Baijia Village, Sun's small courtyard.

"Qing Chu, knead the noodles." Sun Sanniang commanded.

Her voice was soft, but not the kind of clip sound that is popular on Earth.

Sanniang has a characteristic of speaking, that is, the last few words of each sentence will be on the soft side, giving people a sense of weakness.

"Okay, are you still making buns today?" Mo Qingchu asked as he skillfully began to knead the dough.

Sanniang nodded and said, "When the meeting is ready, send some to the village chief and Lao Li Touna." ”

"Can I not give it to Uncle Li?" Mo Qingchu quipped.

Uncle Li is a blacksmith, Mo Qingchu helps people in Baijia Village, and the most tiring thing is to go to Uncle Li's.

Lao Li Tou has a short temper, and Mo Qingchu is young and stubborn, and he can't stand the excitement.

The sentence "Are you weak and weak" can make Mo Qingchu silently recite "I am a macho man" three times in his heart, and then frantically hammer it.

Therefore, he was very worried that when he gave Uncle Li steamed buns, he would be forcibly left.

"Stupid, can't you send it to Lao Li Tou first, and then tell him that you still have to go to the village chief's house?" Sun Sanniang glanced at Mo Qingchu with a smile.

Her eyes are standard peach blossom eyes, and her smile is charming.

Mo Qingchu sometimes wonders why this kind of wilderness village woman from an ordinary small village has white skin and a unique temperament.

Maybe this is the so-called natural stunner.

"That's what I actually thought." He continued to knead the dough and said to Sun Sanniang.

Rather than going to Uncle Li's to strike iron, he would rather go to the village chief's house to listen to the story.

After Mo Qingchu crossed over to this strange world four years ago, he almost stayed in Baijia Village.

Most of his understanding of the outside world comes from the description of the old man of the village chief.

The village chief is the most literate person in the whole village, and I heard that he used to be a storyteller.

To be honest, this world is very dangerous, but Mo Qingchu has great curiosity about the outside world.

The reason is simple, how did he die on Earth in his last life?

This super-rich second generation, who is rich and free, hung up when he was doing extreme sports.

Well, to die.

……..

……..

Fifteen minutes passed, and fine beads of sweat began to appear on Mo Qingchu's forehead and the tip of his nose.

Sanniang has a unique set of kneading techniques, and the kneading noodles will be particularly good, and Mo Qingchu also learned this technique.

But for some reason, the whole process will be more strenuous.

Sun Sanniang glanced at him, wiped his sweat, and said, "It's still not right for you to do this." ”

As she spoke, she rolled up her sleeves, revealing a tender white arm, and demonstrated it to Mo Qingchu again.

He watched and studied very seriously on the side.

At the same time, I couldn't help but sigh in my heart: "Aunt Sun's hands are really good-looking." ”

It would be better if there were no calluses left behind by work.

Every elder in the village seems to have their own skills.

Just like Uncle Li, the blacksmith, he also has his own unique way of striking iron.

In this regard, Mo Qingchu also understands very well. In such a world, if people don't even have a skill, it may be really difficult to live.

And in the past four years, he has learned a lot of skills from them.

It's just that they all understand a little, and they know a little bit about everything, but they are not proficient in everything.

After the buns were ready, Sun Sanniang also asked, "Is there still vinegar at home?" ”

Mo Qingchu is not jealous, but Mo Shuli likes to dip in vinegar when eating steamed buns.

"Something else." He replied.

"Well, go ahead, get to Lao Li Tou, help me get a pair of scissors." Sanniang said.

"Okay." The errand runner Mo has taken the order.

Out of the door, Mo Qingchu walked briskly.

Along the way, he kept greeting the villagers he met.

Everyone's smiles were kind and friendly, but because Mo Qingchu had a problem with his eyes, they all turned into a group of demons and monsters smiling at him.

Like Pomber, who was fetching water from a well, half of his face was covered with pitch-black scales, and when he laughed, the scales would all open.

In addition, his own eyes are slightly convex and his eyeballs are huge, making his whole head look like a fish head that is very suitable for making soup.

Mo Qingchu, who has long been accustomed to all this, has understood a truth in the past four years: to feel the world, you must use your heart, not your eyes. Even the so-called vision has great limitations.

