Reborn in '77, I have a job panel!

The students have upgraded their careers.

Although it's only level 1, and the system's evaluation is only "first grade level", this is just the beginning.

Next, there will be chefs, carpenters...

There's also the college entrance exam.

Qian Cheng closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep.

When Qian Cheng woke up, the room was already brightly lit.

Sunlight streamed in through the window covered with newspaper. He squinted, turned over, and felt weak all over, his mind still a little foggy.

What time was I reading last night?

The rooster crowed a second time?

He propped himself up and looked out into the room. The fire in the stove had gone out, and the room was quiet.

"Mom?" Qian Cheng called out.

No one answered.

Qian Cheng put on his cotton-padded coat and got off the kang (a heated brick bed). He went to the outer room. The stove was cold, and the pots and pans were all cleaned up. On the table, there were two cornbread buns covered with a bowl, and a bowl of cold boiled water next to them.

Qian Cheng touched the cornbread; it was still warm.

As they were eating, the courtyard gate creaked open, and Hou Yufen came in carrying a cloth bag. Seeing that Qian Cheng was awake, she said, "You're up? I left some rice for you in the pot."

"I'm eating." Qian Cheng took a bite of his cornbread. "Mom, where did you go?"

"I borrowed some pickled vegetables from your Aunt Li's house." Hou Yufen put the cloth bag on the table, opened it, and inside was half a bowl of pickled radish strips: "Eating cornbread alone is tasteless, so I ordered some pickled vegetables."

She glanced at Qian Cheng and said, "I called you once this morning, but you looked so sleepy, so I didn't call you again. How late were you reading last night?"

"I didn't notice, anyway, it was almost dawn," Qian Cheng said vaguely.

Hou Yufen sighed: "Reading is a good thing, but you have to take care of your health. You've just recovered from your illness, so don't overwork yourself again."

"Okay, Mom," Qian Cheng replied, finishing his cornbread and taking a sip of water. "What are we having for lunch? Should I cook?"

"No need, I've already arranged with your Aunt Li. We're having lunch at her house; they're making dumplings today, so you can come along too."

Qian Cheng thought for a moment and shook his head: "No, Mom, I'll go see my master. We agreed yesterday that I'd go learn the craft today."

Hou Yufen didn't insist: "Alright, go ahead, but remember not to go empty-handed, bring some pickled vegetables from our house."

"it is good."

After washing up, Qian Cheng changed into clean clothes, wrapped some pickled vegetables in oil paper, tucked them into his pocket, and went out.

The snow had melted a few days ago, and the roads were very muddy. Qian Cheng carefully chose to walk on the dry parts, but he still got mud splattered all over his trousers.

When we arrived at Zhang Changtian's house, it was just around mealtime.

The courtyard gate wasn't closed, and Qian Cheng walked straight in, hearing Zhang Mingxi's voice from inside: "Dad, dinner's ready."

He lifted the cotton curtain and entered the room, a wave of heat hitting him.

Food was laid out on the table in the main room, and Zhang Changtian was sitting at the table while Zhang Mingxi came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of soup.

"Qian Cheng?" Zhang Mingxi's eyes lit up when she saw him. "You're here? Have you eaten?"

Before Qian Cheng could speak, Zhang Changtian glanced at him sideways and said irritably, "Is that even a question? What time is it? He came all this way, he definitely hasn't eaten."

Qian Cheng chuckled: "Master is wise."

"You're such a jerk." Zhang Changtian waved his hand. "Sit down. Mingxi, get this kid a bowl of rice."

Zhang Mingxi smiled, turned around and went to the kitchen to get another set of bowls and chopsticks. Qian Cheng didn't stand on ceremony, took off his cotton-padded coat and hung it behind the door, then sat down at the table.

The food on the table was much more lavish than what Qian Cheng's family had. There was a large pot of stewed cabbage with vermicelli, which even contained a few slices of pork; a plate of scrambled eggs, which looked golden and delicious; a dish of pickled vegetables; and a small bowl of cornbread.

