HNYWEF -Chapter 92 Strange Sense of Humor

Zhenguan Year 3, early fourth month (April 7).

The weather turned hot.

Not the gradual kind of heat—this was sudden, like someone had flipped a switch.

The sun hung overhead, glaring white, making the scalp tingle under the heat.

The Zhou family blacksmith shop had its doors open.

But the furnace inside only made it hotter.

Zhou Xiong stood at the long workbench, hammer rising and falling again and again. Sweat ran down his neck, soaking a large patch on his back. He didn’t wipe it, and he didn’t stop.

Zhou Hong stood nearby working the bellows, drenched in sweat.

Zhou Yi squatted at the doorway, not wanting to go inside. It was too hot—like a steamer.

He absentmindedly drew lines in the dirt with a stick, occasionally looking up at the sky.

The sky was an unreal, flat blue—no clouds at all.

He lowered his head again and kept drawing.

While he was drawing, the hammering inside suddenly stopped.

He looked up.

Zhou Xiong stood there, motionless.

The hammer had been set down on the table. He was staring toward the doorway, lost in thought.

Zhou Hong also stopped, looking at his brother.

Then Zhou Xiong suddenly smiled.

Zhou Yi froze.

His father… smiled?

Not a slight curve of the lips—but the kind of smile where the eyes bend, the shoulders tremble slightly, like he was holding something in.

Zhou Hong also froze.

He stared at his brother, even forgetting to hold the bellows handle.

“Brother?”

Zhou Xiong didn’t respond.

He just stood there, smiling.

After a moment, he shook his head slightly.

Zhou Hong and Zhou Yi exchanged a look.

Both of them were full of question marks.

Zhou Hong couldn’t hold back.

“Brother, what are you laughing at?”

Zhou Xiong snapped back to reality.

He glanced at Zhou Hong.

“Nothing.”

Then he lowered his head and went back to forging.

“Clang.”

“Clang.”

Zhou Hong stood there, staring at his brother’s back.

He felt that smile just now definitely wasn’t “nothing.”

But he didn’t ask again.

Zhou Yi still squatted at the doorway, watching his father.

The hammer fell steadily, just like always.

But somehow, something felt different.

Zhou Xiong worked for a while, then the corner of his mouth twitched again.

Zhou Yi wasn’t sure what his father was smiling at.

But suddenly, he felt like his father was in a pretty good mood today.

Zhou Xiong set the hammer down and wiped his sweat.

He walked to the doorway and looked outside.

The sky was still that fake-looking blue—no clouds at all.

He stood there for a while.

Then a thought suddenly popped into his mind.

It hadn’t rained in days.

He counted the days—April 7. Since early spring, there had only been a few proper rains. If this continued, the crops in the fields wouldn’t hold up.

There would be drought this year.

He remembered it clearly.

In history, the third year of Zhenguan saw a severe drought in the Guanzhong region, and in the sixth month, Emperor Taizong of Tang issued a self-criticism edict.
(Emperor Taizong of Tang)

Standing at the doorway, he thought about it.

And the more he thought, the more he smiled—then even let out a laugh.

Zhou Hong walked over and stood beside him.

“Brother, what are you doing?”

Zhou Xiong didn’t turn his head.

“Looking at the sky.”

Zhou Hong also looked up.

“What’s funny about the sky?”

Zhou Xiong said, “No clouds.”

Zhou Hong paused.

No clouds… what was funny about that?

Before he could ask further, Zhou Xiong had already turned and gone back inside.

Zhou Hong stood at the doorway, watching his brother’s back.

Then looked up at the sky again.

He scratched his head, still not understanding.

Zhou Yi came over and stood beside him.

“Uncle.”

“Mm?”

“Is my father acting weird today?”

Zhou Hong thought about it.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Then what is he laughing at?”

Zhou Hong shook his head.

“Don’t know.”

The two of them stood at the doorway, watching the forging figure inside.

Zhou Xiong worked for a while, then smiled again.

This time Zhou Yi saw it clearly.

That wasn’t an ordinary smile.

It was the kind of smile someone has when they’re waiting for a show.

What show?

He didn’t know.

But he knew one thing—his father’s smile today was different.

Zhou Xiong kept forging.

“Clang.”

“Clang.”

As he worked, the thought surfaced again:

Someone was going to issue a self-criticism edict.

Li Shimin would stand on a high platform and admit his fault to the world.

Just imagining that scene was kind of interesting.

The corner of his mouth lifted again.

Higher than before.

“Heh…”

Another laugh slipped out.

Zhou Hong, working the bellows, secretly glanced at him.

Then quickly looked away.

He really felt his brother was acting strange today.

Almost like he was possessed.

Zhou Yi also secretly looked at his father while passing tools.

His father still had the same face.

But that smile never went away.

He lowered his head and kept passing tools.

Strangely, he felt a little happy.

He couldn’t explain why.

Just… happy.

Inside the workshop, the hammer kept falling.

“Clang.”

“Clang.”

Zhou Xiong suddenly stopped.

He looked at the furnace, and that thought surfaced again:

Someone was about to issue a self-criticism edict.

He shook his head.

Then smiled again.

This time, even louder.

Zhou Hong opened his mouth as if to say something.

But seeing his brother like that, he swallowed it back.

Forget it.

Let him laugh if he wants.

It wasn’t a bad thing anyway.

He lowered his head and kept working the bellows.