Black Iron’s Glory

Chapter 9: Two Paths

Mrs Fields, who has already brought Little Browick back to feed him milk, has also expressed her dissatisfaction with Albert: “Abel, you are our eldest son, brother and sister's brother, but in fact you have never fulfilled your responsibility to be a big brother and become an example to them, just as you never hugged Little Booker, Little Booker doesn't like you, even if you go near him, you cry...

Claude has changed a lot since his illness healed, and I often see him hiding in a quiet corner reading books, and his grades at school have improved, and the last time I met Wickham teaching in the country on the street, he bragged about Claude. Now Claude knows a lot, he helps me with housework at home, he takes care of my siblings, Anna and Little Booker both like him, and he's often obsessed with telling stories.

And you keep looking at him with an old eye, and you hate him. He's your brother, not your enemy. Abel, you're an adult now, you have a formal job, but that doesn't mean you have the power to reprimand your younger siblings at home. And you treat your home like a hotel. I don't usually see your shadow except when you come back to eat and sleep. Especially if you let Anna wash your underwear and socks, she's only 12 years old...

As a mother, I don't want to know where you spend your monthly salary, and I wouldn't ask you to subsidize the household, but can you at least afford a laundry maid? Anna is weak, you're her big brother, so she won't refuse your request, but if Claude finds out about this, I'm sure you won't feel comfortable... ”

“Come on, don't say that.” Mr. Morsan interrupted his wife's complaint and turned his attention to his eldest son: “Abel, I think it's time you hired a long-time laundry maid to solve your own life's problems, see what I mean? ”

Albert nodded stifledly: "I see. ”

Mr. Morsan pulled out his beloved black mulberry ivory pipe from his clothes pocket, took out a tobacco bag, picked up some tobacco wire and stuffed it in his cigarette butt, lit it with matches, took a deep smoke and leaned comfortably against the back of the chair. He decided to seriously talk to his eldest son:

“Abel, the path I've chosen for you is to become a civilian government official. Before you were 18 years old, you could enjoy the convenience of my father as a national, but now that you're 20 years old, legally you're an adult, and my national status is no longer useful to you. You are now only an administrator of civilian status, and it is up to you to make your own efforts and perseverance to change your identity.

I recommended you to Sir Fox because I didn't want you to spend more than a decade in the position of executive clerk, like my father. Sir Fox, on the other hand, has been able to reduce this process by half the time, but if you can count on his trust and commitment, I can't give you much help in that regard, and it's all up to you. I pointed you in the right direction. Whether this path can reach its goal or not will depend on your own feet... ”

Mr. Morsan took another smoke and slowly spit it out, letting the smoke surround his face: “Unlike you, Claude, he is a physiologist, fit and responsive. He is sixteen years old this year, graduating only at the end of next year, and returning to civilian status at the age of eighteen with two years left for adulthood. Your mother and I have decided to send him to the Nubian mainland when he graduates next year. Jerry Hawthorne. Viscount Van Cruise was governor of the Tyrsim area there, and he was the nominal godfather of Claude, so Claude would enlist with him to get his carry.

Abel, you don't have to worry about Claude dividing your property. Enlistment is an honorable path, but it's a dangerous one, and you could lose your life at any moment in the war. I, like you, have no adventure in my bones or the courage to face the fire on the battlefield, so we all chose the civilian path.

But the road to enlistment is full of opportunities, and if you can do well on the battlefield, you will soon become a national and possibly even receive a seal of arms. Compared to our civilian journey, this road is moving too fast, and perhaps our family of Fields, will need Claude to help them in the future, if he's lucky.

That is why I sent him to Viscount Cruz, a newly occupied area where fighting and rebellion continued, but where casualties were not significant, Claude should not be exposed to too much danger. Tensions have increased in the border areas of our Kingdom over the past two years. The Kingdom of Nasri has once again organized an anti-Olympic coalition in which almost all the kingdoms and principalities of the eastern part of the continent have joined. I doubt that in another year or two there will be another regional war. Claude was also sent to the Nubian mainland to avoid taking part in this war... "

Mr. Morsan took off the pipe and sighed, saying that, according to an unwritten divine rule in the Kingdom, physical students in each country were in fact reservists in the army, whereas the Act on the Rights and Interests of the Four Minorities provided that, regardless of whether the families of these students were nationals or not, the students automatically became civilians when they reached the age of eighteen, that the national identity of their fathers could no longer serve them, and that they had to go to the army to work for their national identity.

Claude rushed down the stairs with a cowhide backpack.

“Father, Mother, I'm gone.” Ignoring Albert sitting at the table, Claude broke out of the house with his hands on the fat face of little Browick's baby.