"Your master's family is living a good life," Qian Cheng remarked.

Zhang Changtian snorted: "Carpentry is a skill-based job, you won't starve. Just eat yours."

Qian Cheng first picked up a slice of scrambled eggs. The eggs were scrambled tenderly with plenty of oil, and they were smooth and delicious.

He then took a bite of the cabbage stew with glass noodles. The glass noodles had soaked up the broth, the cabbage was stewed until soft and tender, and although there wasn't much pork, it added to the flavor. The whole dish was savory and delicious.

In Qian Cheng's family, eggs were a rare treat, something they wouldn't eat except during holidays. Let alone using so much oil in stir-fries.

Zhang Mingxi served Qian Cheng a bowl of soup, a light and refreshing cabbage and tofu soup, which was perfect for cutting through the richness of the soup.

"Did you read again last night?" Zhang Mingxi asked in a low voice.

"Yes." Qian Cheng nodded, "Until dawn."

"Don't push yourself too hard, your health is important."

"Know."

Zhang Changtian listened to the two talking without interrupting, and simply kept his head down and ate.

But Qian Cheng noticed that the old man's lips seemed to twitch slightly.

After dinner, Zhang Mingxi was clearing the dishes when Qian Cheng got up to help, but Zhang Changtian stopped him: "Come here, do you remember how to make the stool I taught you yesterday?"

"I remember," Qian Cheng said.

"Then make one yourself today." Zhang Changtian pointed to the woodworking shed. "I've prepared all the wood for you, and the tools are all over there. Go get them yourself."

"Okay."

Qian Cheng entered the carpentry shed. The shed was very tidy, with planes, saws, and files hanging on the walls and some wood piled on the floor.

Near the window was a wooden board that Zhang Changtian had half-planed yesterday, and next to it was the wooden ruyi that Qian Cheng had made yesterday.

Hmm... to be precise, it should be a back scratcher.

Qian Cheng picked up the back scratcher, looked at it, shook his head, and put it down again.

He first looked at the timber that Zhang Changtian had prepared for him.

It consists of several poplar planks, which are soft and easy to work with, making them suitable for practice.

Qian Cheng estimated that it would be enough to make a small chair.

But he didn't rush to make a move.

He's two points short of leveling up his carpentry profession, and he wants to level that up first.

What are you doing?

Qian Cheng looked around and saw some scraps piled up in the corner, all small pieces and strips of wood, worthless, usually used as firewood.

That's all.

He picked out several wooden strips of roughly the same thickness, and then found a thin wooden board about the size of his palm.

What do we need to do?

He's tired of using back scratchers.

After thinking about it, Qian Cheng decided to make a wooden clothespin, the kind of old-fashioned clothespin made by splitting a wooden strip in the middle, fixing the end with wire, and serrulating the head.

This thing is simple, but it requires a certain degree of finger dexterity.

Qian Cheng first measured the dimensions and drew lines on the wooden strip. Then he carefully sawed it, not cutting it completely through, but only cutting to two-thirds of the depth.

This step is crucial.

If you cut too shallow, the clamps won't open; if you cut too deep, they'll break easily.

Qian Cheng held his breath and steadily pushed the saw.

Wood chips fell down one after another.

Carpentry Proficiency +1

A notification flashed before my eyes.

Qian Cheng was secretly pleased and continued.

After sawing, use a file to smooth the cut edges and remove burrs. Then saw the thin wooden board into two small squares, plan them flat, and use them to make the heads of the clamps.

Next comes trenching.

Carve a shallow groove at the end of the wooden strip, insert the small square you made, and then glue it in place.

These days, there's no modern wood glue; we use fish glue, which is made by boiling fish bladders until they dissolve. It has good adhesion, but it dries slowly.

Qian Cheng applied the glue, tied it tightly with a rope, and set it aside to dry.

While he was at it, he made a second one.