Time sure flew. It was like a donkey cart rolling downhill—you couldn't stop it.
Just like that, ten years passed.
The old locust tree in Wading Village looked another ring thicker. Its leaves turned yellow, then green, then fell.
The ear-splitting voice of Auntie Wang at the east end of the village had finally gone quiet. Apparently, she'd gone to town to see her grandson last month, thrown out her back, and was now stuck in bed, groaning.
The blacksmith shop was still the same old blacksmith shop.
Only the sign out front had been replaced. Su Li had carved the five characters "Buck Blacksmith Shop" himself.
The lettering was neat, with an indescribable strength to it, like the marks left by a smith's hammer.
The fire in the forge burned brightly.
"Clang—clang—clang—"
The rhythmic hammering rang through the morning breeze.
But it didn't sound quite the same as it had ten years ago.
Back then, the blows had been dull. Now they rang crisp and clear, with a piercing edge—the sign of strength and heat controlled to perfection.
Su Li stood before the anvil.
At thirty, a man was in his prime.
The slimness of his youth had long since vanished, replaced by a build as solid as a wall.
This wasn't dead muscle built in a gym. Every bit of it had been earned through hard work, its smooth lines like freshly forged steel.
He'd grown a little stubble.
His face had always been almost too handsome. Those two strips of facial hair and the ever-present smell of coal smoke were just enough to suppress his pretty-boy air and lend him a rougher, wilder edge.
Even so, whenever he swung his heavy hammer bare-chested in the yard, young women and married wives passing by couldn't help slowing down. Their eyes practically stuck to the sweaty groove down his back.
"Dad, how much longer do you have to hammer?"
A childish voice, with an oddly world-weary edge, came from beside him.
A boy who looked about ten was crouching near the furnace.
He looked seven parts like Su Li, and the clever glint in his eyes was impossible to hide.
Now he wore a miserable expression, holding a small fan and lazily waving it at the bellows.
This was Su Li's eldest son, Su Xiaochui.
The name was a little crude, but in these times, a humble name helped a child thrive.
"I'll hammer until this piece of iron learns to behave." Su Li didn't even turn around. His hammer came down steadily, sending sparks flying everywhere. "And it's called forging, not hammering. Can't you see the impurities being squeezed out?"
Su Xiaochui rolled his eyes, tossed the fan aside, and brushed the dust off his backside.
"Dad, can't we be a little scientific?"
The little fellow pointed at the glowing red iron and rattled off new terms Su Li often rambled about. "According to the principle of thermal expansion and contraction, if you keep hitting it like that, you'll break down the iron's internal structure. Then the hoe won't last, and you'll ruin our shop's reputation."
Su Li's hands paused for a moment.
He turned and looked at his eldest son.
That boy—who knew who he took after? He was only ten, yet his mind worked faster than a merchant's in town.
Ever since Su Li had casually taught him some physics from his old world, the boy had been talking nonsense all day, analyzing everything he saw from every angle.
"Enough chatter." Su Li pointed at the bucket with his tongs. "Go fetch two more buckets of water. If we don't finish this batch of farm tools today, you can forget about the braised pork your mother made."
At the mention of braised pork, Su Xiaochui's scientific spirit vanished without a trace.
"Coming right up!"
The little fellow answered at once, grabbed two wooden buckets taller than his legs, and ran toward the well with the nimbleness of a monkey.
Watching his son's retreating figure, Su Li's lips curled into a smile.
"Su Li."
A soft voice called from behind him.
Su Li turned around.
Saina came out of the kitchen carrying a large tray. On it sat a big pot of cold tea, along with sliced cured meat and white bread.
Ten years had passed.
The little girl who'd once been freckled and painfully thin had grown into a woman.
Perhaps Su Li had taken such good care of her, and she no longer had to do heavy labor in the fields. Saina's skin now practically glowed.
Especially her figure.
Even without seeing her face, the way her curves trembled as she walked was enough to speak for itself.
Her waist wasn't as slim as it had been when she was a girl, but the mature fullness of a married woman was even more devastating.
She was like a perfectly ripe peach, ready to release its juice at the slightest touch.
"Take a break."
Saina came over to Su Li, took the handkerchief tucked into her waistband, and rose onto her toes to wipe the sweat from his face.
Her scent, a mixture of soapwort and milk, drifted straight into Su Li's nose.
Su Li naturally lowered his head to make it easier for her to reach.
"I'm not tired." Su Li took the cold tea and gulped down a large mouthful. "This is nothing."
"You might not be tired." Saina gave him a reproachful look, though her eyes were full of concern. "Your back is soaked. Go change your clothes before the wind catches you."
As she spoke, her hand wandered over Su Li's firm chest and gave his pectoral muscle a stroke.
"You're covered in sweat. You really should wash up."
Her words were dismissive, but her body leaned against Su Li all the same. The two soft mounds pressed against his arm, rising and falling with each breath, their astonishing springiness sending wave after wave of sensation through him.
A spark of desire flickered in Su Li's heart.
That woman.
She was nearly thirty and still so clingy.
Outside, she was a sharp housewife who haggled with villagers buying tools without batting an eye.
But the moment she got home, she turned into a boneless softie, practically hanging off him.
"Come on, the kid's still here." Su Li put the empty cup back on the tray and gave her full buttocks a playful smack. "We'll talk about it tonight."
Saina blushed but didn't pull away.
Instead, she rubbed against his arm a little more before carrying the tray off, hips swaying as she went.
She moved with a graceful, swaying allure.
In these ten years, he'd only managed to fulfill his "producing offspring" quota once, but the process... had certainly been satisfying.
Just then, Old Buck came strolling back from outside with his hands behind his back.
The old man had grown old.
His hair and beard had turned completely white, and his back had begun to stoop.
The rheumatism he'd earned from years of smithing made him grimace in pain whenever the weather turned rainy.
Su Li had long since taken over the heavy responsibilities at the blacksmith shop. Old Buck now spent his days chatting with the old men at the village entrance and, while he was at it, checking up on his son-in-law's work.
"How's it going?"
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