It's like Nietzsche's words: "Our eyes are prisons, and as far as our eyes can see, there are walls." ”

The home of the blacksmith Uncle Li is not far from the well in the village.

Mo Qingchu heard the sound of striking iron from a long distance.

Uncle Li is the most capable person in the whole village, and his figure is very much in line with a recent popular body stalk - double-door refrigerator.

Tall and muscular, with extremely broad shoulders.

"This kind of figure and sense of strength, in fact, is not a big deal, and punching me is not to ask me not to die." Mo Qingchu, who was in a good mood, thought about the rotten stalk in his heart.

"Uncle Li! I'm here to deliver the buns. Mo Qingchu said loudly: "Aunt Sun asked me to change the scissors, and I will go to the village chief's grandfather to deliver the buns after I take them." ”

The sound of striking iron stopped abruptly, and Uncle Li, the shirtless blacksmith, raised his eyes to look at him.

In Mo Qingchu's eyes, in addition to his face, Uncle Li's upper body was full of black lines. Every time he struck the iron and hammered hard, the black lines would swell a few points.

And his ten fingers and nails are all black.

Who would have thought that the power king in the village, in Mo Qingchu's eyes, was a nail man.

Of course, if that's the case, it's not so evil.

Uncle Li's biggest problem is that there is a mouth full of fangs on his chest.

Every time the irascible old Li gets angry at Mo Qingchu, his fangs will inexplicably grow a little longer, giving people a sense of bloodthirstiness.

"I'll get the scissors myself." Uncle Li doesn't talk much on weekdays, only when he is irritable and scolding, he can't stop, and he can scold half a pillar of incense.

"Okay." As soon as Mo Qingchu was about to go inside, he was stopped by Uncle Li again.

"Take that scythe to the village chief again." He commanded.

- The errand runner Xiao Mo received a new tailwind order.

"Wow, it's so heavy." Mo Qingchu picked up the scythe and felt that its weight was a little wrong.

"The village chief's grandfather has a handful of old bones, and he used to be a storyteller who was powerless, is this scythe suitable for him?" He muttered to himself.

But Mo Qingchu didn't say much, because he knew that with Uncle Li's temperament, even if he asked, the other party would be too lazy to answer and remain silent.

Therefore, he chose to take this heavy and outrageous scythe and set off directly.

The village chief's grandfather's home is located in the middle of Baijia Village.

His home is not the largest in the village, but for Mo Qingchu, it is the most mysterious.

Because there is a small courtyard at the back of the village chief's house, no one is allowed to enter or leave.

And as the head of a village, Mo Qingchu felt that the old man had a bit of a secret on him, which was normal.

As a former storyteller, maybe there are some forbidden books hidden?

Outside the door, Mo Qingchu knocked on the door and shouted "Grandpa the village chief".

It took a while for the door to open.

The old village chief was too old and had inconvenient legs and feet, so he had to walk slowly with a cane.

After the wooden door was pushed open, the first thing that caught Mo Qingchu's eyes was a face with no facial features.

Yes, in his eyes, the old man of the village chief is a faceless man with no facial features.

But the village chief that he made up in his brain is the image of an old Confucian in film and television dramas.

"Little Mo is here." A smile could be heard in the village chief's words, but Mo Qingchu couldn't see all this on his face.

The village chief's voice was low and gentle, and he was always unhurried in his words and actions.

"Grandpa the village chief, Aunt Sun asked me to bring some steamed buns, oh yes, and the sickle that Uncle Li asked me to bring." Mo Qingchu said.

"I'm tired, come in and have a drink." The village chief said.

"Okay. Grandpa the village chief, the buns are still raw, do you want me to help you steam them? Mo Qingchu asked.

"It's okay, I'll come myself later." The old man said with a smile.

After taking a seat at the wooden table, the old man turned his head to look at Mo Qingchu.

Mo Qingchu looked at the faceless old man, roughly analyzing the location of his eyes, and then pretending to be looking at each other to show that he was listening to him carefully.

Unexpectedly, the next sentence of the village chief's grandfather made him directly unable to help but open his eyes and his heart beat faster.

"Xiao Mo, in a few days, the cultivators will come to our Baijia Village."