Chapter 1 The Disappearing Chicken Legs Du’s Village is a small village in Dashanli, Zhongzhou. Almost everyone’s family name is Du Yin.
Far away from the war, the villagers are hardworking and frugal, but they live a comfortable and leisurely life.
There are only dozens of households in the village, and now every household is filled with cooking smoke. The wives of each family set up dishes and wait for their husbands to come home. There is a household in the middle of the village.
At this moment, the house is also filled with hot food. Two pots of green vegetables and four bowls of white rice.
There is actually a fat chicken in the middle, with a tempting aroma.
At the head of the table is a middle-aged man, his surname is Du Yin.
People in the three villages at home call Du Sanlang younger than him. They all call him Sange Du Sanlang. In his early years, he worked as a clerk in Fucheng for several years.
The old village chief was a veterinarian for generations.
He only gave birth to a daughter in his generation, so he passed on all his skills to Du Sanlang. After the death of the old village chief, everyone pushed Saburo to become the village chief. In addition to treating the large and small livestock in the village, Saburo also taught the children in the village to read and write. Saburo’s wife is a virtuous and hardworking family. Every family also came to help Sanniang raised a large group of chickens. On the 15th day of the lunar new year, the mother-in-law slaughtered chickens for the whole family to beat teeth.
Today is July 15th, so there is an extra fat chicken on the dining table.
Sanniang finished cooking and shouted outside.
Don’t play around, come back to eat, just listen to the sound of frolicking outside the house. A bamboo curtain is lifted to come in. Two children are walking in front.
A boy is shorter and handsome, about seven or eight years old.
This is Sanlang’s youngest son named Du Wen. Behind her is a girl who looks about twelve or thirteen years old, with a ruddy, round face, laughing, with a playful little canine tooth on her right lip, but holding a farm rake in her hand, this is Sanlang’s eldest daughter, her name is Du Wu Du Wen held a paper windmill in his hand, jumped to the table, grabbed the chopsticks, and wanted to pick up the chicken. Du Sanlang scolded, “Don’t worry, don’t worry, go clean your hands first.
” Du Wu stood the rake behind the door and saw the fat chicken on the table. After a ray of light, come over and drag Du Wen’s hands. My brother and sister will take you to clean your hands, then drag Du Wen away from the table to clean your hands.
Then the whole family sat at the table to eat. Du Wen stretched out his chopsticks and rummaged in the chicken pot. Pouting for a long time, Dao Niang, why does today’s chicken have no legs? I see other stewed chickens have two thighs! San Niang scolded with a smile, don’t you like chicken butt the most? Glancing at Du Wu inadvertently, Du Wen hummed and said, I like chicken butts without chicken legs, okay? After two mouthfuls of rice, I said, Mom and Dad, I’m full. I’ll go to the master blacksmith’s house to see the new hoe. Opened the door, took out a small bag of oil paper from her arms, and handed it to Du Wu to get it to you, master blacksmith. After finishing speaking, she smiled angrily and turned around to go.
It’s getting late and I’m staying at the master blacksmith’s house.
Sanniang heard that you’re a wild girl and you can go with you, but she couldn’t help grinning. Du Sanlang in the house also shook his head helplessly. Suspiciously puzzled, she said that Du Wu trotted straight to the blacksmith’s house at the east end of the village. The blacksmith’s surname was Wu, the only family in the village with a foreign surname. Seeing the improvement, the man saw that the villagers of Du’s family were honest and honest, and he never left. The villagers helped him build two thatched cottages at the east end of the village and started a blacksmith.
Uncle Wu, his blacksmithing skills are amazing.
The hoe he forges and the plow rake won’t break for several years. The kitchen knife he makes doesn’t know how to cut the bone. The furniture he made was not so reliable. Since then, Blacksmith Wu has lived in Dujia Village. Because his craftsmanship is so good, the farm tools he made are not easy to damage, so he usually has no work.
When he is free, he lies in front of the thatched hut and holds it. He never leaves.
Take a sip of wine and go to sleep, wake up, take a big sip of wine and then go back to sleep.
The villagers are grateful for the good farm tools he made for the whole village, and they never charge half a penny. Ask the child to bring him some, and he doesn’t refuse to bring them, so he eats them. When no one brings them to him, he doesn’t see him start a fire and cook. It seems that just drinking is enough. What did I bring you? After finishing speaking, he took out the oilcloth from his pocket and opened it to reveal two golden and greasy drumsticks. The blacksmith opened his drunken eyes and saw the chicken drumsticks in Du Wu’s hands. He said angrily that you have such good intentions.
Are you thinking about the things in this gourd of Lao Tzu? Chapter 2 The little drunkard Du Wu smiled and showed his small canine teeth but didn’t say much. He went straight to the blacksmith and handed the chicken leg to the old blacksmith himself, but he snatched the wine gourd, unplugged it and put it on his nose. After taking a deep sniff, with an intoxicated expression, he said, “Master, this chicken leg doesn’t match the taste of good wine, and the taste will be reduced by three points.” After mentioning the wine gourd, he took a few gulps and said it was strange that the big wine gourd weighing dozens of catties was in Du Wu’s. The old blacksmith smiled and scolded, bah, bah, bah, you know what good wine is. The thousand-day drunk in the capital, tsk tsk, Du Wu heard it and thought to himself, must I taste the thousand-day drunk in the future? Drink the home-brewed local wine until you are full, then think about it, then raise the wine gourd and pour a few mouthfuls, the blacksmith scolded