Little Browick had his face twisted and his mouth was about to cry. Mrs. Fields hurriedly stuffed the eggs in the spoon. Little Browick tasted wrong and hurried to spit out. For a moment, he forgot about his brother screwing him.

“Baby, eat the eggs. Eat the eggs before they grow faster.” Mrs. Fields began to fool him.

“The eggs are not sweet, I don't want to eat them...” Little Browick shook his head like a wave drum.

“Eggs are salted, there's no sweetness...” Mrs. Fields looked silly.

“Never mind, just honey him and make sure he brushes his teeth again after eating.” Mr. Morsan stood up: “I'm done, too. Time to go to the town hall. ”

“That's right, Paney.” Mr. Morsan took his hat off the hanger and turned to his wife's nickname: “Yesterday I said hello to Raul at the sanitary facility, who would send someone to clean the dung tank in the morning, and you would tip the cleaners three sonars. Besides, I'm having dinner with some people at night. Someone will send me something by noon. You just have to take it. Although the banquet is arranged at home, all you have to do is arrange it. I talked to Piedad at the tavern. He will bring someone to cook in the afternoon and you won't have to be busy. ”

Mrs. Fields nodded: "Okay, I get it, don't worry. ”

Mr. Morsan came to Mrs Fields and leaned down to kiss her and Browick Jr., and said to Albert, “You have to be there at the party at night, Abel, but you have to show humility and caution in this scene today in order to increase people's fondness for you. Understand? ”

Claude had just rushed out of the house and saw two teenagers in the same uniform standing in front of the store across the street waving at him.

“There you are. Where's Boa?” Claude stormed across the street and got to them.

Tall Verricolo. Fonseca, the second son of hunter Kubrick, whose father was a veteran, had participated in two foreign wars in the kingdom and his luck had been unharmed, but he had not done much credit on the battlefield. After 15 years of national service, he chose to retire, returned to his hometown to marry his wife, had a daughter the following year, and two more years later his wife had given birth to the son Velikro.

Ali Watson over there. Ottruni, although a little short, was strong, and his father was a captain, with a distant-water fishing boat called the Red Sea Shark at home, and sometimes the boat in his house also carried cargo part-time and was a famous figure in White Deer Town.

“Boa might be late. Are you getting the money?” Ali Watson asked.

Boa is a nickname, just like Eriksson is Ike and Vero is Vero. He's a famous businessman in White Deer Town. Podman's son, his full name is Boc Al. Podman. The three of them and Claude were friends and classmates at White Deer Town National High School.

The cause of the major illness of the former owner of the body, the Passover, was their relationship. That was last winter, when four of them decided to go fishing in the frozen White Deer Lake ice hole, and Claude accidentally fell into the ice hole. Fortunately, the three guys rescued him from the lake and sent him home, and as a result, Claude had a fever, which was then taken over by the passers-by. Because of this, none of them dared go to Claude's house to call the door now, afraid to see his parents.

“Well, I got it. My father gave it to a silver taller. And you?” Claude said.

“Well, I got it, too. My dad threw me a silver tower when he heard me say it.” Erickson answered proudly.

“What about you? Vero?”

“My sister said that she had no money at home, so she gave me two antelope furs and let me take them to the grocery store to sell them myself, no matter how much she sold.” Verikiro's response was obviously very dissatisfied with his sister's behavior.

Claude, it turns out that there's another package on Verricolo's foot that probably contains the two antelope furs his sister threw over.

“It's okay, Vero.” Claude consoled: “No matter how much these antelope furs are worth, with the three of us around, you don't have to worry about the equestrian training fee. Besides, according to our original plan, two people wrapped a training horse, and we actually got half the extra one. ”

A silver tower is needed if a horse is to be bagged for training. So four people decided to wrap two horses, which would save money and not leave the training horses empty, after all, nobody could stick to the horses all day. They can also make other plans for extra money.

“Hey, I'm coming.” A little chubby Boc Al came running over, and he greeted and turned to the stall selling lamb barbecues that was parked next to the street: “Give me a barbecue, I want that...”

“Cut into four pieces.” Erickson hastened to the next sentence.

Claude walked up to Boquer and stabbed him in the stomach with his hand: "Didn't you eat it this morning? I think you should lose some weight. It's okay to get hungry. ”

“What,” Bok Al opened Claude's paws: “I got up late in the morning and had a cup of black tea, and I ran all the way over to starve to death. ”

“Two sonars, please.” The owner handed it over and cut it into four pieces of lamb roast cakes.

So everybody grabbed a piece of it, and only Bok Al paid for it and muttered: “You're too much to grab my breakfast. ”

"I think Claude's right. You should lose weight. Eating less is good for your body. ”