Insufficient balance

  Zhao Fubo and his men returned to Huangsha City without causing a stir, but only added some laughter and suspicion.

  The joke is that Shu Yu'er bought two slaves for Zhao Fu'bo, a lame one and a small one, giving everyone the feeling that they are just fooling around and will not be able to manage the household in the future.

  Some informed old men would naturally shake their heads and sigh, then swarm to the West Wing to congratulate Zhao Xu on purchasing a large number of slaves.

  It was naturally guessed that the robbers Zhao Fu and his men encountered on their way back were the ones who had been making off with the family's valuables. What most intrigued the members of the household, causing them to whisper among themselves constantly, was what exactly those robbers' origins were!

  This kind of thing is generally not something people would talk about openly. However, everyone can understand through exchanged glances that it's not a mysterious matter.

  But returning to life in Huangsha City was a huge change for Zhao Fubo.

  The content of learning has changed, at least those military books that were memorized are no longer incomprehensible things. Compared to the "mathematics and physics" taught by Mr. Martin, it's like children's babbling.

  In addition to what was mentioned above, there is also Little John's English and French, which are things that Zhao Fubo has never heard of.

  For this, Zhao Fubo's daily time was allocated like this: getting up in the morning to study languages with Little John, followed by a whole morning of "math and science". If memorizing books is difficult, then what about these "math and science" which are even more difficult than climbing a tall mountain!

  With this knowledge as a foundation, reciting books is no longer a difficult task for Zhao Fubo. In fact, he has already begun to look forward to the next quarter's competition, where he may be able to achieve good results.

  Lunch is no longer sent over from the Liu Yuan side. On the contrary, since there are servants in the East Wing now, food and vegetables are taken away according to the number of people.

  As for fruits and meat, except for Zhao Fubo's share, others basically had no chance to taste them.

  In front of the gate, there was a simple long table. Mr. Martin, who had difficulty walking, was already seated at his own position on one side of the table.

  "Bang!"

  The kitchen door was kicked open with one foot, and Abduljemal rushed out from inside with a bowl of soup. Then the soup bowl made a "peng" sound and was thrown onto the table.

  "My Lord Allah, it's really going to burn my hand off. If only my hand were like the Damascus sword..."

  As Abdul-Jamar was about to start his never-ending chatter again, Martin habitually hummed a tune.

  "Hmm, Zhē Mǎ ěr, please hurry up and bring out our main course, I'm so hungry my stomach is sticking to my back!"

  Fortunately, he stopped Abdul-Jabbar's lengthy speech in time and saved the soup from falling into that guy's saliva.

  At this time, following behind Abdul Zema was Mu Ke, his hands were covered with calluses, and he didn't care about the freshly baked meat pie at all. The large plate was steadily held in his hand.

  Their food is quite good now. Although the head chef, Little John, can't make any Arabic or Chinese dishes, his grilled steak isn't bad either.

  Even the fruit platter that Zhao Fubo brought was mixed with a "salad sauce" made from plant oil, egg yolks and brewed vinegar, and fresh cream, invented by Teacher Ma Ding, which added another dish to each person's plate.

  The only problem is that he doesn't carry the rice, wash the dishes, or use chopsticks. Before meals, you can't disturb him while he's praying, and during meals, he has to be the one to distribute the food.

  If it were just these special habits, that would be fine, but more importantly, he never cuts his hair. Everyone looked at the gradually lengthening golden hair and began to suspect, was he going to leave his hair as long as a woman's?

  The rules in the East Wing are actually no rules at all.

  According to Zhao Fubo's promise, everyone here is his subordinate, but they are all free men with freedom.

  On the long table, Little John and Jack were saying grace before meals. Teacher Martin was slowly savoring the fine wine that could only be found in Huangsha City.

  "It's a pity that Muslims in Arabia don't drink wine, for they have excellent grapes growing in the desert!"

  The only one who used his hands was Abdul Jamal, although he used what he called "clean" right hand, but his long and black fingernails were really sorry for the meat on the plate.

  Without Little John distributing food, Zhao Fubo had nothing better to do than to discuss their marksmanship with Mu Ke.

  "Fubo, this afternoon you take them to continue building the house. I'm afraid soon after, we'll have to add some more manpower, otherwise..."

  Martin, who was drinking wine, did not intend to give Zhao Fu Bo too much free time. He put down the glass of fine wine and arranged for the next task.

  What surprised Zhao Fubo was that his teacher, Martin, was indeed a godlike person. Not only did he understand some "mysterious" math and physics, but even the house he built was both fast and good.

  Originally, there were only two rooms in the east house. Now with so many more people, it's naturally impossible to fit everyone in. So Zhao Fubo and Teacher Ma Ding are discussing and planning to turn this place into a courtyard.

