Reborn in 1985, starting from the mountains of Northwest China

The monotonous sound echoed in the backyard.

Soon, sweat appeared on Chen Feng's forehead, and the heat emanated from the collar of his cotton-padded jacket, condensing into white mist in the cold air.

My arms started to ache, especially my forearms. The repetitive, sustained movements caused my muscles to tighten in waves.

He couldn't see inside the tube, so he could only judge by the tactile sensation transmitted through the sandpaper with his fingertips—where it was still rough and where it seemed smoother.

This is even more patience-testing than the outer wall.

The sun had quietly climbed a little higher, but the light remained dim.

Zhang Tiechui's hammering in the shop was sometimes frequent and sometimes paused, but he never glanced at the backyard.

Chen Feng would occasionally stop, shake his sore and numb arms, wipe the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, and look at the iron pipe on his knee.

The rust layer on the outer wall was finally worn away in large sections, revealing the dark original iron color underneath. Although it was still covered with pits, it no longer looked like a lifeless rusty shell.

Inner wall...

He carefully reached in again and felt it; it seemed a little smoother than before, but it was still a bit prickly.

He took a breather, drank a few sips of the cold, coarse tea that had been sitting to the side, and then picked up the sandpaper again.

This time I used a finer grit of sandpaper.

The monotonous "chachacha" sound rang out again.

He pursed his lips, his gaze fixed solely on the small area being polished, completely absorbed.

My fingers got hot from the sandpaper, and the area between my thumb and forefinger gradually turned red.

Time slipped away little by little amidst the monotonous rubbing sounds.

The sun had passed its zenith and began to set in the west.

The hammering in the shop stopped.

After a while, Zhang Tiechui's heavy footsteps sounded.

He lifted the thick cloth curtain at the back door and came out, carrying a rough earthenware bowl that was steaming.

He didn't approach; he just stood under the eaves and glanced at it from afar.

Chen Feng noticed him come out. He didn't stop what he was doing, but just looked up, his face covered in rust and sweat, and called out, "Uncle."

Zhang Tiechui grunted in response, his gaze sweeping over the small pile of rust and black mud accumulated at Chen Feng's feet before settling on the iron pipe on his knee.

The outer wall had largely turned iron-colored; though not perfectly smooth, it had been completely transformed. He noticed that Chen Feng's hand holding the sandpaper was steady, and the sanding rhythm was slow, but every inch was covered.

"Stop for a second, drink this first."

Zhang Tiechui placed the bowl on the stone platform beside him. The bowl contained piping hot vegetable porridge with a few slices of ginger floating in it. "Give me your hand."

Chen Feng put down his things, wiped his hands on his old cotton-padded jacket, and walked over.

Zhang Tiechui grabbed his right hand, turned it over, and looked at the tiger's mouth and the fingertips.

It got red and two small, barely noticeable blisters appeared, but the skin didn't break.

"good."

Zhang Tiechui loosened his grip, his tone still calm, "Sharpening rust is different from sharpening a knife. You have to apply force evenly and not focus on one spot. You have to be even more careful with the inner wall. Keep changing the direction of the sandpaper so you don't grind off-center and create a dent, then the pipe will be ruined."

Chen Feng nodded.

"Have some porridge first, then we'll get it done."

After Zhang Tiechui finished speaking, he turned around and went back to the shop. The curtain fell, separating the front and back yards.

Chen Feng picked up the bowl of ginger porridge.

It was scalding hot, and as it went down my throat, the warmth immediately spread to my limbs and bones, dispelling the chill that had accumulated over the past half day.

He finished drinking it in a few gulps, and a light sweat broke out on his body. The soreness in his arms seemed to have eased a bit.

He sat back down on the low stool, not immediately continuing to polish, but carefully recalling Zhang Tiechui's words. He then picked up the iron pipe again, held it up to the light, and carefully examined the inner wall, feeling it with his fingers little by little.

Then, he changed to a brand new sheet of fine sandpaper, rewrapped it, and adjusted the way and angle of applying force.

"Snap... snap..."

The sound seemed more stable and even than before.

In the backyard, besides the monotonous yet persistent rubbing sound, there was only the occasional gust of cold wind, gently rustling the bare branches.

Inside the shop, the "clang" of the hammer rang out again, one strike after another, heavy and rhythmic.

Become!

When Chen Feng put down the iron pipe and looked up, it was almost evening.

He stood up, stomped his feet, and shook his arms, trying to shake off the soreness.

He ignored the blisters on his hands and quickly walked over to Zhang the blacksmith: "Uncle Zhang, take a look."

As Chen Feng spoke, he handed over the tube.

Zhang the blacksmith took it and looked at it. The rust on the pipe was long gone. Although it wasn't smooth, it felt even to the touch.

For a novice to do this well on the first try, it seems this kid really put in the effort.

"Does your hand hurt?"

Zhang the blacksmith asked him, his tone still curt, but it was genuine concern.

"A little, but it's nothing."

Chen Feng answered honestly.

Zhang Tiechui's gaze swept over his swollen tiger's mouth and fingertips, and he nodded: "Hmm, the skin isn't broken, the bones aren't injured, just a bit of skin and flesh worn out. It's always like this the first time you grind something."

Zhang Tiechui paused, seemingly considering his words.

After waiting for a long time, he finally said directly, "The pipe is being ground quite well. At this rate, I reckon it can be finished tomorrow."

He gestured with his chin to the rusty lump and the dirty wooden tray on the ground, "Take these two back and deal with them too."

Chen Feng paused in his hand-soaking motion, a sudden warmth rising in his heart, as if he had been hit on the face by the heat from a stove.

He knew the weight of Uncle Zhang's words.

This means Uncle Zhang has approved of him.

"Why!"

Chen Feng's voice was a bit louder than before, "I'll come first thing tomorrow morning!"

Zhang Tiechui grunted in agreement.

He stopped mentioning the polishing and instead said, "After soaking your hands, apply some ointment. I mixed some herbal powder into that lard ointment; it works."

After saying that, he walked back to his seat, picked up the unfinished small iron piece again, but did not start working on it immediately. Instead, he looked at the furnace fire, seemingly thinking about something.

After a while, he spoke as if to himself, or perhaps to Chen Feng: "Getting a gun... you can't rush it, but you can't be slow either. You need to be clear about what you're doing, and even more importantly, you need to be clear about what you're doing."

"I've got it, Uncle," he replied earnestly.

Zhang Tiechui said no more, lowered his head, and began to focus on filing the piece of iron.

The sound of filing was fine and even, echoing in the warm shop, like a peaceful prelude to tomorrow's more complicated work.

Chen Feng carefully applied the lard ointment, and the burning stinging sensation on his hands was greatly reduced by a cool sensation.

He packed his things and waved goodbye to Uncle Zhang.

"Uncle, I'll head back now."

"Let's go back. Look carefully on the way."

Zhang Tiechui didn't even raise his head, but the file in his hand seemed to move a little more nimbly.

Back in our little courtyard, my wife was cooking.

Seeing Chen Feng return carrying things, Lin Xiu couldn't help but ask curiously, "How did it go, Brother Feng?"

Chen Feng carefully placed the things he was carrying on the table.

Lin Xiu leaned closer to take a look. She didn't know anything about this thing, but she could tell that it was something used to make homemade guns.

"Don't worry, Xiuer. We'll go again tomorrow, and I reckon we'll go into the mountains the day after tomorrow."

Chen Feng hugged Lin Xiu from behind and whispered something.

Lin Xiu blushed and replied softly, "Okay... I've already prepared everything I need for the mountains."

"You...be careful."