By noon, the sky had darkened, and the dark clouds in the distance had chased the frightened sparrows in the sky towards Fesdena, blocking the way where the sun shone on Fesdena. The weather gradually became more muggy, and from time to time there was a muffled thunder from the sky, interspersed through the thick dark clouds, and went straight to Fesdna, as if to swallow up the whole of Fested.

Old Danny lay quietly on the bed. A muffled thunder in the air woke up old Danny from his slumber. Old Danny rubbed his sleepy eyes, yawned, and stretched to sit down on the bed.

After a pause, old Danny noticed the sound of chopping wood coming from outside the door, so he slowly put on the coarse cloth coat placed next to the bed and walked slowly towards the door.

Old Danny stopped at the door of the house, and saw Witt holding the logging axe in both hands, and with great difficulty lifting the axe above his head, then "drinking", his arms and waist matched, and the axe made an arc in the air, and then cut the wood on the wooden platform in half. Although the two halves of the wood cut out are not symmetrical, they can barely be ignited.

Witt was soaking wet, his face was red, and his forehead was covered with large beads of sweat that continued to flow downward, dripping on the ground and mixing with the dust.

Witt didn't notice that Old Danny, who was watching at the door, leaned over and picked up the fallen firewood and put it on the wooden platform, lifted the wood and split it in two, looking crisp and neat.

Old Danny looked at the teenage boy in front of him from the side, as if he saw his own son thirty years ago, and he slowly learned the skill of chopping wood under the teaching of his father. But the young man in front of him seemed to be more perceptive, and after only saying it once, Witt slowly learned to control the cooperation of various parts of his body in the process of chopping wood. I have to say that this should be considered a talent!

"Hey! Brat! It's almost a day of chopping, and you've finished the ten bundles of firewood you said? Old Danny knew that it would take him at least three days to change ten bundles of firewood, not to mention little Witt, who had just learned a little fur.

Witt's face flushed, and he was speechless for a while, as if it was like a clogged pot of boiling water, just about to explode the moment.

"I ...... I'm almost done chopping two bundles, and I'm still a little bit close. Witt was afraid that old Danny would not give the axe himself, and he replied hesitantly. Then he felt that something was inappropriate, and hurriedly added: "But don't worry, I will definitely bring you ten bundles of firewood as agreed!" As he spoke, Witt was full of confidence, his eyes were blazing, as if he had put an invisible layer of pressure on the other party, and it was difficult to refuse.

Old Danny had no intention of refusing, but the young man in front of him made him more and more curious.

"Okay, I'll let you take the axe, you hurry up and finish chopping this bundle of firewood, put it in a sack and carry it home, old Witt is still waiting for you to go back!" Old Danny feigned impatience and told Witt to hurry away.

Witt wanted to give the dinar in his pocket to old Danny, but the other party had already walked into the house and disappeared, so he had to give up, silently put the dinar back in his pocket, lifted the axe and disposed of the few remaining firewoods and put them into a sack, and tied them together with a bag of twine and firewood.

Witt rubbed the bundle of firewood on his back, and when he was ready, he saw that the axe, which had its blade sunk into the wooden platform, had not yet been brought up. Witt put the heavy bundle of firewood on his back to the ground, grabbed the axe with both hands and pulled it off with great force.

Seeing that the small intermittent gaps in the blade were faintly visible, Witt had been focusing on the firewood all day today, but had not noticed the notch in the axe. This axe should have been used for a long time, and it has not been used for a long time.

Looking around, Witt saw an old but familiar whetstone leaning against the outer wall next to the door. When Witt was at home, he could often see his mother sharpening kitchen knives with a whetstone, which should be the same for sharpening axes.

Witt called out to Old Danny, but when there was no response, he placed the whetstone on the wooden platform, scooped a little water from the bucket next to it, and sprinkled it on the whetstone to stain and wet it.

Witt thought about his mother's gesture as she sharpened her knife as she pressed the blade of his axe against the whetstone and rubbed it back and forth, making a "hiss" screeching grinding sound. The water on the whetstone quickly warmed up and dried due to friction, and Wittur sprinkled some more water to wet it and continued to sharpen the blade.

By the time the axe was sharpened and hot, it was already past mid-afternoon, and the dark clouds had completely enveloped the entire sky over Fesdena under the impetus of the wind, and Fesdena began to blow a gloomy wind.

Witt knew that the storm was coming, so he hurriedly wrapped the blade in coarse cloth, stuffed the axe into the bundle of firewood, and hurried anxiously and slowly towards the other end of the house.

Witt walked along the path, and the wind blew up the dust on Fesd's dirt road, separating Witt's vision from afar. From time to time, the sand and dust flew into Witt's eyes, and it was so uncomfortable that Wittur burst into tears, so he had to cover his eyes with his hands as he walked, leaving only his fingers to peep.

Most of the pedestrians on the street have long since dispersed, and most of the remaining children are curious and mischievous children chasing and frolicking in the street.

Suddenly, a drop of cold water fell on Witt's forehead, and then rolled to the ground. Witt looked up and saw more and more raindrops coming in his direction, and he couldn't help but quicken his pace, looking even more anxious. Fortunately, I had an extra eye just now and put a sack on top of the firewood bundle, otherwise the firewood would definitely be wet and not catch fire.

The rain became heavier and heavier, and the rain suppressed the dust that had rolled up, but once again "wet" Witt's already soaked clothes. There was no one on the road, and the figure could be seen hanging in the air on the gallows in the distance.

"With such a big storm, she should be gone, right? It would be stupid to kneel there in such a heavy rain, and it might be cold and fever......" Witt muttered as he approached the gallows.

In those days, there was no medicine to cure a cold and fever, and some people may die because of a cold and fever, and there are also people who have a cold and fever but are in a trance. All in all, colds and fevers were a disease that should not be underestimated in those days.

Witt's eyes widened and he approached to make sure again that the girl wasn't gone! That girl really didn't go! The rain soaked her all over, and the cool breeze blew on the girl, causing her to stagger like a hanging wooden plaque, threatening to fall down at any moment.

Witt, carrying a heavy bundle of firewood on his back, trotted forward, shouting, "Go! With such heavy rain, if you get sick, you'll die! Let's go! ”

The girl seemed to see someone talking to her in the distance, but she no longer had the strength to look up, she had been immersed in the rain for almost an hour, her hands and feet were cold, she could no longer support her heavy eyelids, the world began to shake, and then it became dark and dull.

......