  "Look at this, it's our brick!"

  Zhao Fubo and Mu Ke looked at the brick in their hands, and they couldn't help but exchange a glance, seeing that they had the same idea from each other's eyes.

  "Are we really getting stupider as we live on? We can't even recognize a brick anymore!"

  It is also a "brick" in their hands, but it is fixed on a wooden frame with a "use" character shape with two canvas houses.

  "Teacher Martin, this..."

  Zhao Fubo shook off the object towards Martin, with a completely incomprehensible expression.

  "If a house were built with such bricks, people living inside would die of heat!"

  "Hum, you young fellow, are you spending all day thinking about practicing guns? Have you forgotten everything I taught you?"

  "Where, where is it? I'm being very serious about studying!"

  Martin took another sip of his fine wine before slowly and deliberately explaining the principle of this house to Zhao Fu Bo.

  "When we set up, these stakes are driven into the ground. In this way, the whole wall takes root. The outer canvas is left with a little distance from the ground, and some through holes are drilled on the inner short beams. In this way, when the sun shines on the canvas, heating the air inside..."

  At this point, Zhao Fubo's thinking suddenly became clear and he exclaimed loudly.

  "I understand, hot air forms upward wind, which will take away heat..."

  Seeing Zhao Fu's reaction, Martin nodded his head in satisfaction.

  "It's like that, a very simple house, you guys should be able to finish it quickly. In addition to the two rooms you already have, we need to build about four or five more rooms. So we'll build it like this..."

  While talking, Martin took out a piece of paper with a rough sketch. It seemed that in the future, it would be based on the current two rooms and surrounded by a quadrangle courtyard. On each square representing a house, there were Chinese characters written, including study room, bedroom, bathroom, toilet, etc.

  "Teacher Martin, what is this laboratory used for?"

  "That place, once the house is built, we're going to do some fun things inside! Especially the first thing we'll make is a bow."

  After lunch was Zhao Fubo's favorite time, he had half an afternoon to go hunting or practice his marksmanship with Mu Ke.

  Muke is indeed very infatuated with the large gun. Especially that kind of power which is absolutely different from the iron gun's usage, made him realize the wonders of the large gun.

  After the power of the midday sun weakened, it was time for him and his companions to start work. Little John had now replaced that talkative Abdul. Cemal became Martin's assistant, they stayed in the room, also didn't know what they were busy with.

  As dusk fell, a cool breeze swept over the dinner table lit with oil lamps. Eating John's pan-fried steak and salad as side dishes.

  Often when night falls, even the idle Shu Yu'er would quietly slip over and join their evening program.

  The oil lamp under the glass cover radiates light. With this dim light, people who have been busy all day are not in a hurry to rest.

  In the leisurely evening, they would sit around the oil lamp and listen to Abdul Zemaer telling stories or listening to the teacher telling stories.

  Under Mr. Martin's guidance, he recited a new poem he had just learned.

  When he recited this poem, Mr. Martin was sipping a cup of strong tea, which was his usual practice when telling stories at night. To listen to Mr. Martin's story, talkative Abdul-Jamar was sent to wash the dishes.

  "Qin dynasty's bright moon, Han dynasty's strong pass, the long march of ten thousand miles, yet no one has returned. If only the flying general of Long City were here, he would not allow the barbarian horses to cross the Yin Mountains..."

  This poem is not about Zhao Fu Bo's performance, but the beginning of a historical narrative. Zhao Fu Bo, who had never known the history of Han people's hardships, learned more and more things in his daily after-dinner chats.

  Not only did it include the Song Dynasty, but also included the events that took place on the land of China before the Song Dynasty, those things filled with blood and rain.

  But in order for Little John and Jack to understand, Martin often uses the common language among them - Arabic.

  "This poem was written by Tang Dynasty border poet Wang Changling... 'Dragon City' refers to the famous general Wei Qing who made a surprise attack on Dragon City, while 'Flying General' refers to the renowned Flying General Li Guang. 'Dragon City Flying General' does not refer to just one person, but actually refers to Li Guang and Wei Qing, and more often than not, it is used as a metaphor for many Han Dynasty generals who fought against the Xiongnu."

  Fu Bo, it's not hard to see from this poem that our Huaxia nation has suffered a lot from the invasion of northern barbarians...

  These stories reminded Zhao Fubo of the hardships of the Great Song Dynasty, and the passion of young people was surging in his chest.

  Sometimes these stories also raised doubts in Zhao Fu's mind.

  His teacher, Mr. Martin, should be a Crusader from any angle. Looking at his gray eyes, he often speculated in his heart.

  "Could an old Crusader also know those most ancient stories from the land of China?"

  No matter what, Mr. Martin's arrival brought about all the changes that made Zhao Fu's life completely different from what he had ever imagined.