The poor man

"Uncle Nie, please tell me why. I will be the referee for you. I guarantee fairness and impartiality." Zong Yi interjected, saying that watching the excitement is not a big deal.

"Okay! I'm relieved when there is a referee." Nie Guangyi raised his right hand halfway, then put it with his left hand and rubbed it together.

In this not-cold season, the action of rubbing hands seems a bit strange.

It's a bit like wanting to give Zong Yi a slap on the head, but holding back at the last second.

Meng Xinzhi held up her chin, tilted her head, and looked at Nie Guangyi.

This is not the first time she has met Nie Guangyi, but it is the first time she is curious about Nie Guangyi.

Nie Guangyi began to explain his reasons under Meng Xinzhi's unabashed gaze:

"Since a long time ago, there has been a popular saying among the people, [The rich set off fireworks, the poor make iron flowers]."

"In addition, there is a more well-known saying, [There are three hardships in life: blacksmithing and selling tofu]."

"Blacksmithing is too hard and the income is not high."

"Ever since blacksmiths knew that blacksmithing flowers could be used for performances, they began to use it to supplement their family income."

"All signs indicate that those who came out to forge ironwork in the first place were all poor."

"You can't deny this, right?"

Nie Guangyi looked back at Meng Xinzhi straightly, without any guilt at all.

Feeling guilty is an emotion that only comes from peeking.

In this fair and above-board situation, whoever has a guilty conscience will lose.

"I don't deny it." Meng Xinzhi found Nie Guangyi's expression a bit funny.

It's quite a bit of an attitude of asking her to guess how many points she got in the exam after she got a good grade in the exam and went home.

Meng Xinzhi looked at Zong Yi, then turned back to Nie Guangyi, with a smile on his face that he couldn't hide.

"Can you stop laughing!"

Nie Guangyi's vicious tone was quite a bit begging for mercy.

"Why?" Meng Xinzhi showed no intention of restraining himself at all.

The beauty's smile turns to starry eyes. The moonlight is shy. She holds a golden pot.

Nie Guangyi was completely confused.

The girl in front of me is simply playing foul.

It is so foul that a person who is allergic to classical music will be reminded of Dongpo’s poems.

Nie Guangyi did not answer Meng Xinzhi's question, but instead asked Zongyi: "Does the referee care?"

"What the hell?" Referee Zong Xiao hasn't figured out the [Law Enforcement Regulations] yet.

"Your sister keeps laughing. She keeps laughing. She is not serious at all. How can I explain clearly what is wrong with this way of laughing?"

Nie Guangyi said angrily: "Didn't your school teachers ask you to listen carefully when they were in class?"

What a valid reason!

"My sister, look at how angry Teacher Nie is!"

"Then sister is not laughing?" Meng Xinzhi tried her best to endure it.

"That won't work. My sister has the prettiest smile."

"Can I laugh or not?" Meng Xinzhi was amused by Zong Yi and smiled even more.

Nie Guangyi was speechless and had no choice but to move his gaze downwards.

It immediately moved to Meng Xinzhi's waist.

The waist is slender, the flowers are like cheeks, the eyebrows are like leaves, and the words are like springs.

Now it's better, even ancient poems by non-famous poets have entered his mind.

It’s too much, these eloquent sisters!

Not being beaten or scolded, an internationally renowned architect has brought trouble upon himself, so he can only settle for the next best thing.

Nie Guangyi sighed resignedly and began to arm himself with knowledge:

"If you want to have anti-scalding effect, ordinary clothes will definitely not work."

"It has to be a thick cotton-padded jacket anyway, right?"

"In an era when living standards were low, blacksmiths might not be able to raise enough money for a cotton-padded jacket for several years."

"Wearing thick cotton clothes to make iron splinters, if the iron splinters get on the clothes, you may not even have the money to patch them later."

"Therefore, they would rather be naked and get hurt than ruin their only cotton-padded jacket."

"The above are the real reasons for being shirtless."

Nie Guangyi rubbed his hands again.

This time, Meng Xinzhi didn't understand the reason.

"Mr. Nie, where did you get this reason?"

Meng Xinzhi's memory does not contain this.

When she dreamed about blacksmithing, she was just pushing Wang Ximeng around.

It’s one of the many performances I’ve watched.

This technique is not the main focus.

"I didn't see it." Nie Guangyi also smiled, using the curve of his mouth that he thought was the most beautiful: "I just heard it."

"No, Uncle Nie, I'm ready to judge you as the winner, how can you just tell me by hearsay?" Referee Zong Yi looked uncertain.

"What's wrong with hearsay?" Nie Guangyi asked Zongyi: "Don't you think hearsay is more reliable than dreams?"

"Uncle Nie, hearsay is definitely more reliable than my dream. It's the same dream, but my sister's dream is different."

"I see, little classmate Zongyi, it's also just hearsay, but it's different for those who are inheritors of intangible cultural heritage."

"What do you mean, Uncle Nie?"

"That's right, I heard this from your father's hometown, Mr. Yang Jianjun, the intangible cultural heritage inheritor of Queshan Tiehua."

"Wow! Uncle Nie, have you ever seen the intangible inheritor of Queshan Tiehua?"

"Is there anything strange about this? My grandfather is also the intangible inheritor of traditional wooden arch bridge construction techniques!"

"Oh, that's right! Uncle Nie, I'll judge you to have won this game. Please tell me about the iron flower in the mountain."

"Isn't Queshan your hometown? You still need me to introduce it to you?"

"That was my father's grandfather's father's hometown, and my grandfather's father came to the south."

"That's it. If your sister also thinks that I won, I will tell you."

When Nie Guangyi negotiated terms with a little girl, he was only twelve years old. If he were one more year old, he would look even more childish than Zongyi.

"Sister, sister, sister, please make a statement!"

"Sister, sister, sister, you are right!"

Zong Yi and Meng Xinzhi respectively used classical rap to express their attitude.

Nie was twenty years younger and Guangyi was satisfied and began to popularize the science of Queshan Tiehua:

"To make iron, you first put the iron in the furnace and burn it into molten iron."

"Then pour molten iron at 1600-1700 degrees into the [flower stick] made of willow wood."

"This temperature is not fixed. There are many influencing factors, and it also depends on the weather that day."

"There is a formula for making iron flowers, which is called [hit white, not red, hit fast, not slow]."

"When the molten iron is red, it means it is relatively viscous."

"When the temperature rises to a certain level, usually close to 1,700 degrees, the molten iron turns white."

"Only white molten iron can be used to make iron flowers."

"The free-spirited artists took turns to hit the [flower sticks] in the center of the [flower shed] that had been set up in advance."

"Only if the force is strong enough and the striking position is accurate enough, the molten iron can be completely dispersed in the air."

"In the middle of the [flower shed], a long [old pole] will be erected. Hitting the old pole means everything will go well in the coming year."

"In Teacher Yang's words, "Tiehua" means "fighting against the scorching danger with flesh and blood, and using one's own strength to inspire everyone's hearts."
Chapter completed!