Zhou Xiaoyu

In the early summer morning in Qingfeng Town, the mountain fog had not dispersed, and the moisture condensed into dewdrops, hanging on the eaves of the dilapidated wooden house at the east end of the town. As the morning sun rose, the golden light penetrated the mist with difficulty and fell into the small courtyard. Lin Chen's upper body was bare, and his muscular arms swung the axe. There was a click, and the last piece of firewood split into two halves. Beads of sweat slid down his angular cheeks. The young man wiped them off and stacked the firewood neatly in the corner with clean and neat movements. "Chen'er, take a rest, the porridge is ready." Mother Su Wan walked out of the house with two steaming bowls of whole grain porridge, her voice gentle. Lin Chen responded, put down the ax, and turned his gaze to the silent figure under the locust tree. Lin Shan was sitting on a stone bench, lowering his head and polishing a rusty iron sword. The sword looks ordinary, but if you look closely, you can see that there are vaguely strange lines on the sword, which are faintly visible in the morning light. "Dad, this sword is so rusty, why should I sharpen it?" Lin Chen approached and asked. Lin Shan didn't even raise his head, and lightly touched the blade of the sword with his skinny fingers: "Old man, you have been with me for most of your life." His tone was calm, but there was a hint of imperceptible complexity in his eyes, "You can still use it after you sharpen it." Su Wan placed the porridge bowl on the wooden table in the courtyard and sighed softly: "Just let him go." Then he went into the room and brought out a plate of pickles and three steamed buns, "Eat quickly, it will become hard when it is cold." Lin Chen grabbed the wotou and took a bite, his eyes still fixed on the iron sword in his father's hand. That late night three years ago, he accidentally saw his father practicing swordplay under the moonlight. The tip of the sword could breathe out three inches of cold light, and then he realized that his father was no ordinary mortal.