"Hum..." "Ha..." The veins on Er Gouzi's arms bulged, and he lifted a stone high above his head and walked around the three mu of land several times. At this time, he finally exhaled and smashed the stone heavily on the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust. This stone weighs at least three or four hundred kilograms, and now it can be loosened and lifted. Every day, he eats the food in the gourd, and his strength and cultivation level are improving rapidly. The previous strand of true energy has become several times stronger. But he still can't crush the stone into powder, even if it is a stone as small as a pigeon egg. Whenever I think of the relaxed and comfortable demeanor of the master when he crushes stones, a yearning rises in my heart. I don't know how many years of practice I have to practice to be like the master. After throwing the stone, Er Gouzi picked up a wooden sword and began to practice basic sword styles.
놛 has learned several basic sword styles, such as stabbing, chopping, lifting, hanging, tapping... According to the sword formula copied by the master, you can use a heavy sword during practice, and the weight gradually increases from 10 jin to 500 jin. When facing the enemy in battle, use a light sword, and your power will naturally increase. When Er Gouzi saw this, he thought he had seen it wrong. Although 놛 can lift a boulder weighing several jin with both hands, it is not easy to use a heavy sword of more than ten jin with one hand, let alone 100 jin. To use a 100 jin heavy sword, you need at least a thousand jin giant. Er Gouzi doesn't have a suitable heavy sword in his hand now, so he can tie a few stones to the wooden sword, which weighs about six jin. At this time, in front of 놛, there is a scarecrow that looks like a normal person, with many copper coins tied to his body. He saw that he held the sword in one hand and stabbed the scarecrow slowly. "Swish!" The sword hit the center of the copper coin! Then he put the sword away and stabbed again... Stabbing is the most commonly used and basic action in swordsmanship. It is required to be stable and accurate, fast and smooth, and reach the tip of the sword. The most effort is put into stabbing every day. Until the sun gradually went down, Er Gouzi still thrust the sword again and again in the afterglow of the sunset... Time flies so fast, it is the season of snow flying before the New Year, and the whole world has turned white. Only on Shekou Mountain, some places that outsiders cannot see are still green and full of vitality. It is almost the New Year, and Er Gouzi still owes Huang Laocai 40 taels of silver, which he agreed to pay back at the end of each year. I made 14 taels of silver from selling pills before, and I spent a lot of money during this period. In addition to eating meat occasionally, I often bought wine and meat to honor my teacher. Now I have only six taels of silver left.
There is a lot of food, and I have saved more than 200 stones in the gourd. The ginseng planted before finally bloomed and produced seeds. I used these seeds to plant another two acres of ginseng. Now I have reclaimed a total of 10 acres of land, including three acres of rice fields, four acres of Polygonatum, one acre of Cistanche deserticola, and two acres of ginseng. In addition, the stone house, goose house, and open space for martial arts activities occupy one acre in total. Ginseng has a long life span, often 10 to 20 years, and even 50 or 100 years of ginseng. So I plan to save some ginseng seeds to further expand the planting area. I plan to plant ginseng in the three mu of rice fields. The food stored in the gourd is enough for me to eat for 20 years. Even if I make pills to sell, I probably won’t need so much. Recently, I have been making some pills in my spare time. I have saved more than one stone of pills in the gourd, and I plan to sell them in the county town in a few days. However, before I go, I have another idea that I want to try. I planted ginseng and Polygonatum odoratum before, just to add them to the pills. Let the pills have a little medicinal flavor, look more like it, and maybe they can sell better. Now that I have found a market, I still want to try adding some medicinal materials. I dug up several Polygonatum odoratum plants, each of which is more than half a foot long. These Polygonatum odoratum are golden and strong, with three or four nodes, which should be equivalent to a medicinal age of about three or four years. In fact, it has only been three or four months since the beginning of planting. Cook the Polygonatum odoratum, add it to the rice, pound it into a fine mud, then roll it into balls and dry it. In addition, I also used the same method to make a kind of ball with Cistanche deserticola added. After making it, put it into the gourd to increase the concentration of spiritual energy. After such a long time of exploration, it has been concluded that the quality of anything put into the gourd can be improved and produce some magical effects. However, these things are not infinitely improved in the gourd. The fastest improvement on the first day, and it can be improved a little bit on the second day. After three days, it reaches the limit and can no longer be improved. Probably because of the improvement of cultivation, I can now make the gourd change eight times in a row. At its largest, the gourd became two or three feet high, and anything could be stuffed into it. At its smallest, it became smaller than a hair, like a tiny needle that could be inserted into the skin and no one could find it. Three days later, Er Gouzi carried the sack and carefully went down the mountain along a rope. Now the mountain was covered with snow, and there was a layer of ice on the rocks and trees. It was too slippery and you would fall if you walked. What's more, the terrain here was extremely dangerous and you would fall off the cliff if you were not careful.
When he got down to the foot of the mountain, the straw sandals on his feet had been worn out. He simply threw away the broken straw sandals and walked barefoot in the snow, planning to buy a pair of cotton shoes in the city this time. Last time I went to the city, I saw all the nobles in the county wearing cotton shoes, holding their heads high and walking with their legs wide open, looking very impressive. I heard that the county magistrate wore a kind of long shoes, which seemed to be called boots, made of cowhide, and inlaid with gold and silver threads. Er Gouzi has been used to walking barefoot or wearing straw shoes since he was a child, and a thick layer of calluses has been worn out on the soles of his feet. But now that he has made money, he also wants to buy a pair of cotton shoes to try what it feels like to wear cotton shoes. Just as he was thinking about buying a pair of new cotton shoes, he saw a small figure curled up beside the official road in front of him, not knowing whether he was dead or alive. In winter, there are many such roadside corpses. You can often see some dead bodies on the roadside, either starved to death or frozen to death, and Er Gouzi has become accustomed to it. The 꿯正꺶 family is all worthless, not those noble officials who can just fall to the side of the road when they are tired of working, and die if they want. The 꺶 family has long been tempered with a heart colder than this ice and snow. Since 껛 was kicked out of the house by 꺶博 last year, if it weren't for the gourd, 꺶 would probably die on the side of the road like this. One day, Er Gouzi saw the small figure, which was probably only about six years old. For the first time in history, they actually felt sympathy for each other. Thinking of 놛 and 꺶dog, who were also six years old, they became orphans at the age of six, and worked hard in 꺶博's house, living a shabby life. Gently pushed away the tattered clothes that the child covered his face with, the little face was pale, and the messy and knotted hair covered half of 꺶's face, and there were a few fleas crawling on the hair. It turned out that he was still breathing, not dead! He picked up the child, fed him some water, and took out a pill and stuffed it into his mouth. The child was probably too hungry. Although he was dazed, he would swallow everything he put into his mouth. After eating more than a dozen pills, the child slowly opened his eyes and looked at Er Gouzi with great effort. "Child! I'm glad you woke up!" "You can keep this bag of food and eat it slowly. Whether you can survive depends on your own efforts." Er Gouzi said, and took out a bag from the sack, which was full of hand-rolled pills. If he ate sparingly, maybe the child could survive until next spring. Maybe he would freeze to death in the wind and snow at night. Er Gouzi left a bag of food and left. The child stuffed the food into his arms and hugged it tightly, pulled the hair in front of his forehead, and looked at Er Gouzi's back as he walked away. The child's eyes were complicated, and even the dark red mole on his forehead seemed to become brighter.
