to go fishing in winter. Everyone is spending a lot of time at home. My mom cooked a lot of good food today, and my dad bought good wine."

Two figures, one tall and one short, walked out of the blacksmith's shop, their soles crunching on the thick snow.

"Come on, Uncle Zhuo hug you." Zhuo Bufan first held up the little boy, "Your kid often comes to see me to fight iron, or he will fight with me when he grows up."

"No, I don't want it." The black egg head shook like a rattle. "My goal is to be a martial artist. Being a martial artist can make a lot of money, and I can also kill monsters."

There are warriors sent by Dragon Soul to inspect the fishing village, but some monsters in the sea occasionally run into the fishing village, and people in the fishing village are often eaten by monsters.

"It's very fortunate to be a warrior, and it may cost my life." Zhuo Bufan smiled.

"I'm not afraid." The black egg said, clenching his fist.

"Good job." Zhuo Bufan praised.

This is a very ordinary house. Hei Dan’s father is Mu Yongsheng and his mother is Lu Yihong. Both of them have lived in a fishing village as childhood sweethearts. They grew up naturally and got married. Although their lives were a bit poorer, the two couples were born in harmony. Having a child, life is also very happy.

The black egg was born as Muxing, this name was still given by Zhuo Bufan.

Four years ago, Mu Yongsheng and Lu Yihong encountered a storm when they went fishing at sea. They happened to meet Zhuo Bufan and rescued the two. Later Zhuo Bufan also followed the two to live in this small fishing village and opened an iron shop.

Feel the mystery, not just nature.

There is also life, the vast starry sky, which is vaster than the starry sky is a human dream.

"Brother Zhuo, come and have a drink." Mu Yongsheng even poured a drink on Zhuo Bufan.

"Brother Zhuo, in winter, our fishing village doesn't have many vegetables. All we make are fish. Don't dislike it." Lu Yihong also followed.

"The fish made by my sister-in-law is second to none in our fishing village. How can I dislike it if I don't eat enough?" Zhuo Bufan laughed.

The two couples are also very grateful to Zhuo Bufan. Without Zhuo Bufan, the two would have been buried in the sea four years ago, and even the black eggs would have disappeared.

Zhuo Bufan is like a rough blacksmith, eating vegetables and drinking alcohol, chatting with Mu Yongsheng about the development of the fishing village, and talking about the fish in that sea area in the beginning of spring.

After eating and drinking, Zhuo Bufan returned to the forge.

The days passed slowly. Heidan would come to the blacksmith's shop every day after school, squatting next to watch Zhuo Bufan's iron work, and sometimes helping Zhuo Bufan pull the bellows so tired and sweating, he would have to watch for an hour at a time before he was willing to go home.

"Black egg, a sip of wine?" Zhuo Bufan rounded the hammer and beat the red iron.

"No, my dad knows, he's going to beat me." The black egg said, but picked up a wine gourd next to him, took a sip, and his face flushed with choking.

Zhuo Bufan laughed.

Ten years passed in a flash.

The business of the blacksmith shop is very cold, because now ironware is made with technology, the workmanship is exquisite and fast, his blacksmith shop only occasionally villagers come to hit a pair of harpoons and repair farm tools.

this day.

A man and a woman came from the fishing village, both of them dressed in luxurious clothes.

"The road at the entrance of the village is too bad, even a car can't get in." The woman frowned and complained.

"Don't complain, this time we have to draw the students into our school before the recruitment of the'Wulan School'," said a gentle man wearing gold glasses next to him.

Jingle bells!

Jingle bells!

Suddenly, the continuous sound of wrought iron came into the ears of the two of them, and the two looked at each other, and both saw the color of astonishment in each other's eyes.

Both of them are martial arts masters at the military commander level, and both are teachers of the'Tianfu Academy'. This time they came to this remote fishing village to recruit a student with excellent martial arts talents.

Two days after hearing the sound of iron hitting into my ears, I only felt that the whole body's qi and blood boiled uncontrollably.

"Roland, go and take a look." Mo Yang said.

"Go." The woman nodded.

The two followed the sound and walked into a ruined and rudimentary blacksmith's shop. The fire was burning. A blacksmith with bare arms was sweating. The hammer in Yuanyuan's hand kept beating a red iron block, the iron block. Flat and long, it looks like a knife.

The left hand tongs clamped the handle of the knife, and at the same time it turned and stretched continuously, and the hammer of the right hand smashed like a gust of wind and rain, causing the iron to continuously change to the shape he expected.

Ding Ding-Dang Dang-Ding Ding Dang.

The rhythm of the beating has a wonderful rhythm that ordinary people can't hear it naturally, but Roland and Mo Yang are two martial artists, so naturally I heard that the hammering point of the beating iron is extraordinary.

"Just a middle-aged blacksmith?"

"There is no vitality fluctuation on the body, not a warrior?"

Roland and Mo Yang looked at each other. Could it be that what they had just felt was an illusion.

"Uncle, where is the direction of Mu Xing's house?" Mo Yang still asked aloud.

Iron-beating Zhuo Bufan stopped his work, and the tongs clamped the gradually formed iron block into the iron bucket with water beside it, snorted and misted, which was quenching.

"Mu Xing that stinky boy? He walked straight ahead and saw a two-story flat building is his house." Zhuo Bufan picked up the wine gourd next to him and took a drink.

"Thank you, uncle." Mo Yang and Roland left.