There are newcomers in Baoji Village!

The mother-in-law and daughter-in-law have recently had a lot of after-dinner conversations. At present, the remnants of the Yellow Turban Army, thieves in Montenegro are everywhere, and there are soldiers everywhere, and hunger is everywhere. Baoji Village can be regarded as a paradise in troubled times. The strong men who take turns to go up the corner tower in the village, the guards around them at all times, the gate of the village that closes on time, and the farmland range is not more than five miles, all reflect what it means to "plough with a lotus halberd".

It's not a big deal to have a new person. The key is that this young man is dressed strangely, neither left nor right, opening and closing along the middle line, this kind of strange clothes, extremely complex sewing techniques, and special materials make Granny Liu, who has been recognized as a "master" of tailoring in the village who has been a female celebrity all her life, open her eyes and sigh to herself.

"Look at his skin, it looks like the big girl is white, delicate, there are no calluses on his hands, I don't know where it is, but he certainly hasn't done farm work. Even the children of the family do not have such a thing. Zhang, who lives in the east of the village, spoke first.

"With such short hair, it's like a novice, but the clothes are not like it, and it's different from the Hu people outside the Saiwai. They are all dressed in left hair, and they don't wear such clothes. The Zhao family in the west of the village also showed a very approving look.

"I don't know where the accent is, it sounds like a real one! How do I feel a little Liaodong Xianbei feeling. Zhao's daughter-in-law interjected, and then was glared at by her mother-in-law and shrank up in a daze.

At this time, Zhao Hong, the protagonist of the conversation, didn't know that he had become the focus of attention, and was eating breakfast at Wang Laohan's house. Except for Zhong Ming Ding Food House, most people in this era have not yet had the habit of eating lunch, and it is more likely out of the habit of saving food. If Zhao Hong doesn't eat enough in the morning, he may not be able to last until the sun goes down for dinner.

The farmer he met in the field was Wang Laohan. Under the sponsorship of Wang Laohan, Zhao Hong relied on the two scarce skills of literacy and proficient arithmetic, and was finally accepted by Baoji Village, and he was able to eat a mouthful. Zhao Hong was mainly a scribe who carried out statistical calculations in the village, similar to the bookkeeper in later generations. In this era, the income of the scribes was not low, and Zhao Hong not only handed over the food expenses to Wang Laohan on time, but also stored the rest in a clay pot as savings.

After a period of running-in, Zhao Hong's simple understanding of the Han Dynasty's Yayan has basically been unhindered. Now Zhao Hong eats and lives at Uncle Ma's house, and mingles with Wang Laohan's family of four. There are good Samaritans in every era! Zhao Hong sighed and dragged the chair under his buttocks. Fortunately, Wang Laohan took Zhao Hong in and found a job for him, otherwise he would have to live on the streets as a beggar, but in this turbulent era, it seems that it is not easy to be a beggar in all walks of life.

Wang Laohan also gave Zhao Hong an empty thatched house, and every night Zhao Hong slept on a clay kang paved with straw, always feeling very uncomfortable. Therefore, Zhao Hong, who sleeps here, often suffers from insomnia and misses Simmons at home. Seeing Wang Laohan's family sleeping so soundly on the straw-paved earthen kang, Zhao Hong sighed that he really confirmed the sentence "once the sea was difficult to water". Missing Simmons in his previous life, Zhao Hong thought of his parents who would say goodbye to heaven and man. After this period of time, but when he came to this era, Zhao Hong felt that he missed his parents very much, and the voices and smiles of his parents appeared in front of him. Although Zhao Hong used to feel that his parents were always urging him to study, which was quite annoying, he only felt it when he was wandering outside, and he really didn't know how to be blessed before. Every time he thought of this, Zhao Hong felt that the corners of his eyes were a little moist, and he often thought about it, so he fell asleep unconsciously.

