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At three o'clock in the morning, it was still dark.

Chen Mo woke up before the clapper sounded.He didn't wake up naturally, but something deep in his body, like a tight string, pulled him out of his deep sleep at a fixed time.He opened his eyes, lay on the bunk, and listened carefully: the sounds of snoring, teeth grinding, and someone's vague murmurs in his sleep.The air was filled with a turbid smell mixed with the smell of sweat, musty and inferior grease.

He lay quietly for three breaths, waiting for the remaining sleepiness to completely fade away, then lifted the quilt and stood up quietly.His movements were very gentle, as if he was afraid of disturbing something.In fact, no one would be awakened - the handymen slept as if they were dead, their last breath of energy exhausted by the day's work.

He soaked a piece of coarse cloth with half a scoop of cold water that he had kept by the bedside the night before, and wiped it vigorously several times from his face to his neck, then to his chest and back.The cold water stirred up a layer of fine goosebumps on the skin, and the sleepiness and fatigue were briefly dispelled.After wiping, he used the faint light from the window paper to put on the starched coarse cloth jacket and trousers in the dark, and tied up his straw sandals.

Pushing open the creaking wooden door, the cold wind rushed in immediately.He shrunk his neck and walked to the eaves where he stood last night.The straw mat was still in place, slightly damp from the night dew.He took off his straw sandals and stood up barefoot.

Stand still for an hour.

The legs are naturally spread apart, slightly bent, and the center of gravity is lowered.Hold your hands in a virtual embrace, slow down and lengthen your breathing.The soreness that nearly tore my muscles last night came back again, along with the chill that penetrated my bones.He closed his eyes, dismissed all thoughts, and only focused on maintaining this posture, feeling the trembling of every muscle in the body, the stiffness of every joint, and the slow flow of blood in the cold limbs.

Time passed in darkness and cold.The first rooster crow came in the distance, and a faint hint of fish belly white appeared on the horizon.The legs went from trembling to numbness to regaining consciousness with a sharper tingling pain.The muscles in his lower back felt like they were being pulled repeatedly by countless red-hot wires.Sweat seeped out from his forehead, and was immediately blown away by the wind, leaving a cold trail.

He didn't move.

Until the eastern sky light completely lit up, outlining the outline of the low house in the courtyard.The banging sound of the watch sounded again, it was time.

Chen Mo slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air, which drew a long white line in the cold morning mist.He slowly stopped, moved his almost unconscious toes, bent down to pick up the straw sandals and put them on.My legs felt like lead, but when I took a step, I could feel a strange, heavy sense of stability.

He picked up the hatchet and rope leaning against the wall and walked towards the back mountain.

The place to cut firewood today is on the East Ridge, which is steeper and farther away than yesterday's west slope.When Chen Mo arrived, there were already some handymen climbing up the mountain road.He followed silently, not fast, but every step was solid.

"Have you heard? Yesterday, Inner Master Uncle Zhao broke through again and reached the seventh level of Qi Refining!" A young handyman in front lowered his voice with unconcealable envy.

"Tsk, he has the spiritual roots of gold and fire. He entered the outer sect three years ago and entered the inner sect this year. I heard that the master praised him for his extraordinary talent." Another voice interface.

"Comparing people to each other makes people mad. Those of us with four or five spiritual roots have to spend our lives chopping wood and carrying water, so we can only have enough food and clothing and live a few more years."

"Isn't it good to live for a few more years? It's better than those mortals outside. They'll be gone in a cold weather."

"That's true..."

The sound of discussion gradually faded away as the mountain road turned.Chen Mo had no expression on his face, he just held the wooden handle of the hatchet tightly.The burrs on the wooden handle dug into the gaps in the calluses on the palms, which was a little itchy but not painful.

When he arrived, he chose a shady forest.The trees here are not thick, but their wood is hard and resistant to burning.He lowered the rope, tightened his belt, and began to swing the knife.

"Tuk! Tuk! Tuk!"

The sound of the hatchet chopping on the tree trunk was dull and monotonous, and could be heard far away in the early morning silence of the mountain forest.Once, and again.Sweat quickly rolled down from his forehead and dripped into his eyes. He raised his hand to wipe it away with his sleeve, without stopping.

When he reached the third tree, he heard footsteps.

Very light, very slow, stepping on the fallen leaves, making a fine rustling sound.Not the fast-moving steps of those young handymen.

Chen Mo stopped and turned around.

It was the skinny old man I saw at the well yesterday, Lao Zhoutou.He was stooped and carrying a hatchet in his hand. He walked slowly over and stopped a few steps away from Chen Mo. He squinted at the half-cut tree.

"The knife is blunt." Old Zhou opened his mouth, his voice hoarse, like a broken bellows.

Chen Mo lowered his head and looked at the hatchet in his hand. The gap was indeed more obvious."The steward said they won't be polished until next month."

Lao Zhoutou didn't answer, but walked over and stretched out a skinny hand.Chen Mo hesitated and handed over the hatchet.The old man took the knife, gently scraped the blade with his thumb, and looked at the light again.

"Prepare a whetstone for yourself." Lao Zhoutou handed the knife back and turned towards a slightly thinner tree nearby. "It doesn't take much trouble. Just pick up the flat bluestones by the river and sharpen them yourself. The knife is sharp, saves effort and time."

He spoke intermittently, and then began to chop down his own tree.The movement seemed slow, even a little shaky, but when the hatchet fell, the angle was very accurate, it was in the same position every time, and the cut was very deep.After a few moments, the tree began to tilt, making an overwhelming roar.

Chen Mo looked at the back of Lao Zhou cutting the tree, and then looked at the blunt knife in his hand.

He thought of the water sloshing out by the water tank yesterday.Thinking of the old man's cloudy eyes.I remembered that when he walked away, his back was slightly hunched, as if it would fall apart the next moment.

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