Chang Geng politely smiled at her: "Don't mind it, by chance; I also have some topics to ask of Teacher Shen today. I will have my breakfast over at yifu's place."

In the end, he did not accept the food container. He proceeded to gather all the notes and papers on the table, putting them under his arm. He then grabbed the heavy sword hanging on the back door and left.

Teacher Shen was pulling up his sleeves and working in the yard to oil several pieces of steel armors that had been dismantled.

Steel armors were sent over by the officers and soldiers of the city's defensive force. The officers of Yanhui Town also had their own 'Mechanics Division', which specialized in maintaining military steel armors. However, the number of armors that required maintenance was too abundant, even with their best abilities, the workload was still too much to handle, thus they would look for help from Mechanics among the common folks from time to time.

"Chang Bei Shi *- Mechanics" were those who repaired steel armor and machines. They dealt with piles of iron all day, resembling the work of a craftsman. However, in the eyes of ordinary people, Mechanics and those who cut hair or fined one's nails were almost the same. It was a job that belonged to the 'lower class.' While it could put food on the table, it was not considered a grand profession.

*长臂师: lit. "Long Arm Master," a term that Priest made up to call mechanics in this universe

Teacher Shen was a scholarly man; no one understood why he had this unusual hobby. Not only did he like to mess around with them in his free time, but he also frequently used this skill to earn some money, demeaning his 'educated and refined' image quite a bit.

But Shen Shiliu - who entered the adolescent's dream by accident, was idly stretching his two long legs. He was sitting on the doorstep, leaning against the door frame as if there was not a single bone in his body, with an empty medicine bowl next to him - which he did not even bother to clean after he finished drinking it.

Shiliu stretched his lower back, reached out, and weakly waved his hand at Chang Geng: "My son, go fetch me my wine bottle."

Teacher Shen, whose hands were full of machine oil, his sweat trickling, said to Chang Geng: "Don't mind him, have you eaten yet?"

Chang Geng: "I haven't."

Teacher Shen turned his head and snarled at Shiliu: "Just got up in the morning and already lying around waiting to get fed! Why can't you help out a bit? Go clean some rice and cook a few bowls of porridge!"

Shen Shiliu tilted his head, deaf 'just enough,' and slowly asked: "Ah? What?"

"Let me," Chang Geng was already used to this scenario, "What kind of rice?"