Wang Laohan and his mother-in-law originally had seven or eight children, but unfortunately most of them returned to God's arms early before they became adults. The boss is famous, the poor are not respected, and naturally there is no expression. Although he has reached the age of marriage, he is still a bachelor because of his poor family. The second son, Wang Ming, is also sixteen this year. Zhao Hong still clearly remembers the deep regretful affection that Wang Laohan felt every time he mentioned this the night before, "Keming Junde, there are still many sentences I have prepared, and the twentieth name has been thought of, but unfortunately there are still two words in this first sentence that are not used." ”

After coming into contact with Wang Laohan, Zhao Hong already had a general understanding of his cultural level. An illiterate farmer can even understand the Book of Shang? It is estimated that I don't even know what the "Analects" is, let alone the difficult and difficult "Book of Shang". I don't know where the knife catcher invited by Wang Laohan is now, as long as he is literate in this era, he can be regarded as a talent. Zhao Hong thought of this, and a look of loss flashed in his eyes.

About to start today's work, Zhao Hong hurriedly finished picking up the food in the pottery bowl. Then he left Wang Laohan's house, and turned a corner along the alley to the northeast. Today's task is to count the grain inventory of the pavilion chief's house in the stockade. The farm work was idle, and the two sons of the poor Uncle Ma also worked as part-time workers in the Qin family. Coincidentally, today it was the boss's turn to hand over the building and stand guard, so only Wang Ming also went to the Qin family's granary as a porter. The two of them walked in tandem along the way.

It is obvious that the people's livelihood in Baoji Village is withering, most of them are thatched houses, and there are very few earthen embryo houses. Although it was the agricultural season, most of the people were not idle, and many strong men went to dig canals by the river in the south.

Holding a brush to sketch on the account book made of bamboo slips, Zhao Hong, who had been calculating all morning, felt a little sleepy, after all, it was quite brain-consuming to do statistics. Paper was widely used, but the war led to the disconnection of trade routes. The barren Baoji Village was not so luxurious for a while, and bamboo slips were still the main storage tools for writing instruments. Zhao Hong counted the grain of the Qin family, and sacks of grain were all over the warehouse. Qin Jin, the head of the Qin family, is both the pavilion chief and the largest landlord in Baoji Village, is the Qin family using his position to use his power for personal gain? Zhao Hong didn't think about this problem, and even if he thought about it, he didn't dare to say it. It has been more than ten days since I arrived in Baoji Village, and what happened during this time was too unbelievable, leaning on a tall elm tree in the yard, Zhao Hong began to recall what happened during this time:

I really want to thank Uncle Ma for having a hard-won stable job. Zhao Hong paced forward with broken steps as he thought.

This era is not like Zhao Hong's previous life, and even graduating with a master's degree means being employed, not to mention a third-rate student like Zhao Hong who did not graduate from high school. After all, this era is not as amazing as the literacy rate of later generations. The low productivity is not enough to support a large number of people who are out of work, and most of them are illiterate throughout their lives, and literacy is mainly concentrated in the children of the family. As for the Confucianism who is proficient in the classics, it is not something that ordinary landlord families can support.

Although Zhao Hong accepted the new simplified Chinese characters of communism in quality education in his previous life, Zhao Hong actually knew a lot of traditional Chinese characters in the old society. Zhao Hong feels that the interpretation of many words in classical Chinese can actually be intuitively understood from the structure of traditional Chinese characters, and classical Chinese and traditional Chinese characters are actually two sides of the same coin.

Zhao Hong, who was immersed in the fantasy of oracle bone inscriptions, unconsciously waved his brush, and used his mind to sketch the dream of evolution in the air. Suddenly, Zhao Hong felt that his back was pushed heavily, and he suddenly brought Zhao Hong back to the real Baoji Village from the dream, and almost stumbled. When I turned my head, it turned out to be Wang Ming.

