Chapter Twenty-Four: Fulfillment

The old village chief stood tall and proud, waving to the crowd with an air of benevolence. Who hasn’t fantasized about holding office? People, the older they get, the more they love to worry and meddle in affairs! This land-reclamation team was, in fact, specially created by Qin Zhen for the old village chief. There was little true danger involved, unlike with the village guard, where one’s life might be at stake at any moment. Most of the tasks were minor but necessary, the sort of affairs that let the old chief shine.

“You have three days to think it over. In the meantime, you may walk around the village as you please. We’ll help you get your houses built in the meantime,” Qin Zhen said, then walked over to the old chief. “Chief, aren’t there some empty houses in the village? Let’s let them stay there for now.”

People died every year in the village; though the fishing village was small, there were always a few empty houses. The old chief agreed at once.

“No problem. Liu Quan! Take some men and tidy up those places!”

“Got it!” Liu Quan clapped his hands. “Everyone, come with me.”

After the meeting, the refugees gathered together.

“Sister, which team should we join?” Shan Hai asked, a bit uneasy.

“Weaving, I think. After all, I mended all my fellow disciples’ robes in the temple. I’ve got some experience,” Daoist Nun Miaoyun joked. “What? Are you, a grown man, going to join me at the loom?”

“I’m a man! How could I weave cloth?” Shan Hai replied indignantly.

“Little Daoist, join the village guard with us,” Chen Shu called out with a laugh. “You’re strong. Don’t waste it!”

“I’m not going with you!” Shan Hai pouted, clearly unconvinced. “I’d rather go fishing!”

“Well!” Chen Shu laughed even harder. “If you dare join the fishing crew, I’ll admit you’ve got guts!”

The fishing team was far more dangerous than the village guard. Shan Hai didn’t know the inside story and thought Chen Shu was just trying to provoke him. With his fiery temper, how could he resist? With a cold snort, he immediately went off to find Liu Quan and sign up.

Arriving in a rush the night before, Miaoyun and the others hadn’t had a chance to look around. Now was the perfect opportunity to explore the fishing village.

Unlike other villages, this one had earthen walls and watchtowers. The villagers didn’t have that air of despair or gloom; instead, the place buzzed with energy and enthusiasm.

Much of the land was lying fallow, but strange-looking wooden machines stood neatly arranged among the fields, draped with cloth to provide some shade from wind and sun. Women sat on wooden stools, working the treadles with laughter and chatter. Thread passed through wooden wedges, weaving into cloth that nearly filled the warehouse to the ceiling.

“What’s this?”

“It’s not like the spinning wheels we’ve seen before! How odd!”

Miaoyun leaned in, curiosity brimming. “Excuse me, but what is this?”

Liu Juan, who was weaving, looked up with a smile and explained, “This is a loom that Zhen’er modified, specially for weaving cloth.”

“Qin Zhen made this?” Miaoyun was stunned.

He certainly didn’t look like a master of woodcraft—weren’t carpenters supposed to be old men, gray and hunched?

“Come try it out. Everyone who’s used it says it’s wonderful.” Liu Juan offered her seat and began explaining how to operate the machine.

Miaoyun sat down, and under the curious gaze of the others, pressed the treadle.

A strange, indescribable sensation washed over her.

“If we join the weaving team, would this be our daily work? Nothing else?” She reluctantly got up, unable to resist asking.

“Unless something unexpected happens, you’ll work four hours a day. The rest of the time is yours to do as you please,” Liu Juan replied.

The main uncertainty was the number of looms. Right now, demand far exceeded supply, and the villagers queued up for their turn. When these outsiders would get their chance, it was hard to say.

“Only four hours of work a day?” The women exclaimed in surprise.

“Don’t complain, that’s the rule Zhen’er set. The looms all belong to his family, so he makes the rules,” Liu Yan’er chimed in. “He must have told you already? Working here gets you two meals a day, and if you complete your four hours, you earn three coins as wages.”

“What?!” Exclamations filled the air, even Miaoyun was dumbfounded.

In the mountains, laborers worked ten hours a day, sometimes without food, and a careless word could earn them a beating from the bandits.

But here, not only was food provided, there was also a wage!

This was far, far better than being a slave—almost a life of immortals!

Could such good fortune really exist in this world?

“Is it true? Girl, you’re not tricking us, are you?” One woman, trembling with excitement, grabbed Liu Yan’er’s hand, fearing it was all a joke.

Liu Juan gently separated them, shielding Liu Yan’er behind her and replied warmly, “Our Zhen’er never lies.”

She paused, then added, “But there aren’t many looms right now, and everyone in the village is waiting their turn. If you want to work, sign up early. The sooner you do, the sooner you’ll get your chance.”

“Me! I’ll sign up!”

“Me too! I want to join the weaving team!”

The women surged forward, afraid to miss their chance.

Even Miaoyun found herself tempted.

But she didn’t make a hasty decision. She planned to observe a bit longer, learn about all the other teams, and then choose.

At that moment, Li Han’s father arrived, pushing a cart piled high with food.

Steaming hot buns exuded a savory aroma, wild greens mixed with fish gave off an irresistible scent, and the fish soup—its surface shimmering with oil and flecked with cabbage flowers—made the villagers, who hadn’t tasted meat in days, drool with longing.

Don’t be fooled by Li Han’s father’s limp—his cooking was excellent. Qin Zhen had even built him a wheeled cart so he could handle all the village meals.

“Heavens, this food is amazing! They even have fish and meat!”

“Look at the oil on that soup! Just one sip must be heavenly!”

“What’s the big deal?” Li Han’s father grinned. “A few days ago, we even had roast rabbit—that’s real flavor! Now the village is poor, so we have to settle for fish.”

Was this even something a person should say?

They watched as Liu Juan and the others set aside their work, queued up for food, joy and satisfaction written all over their faces.

Quietly, something shifted in Miaoyun and her companions. The hesitation they’d felt about joining the fishing village was replaced by anticipation.

At this moment, their desire to become part of the village was overwhelming.

“Come get your food too,” Li Han’s father called out to Miaoyun and the others.

“We can have some too?” Miaoyun asked, surprised and delighted.

“It’s Zhen’er’s arrangement.”

Li Han’s father placed a bun and a bowl of fish soup in Miaoyun’s hands. The warmth seeped into her, chasing away the chill of an outsider.

“We can’t give you meat, but there’s plenty of fish soup.”

Children’s laughter drifted on the breeze, carefree and sweet.

The women, weaving in groups, sat together in cheerful camaraderie.

Miaoyun smiled, her mind made up.

“How should I address you?”

“Just call me Old Li.”

“Old Li, I noticed your leg seems injured. I know a bit of medicine—perhaps I could take a look?”