Based on Ah Mian's knowledge, her understanding of this statement was roughly as follows: During years of famine, when people couldn't afford to eat, they had no choice but to sell their children.

Just as she was about to retort, a sharp wood-chopping knife flew past her and stuck straight into the ground in front of Lu Weiwei.

Meng Chijian remained expressionless, and the crowd silently parted to make way for him.

"Don't let me hear you say that again."

The laborers buying food also shouted, "Yes! How can you slander someone's innocence out of thin air?"

Seeing this, Lu Weiwei's eyes reddened, and she lowered her gaze. "I... I just misspoke, I accidentally spoke too fast... I was just joking..."

This is her usual tactic.

She gossips, but if the other person takes it seriously, she claims it was unintentional and that the other person is making a mountain out of a molehill and being aggressive. Anyone who isn't very bright is easily fooled by her.

Meng Chijian sneered, "Ever since your cousin married me, you've been going around the countryside ruining my wife's reputation. Do you think I'm dead? You're always gossiping about this family and that family. Is your own life too hard?"

These words resonated deeply, and everyone immediately felt they made perfect sense, prompting them to discuss them with satisfaction.

Ah Mian, who was on guard against someone taking advantage of the chaos to steal steamed buns, was somewhat surprised.

I thought Meng Chijian was quiet and not good with words.

Like A-Mian, if you ask her to argue, she gets so flustered that she can't say anything reasonable, and even her hands and feet go numb. Only when she gets home and lies in bed does she regret not having yelled back more.

Zhang Yixing was also displeased and angrily cursed, "You gossipy woman, what are you doing making a fool of yourself! Forget it, we'll leave first... I'll come back to apologize another day."

A-Mian glared at him, even more displeased.

Lu Weiwei's face flushed red and then turned pale. Being criticized by her husband to her face was more painful than any other person's scolding. For a moment, she was filled with anger. "I'll let you be smug for a few more days. You don't know yet—you'll suffer a lot in the future!"

According to the plot of her dream, in a few months, the Meng family will suffer a terrible disaster, with everyone wiped out! Let's see if they can still be so smug then.

At first glance, this sounds like a harsh statement such as "You'll see later," which has no real meaning and is just a way to save face.

A-Mian and Meng Chijian didn't take it to heart at all.

On the contrary, Yuan Hua, who was watching the commotion from the sidelines, felt something was off... She spoke with too much certainty.

Yuan Hua withdrew her gaze and silently looked at the hemp rope still binding her feet, a thought stirring in her mind.

Today's meals didn't sell out until after noon.

Ah Mian carried the heavy money bag, feeling that she still couldn't prepare too much material.

Not every laborer is willing to spend six or seven coins on a meal every day.

Today there was more money, but after counting to two hundred, Ah Mian kept getting interrupted by various things and couldn't count some of them clearly. In the end, she had to come up with a solution: she piled up fifty copper coins in each pile, and that's how she counted seven piles of copper coins!

This time, she planned to save them all herself, and when she had twenty piles, Ah Mian would go to the money shop to exchange the copper coins for a plump silver ingot.

In the afternoon, the blacksmith's shop lit a fire in the stove. Business was usually so-so, but Ah Mian's food sale attracted a lot of onlookers, which led to Meng Chijian getting a big customer who ordered sixty horseshoes.

The clanging and banging sounds rang out again on the street, quite pleasant to the ear.

After counting the money, Ah Mian was exhausted from a busy morning. She first tidied up the money bag and hid it in the front of her clothes. Meng Chijian silently raised his eyebrows and coughed, "You are not allowed to hide money like this when there are outsiders around, nor can you take the money out like this."

“I’m not stupid,” A-Mian said. “I know it’s better to keep your wealth hidden so others don’t steal it.”

Meng Chijian hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

Then A-Mian found a clean cloth and carefully washed her face and hands, wiping her arms and back with the cloth. Only then did she lie down on the bamboo chair, fanning herself to prepare for her afternoon nap.

At first, the blacksmith shop didn't have these things; it only had two wooden stools.

But as Ah Mian went into town more often, she gradually added bamboo chairs, screens, small wooden cabinets, palm-leaf fans and other items, creating a resting space by the window.

There was also a small iron lock hanging on the wooden cabinet, which was specially made.

Actually, there wasn't anything valuable inside, but Ah Mian would put the stones she found, cicada shells, buttons, and little trinkets like rabbits woven from leaves inside. Now there was one more thing: a short wooden stick with a few marks carved on it, which she used as her ledger.

Amidst the continuous hammering, Ah Mian, seeking coolness, hugged the bamboo pillow and slowly closed her eyes.

When I woke up again, the setting sun was shining in the west, like a fried egg hanging low in the sky.

The room was quiet; there was no more clanging of metal, only a soft gurgling sound.

It looked like bubbles rising to the surface.

A-Mian, still half asleep, lifted a thin towel, put on her shoes, and walked towards the door. She noticed that the kettle that had been on the stove was gone, replaced by a soup pot that was emitting a continuous aroma.

She suddenly felt very hungry.

Meng Chijian leaned against a wooden door, calmly polishing a small horseshoe with a whetstone.

For some reason, Ah Mian noticed that he had a pair of very large hands, with distinct knuckles, long and flexible, capable of breaking iron and cleaning the tiniest burrs.

"woke up?"

"Hmm..." A-Mian began, "Can I learn blacksmithing from you?"

Meng Chijian raised his face, sunlight filtering through his eyelashes and casting a faint shadow beneath his eyes. He smiled. "No. Forging blacksmithing requires a lot of strength, and the flying slag can injure people. I can teach you polishing, though; it's not difficult. Come and watch."

Amian curiously moved closer, and Meng Chijian encircled her, instructing her to polish the surface in circles with a whetstone, following the prescribed direction.

"Why is this horseshoe so small? Where can you find a horse this small?"

Meng Chijian said, "Yes, there was a particularly silly horse. The herd of horses all ran forward in a race to see who could reach the destination first, but this horse was at the very back. Suddenly, she had a brilliant idea and ran in the opposite direction, and that's how she became the first place winner."

"Really?" A-Mian scratched her ear and said righteously, "Why are you talking so close to my ear? It tickles."

"..."

"Take it, take it. There's a red string tied here. Go play somewhere else." Meng Chijian dragged the troublesome young woman away.

Amian wasn't annoyed. She looked at it over and over again, asking, "Was it a gift for me?"

"No, I lost it. Whoever finds it keeps it."

She immediately hung it around her neck as a necklace, about the same size as the kind of peace locks that doting elders in the city would give as gifts.

On the battlefield, soldiers considered horseshoes to be a symbol of good luck.

Legend has it that it can protect a general wounded by an arrow and on the verge of death, and shelter a displaced and helpless orphan girl. It can bring the wearer a smooth life and a bright future.

But perhaps the first soldier to wear horseshoes did so simply so that when he died on the battlefield, his comrades could recognize his riddled corpse.