"Brother Hong, what are you thinking?" Wang Ming, who was panting, had just carried a sack of grain to the granary. Although Wang Ming is not as tall as Zhao Hong, who was nourished by New China, he is far stronger than Zhao Hong. The dark skin, the high and bulging pectoral muscles, the arm muscles like a small mountain bag, and the tendons and flesh of the body are like the gymnasts of later generations, and the whole body is full of pimples.

"It's nothing, I was calculating for a while just now, and I was a little tired, so I lost my mind for a while." Zhao Hong pointed to the small wooden sticks scattered on the side with a brush to calculate the chips, and on the sand on the side, four mixed operations composed of Arabic numerals were impressively listed. In fact, Zhao Hong doesn't know how to use this thing at all, that is, he uses it to make appearances.

"Brother Hong, you calculated so fast!" Wang Ming took a ragged linen cloth and wiped the sweat from his head as he approached. "In the past, the arithmetic masters invited from Zhending City had to fiddle with those small wooden sticks for more than half an hour, and your kung fu will be fruitful in a few breaths, and it is very accurate."

I came through time, can the accumulation of more than 2,000 years be powerful? Zhao Hong secretly slandered himself. This can't help but remind Zhao Hong of the information he saw in his previous life:

Just like pi, one of the founders of ancient Chinese mathematical theory, Liu Hui, a mathematician who sat on the annotation for the "Nine Chapters of Arithmetic", invented the circumference of the circle to measure the circumference of the circle, and calculated that the pi was 3.14, while another mad demon ancestor Chongzhi is said to have cut the circle into N megagons and finally calculated seven decimal places. In fact, both of them were stuck in a dead end, they felt that the circle could not be measured directly, so they had to cut it into polygons and measure it with a ruler. At least Zhao Hong thinks that calculating pi is very easy, just like buying clothes to measure waist circumference in his previous life, he directly takes a soft ruler and circles the wheel, and looks at the scale of the soft ruler to get the approximate length of the circumference. In the final analysis, it is to change the ruler, and there seems to be no technical problem in making a soft ruler in the Eastern Han Dynasty, which can already weave cloth. Although the polygon cutting approximation can also get similar results, not to mention the waste of manpower and material resources, it is definitely an astronomical amount. In the history textbook of the middle school in the previous life, he also boasted that the circumcision method was "leading the world", demonstrating the wisdom of the Chinese people, not to mention the prototype of calculus。。。。。 However, at this time, the sixth year of Zhongping was still decades away from Liu Hui's birth, and Zhao Hong did not remember where the founder was from.

"Brother Hong, I still have some fried chestnut rice here, do you want to have some first." Wang Ming said as he took off a small cloth bag of fried chestnut rice tied to his waist. High-yield crops such as corn and sweet potatoes are still in the Americas thousands of miles away at this time, and coarse grains such as yellow noodles and sweet potato noodles in later generations have not appeared at all.

Now Zhao Hong has gotten rid of the problem of picky eating, grabbed a handful of millet and chewed it, because he was hungry and ate too much, the back of his tongue was like a stone, and Zhao Hong, who was choking, was almost suffocating.

The blow to the back was so hard that it almost spewed out my lungs. It turned out that Wang Ming saw that Zhao Hong was choked, and hurriedly clenched his fists and swung them at a high frequency, and then took out a gourd from his body, opened the lid, and hurriedly poured a few mouthfuls of cold water into Zhao Hong's mouth.

"I didn't choke to death, but I was almost beaten to death by you." Zhao Hong, who took a breath, gently patted his chest and said angrily.

"Brother Hong, you're joking. I didn't watch you feel uncomfortable and anxious, so I started a little harder. Wang Ming, who had an innocent expression on his face, immediately smiled harmlessly.

"You two are only a little older, and you are standing in the shade to rest again. If this continues, the salary will be halved! The overtones that sounded like a yellow oriole came from behind, and the two turned their heads to look at it, and they were stunned for a moment.