Zhao Hanzhang nodded repeatedly. “Thank you for the reminder, elder. You are older, so I’ll listen to you.”

The elder nodded with satisfaction, glanced again at Fu Tinghan, shouldered his shovel and went to dig on the other side.

Fu Tinghan: …

He turned to look at Zhao Hanzhang and saw her looking at him with amusement, smiling until tears nearly came out.

Fu Tinghan’s spirit suddenly calmed. He just watched her enjoy herself, his eyes also filling with smiles.

After she had laughed enough, he said, “Hurry up and dig.”

Zhao Hanzhang and Fu Tinghan and the others dug alongside them for a good half hour. When enough excavated mud had accumulated, they dragged over bamboo baskets and began scooping soil into them.

Some people also had to load into hemp sacks. There were people specifically responsible for transporting the loaded mud out.

Fu Tinghan had been burying his head in loading mud. The dark-faced youth led another team over, arranged them in another location, then came to check on the situation. Seeing this, his expression changed immediately. He went up to ask Fu Tinghan, “How much mud have you transported out?”

Fu Tinghan said, “Five baskets and twelve sacks.”

Upon hearing this, the dark-faced youth’s expression eased slightly. He asked, “Where are the numbers you recorded? Let me see.”

Fu Tinghan paused, stopped his movements and straightened his back, shaking his head. “I didn’t use a brush to record them—I kept track in my mind.”

The dark-faced youth: “…Can what you keep in your mind be accurate? Use a brush to record!”

Although Fu Tinghan found it troublesome, since this was his requirement, he would comply. So he went to a bamboo basket to pick up the brush and paper, uncapped the brush to dip a bit of ink and wrote the characters for basket and sack, then recorded tally marks behind them. After completing one set, glancing to see two more baskets of mud had been filled in the distance and were being dragged out, he smoothly added two more marks.

He put down the brush and paper, secured them, picked up his shovel and returned to his position to continue loading mud. He also had to help bring the excavated mud from the ditches up.

Although the dark-faced youth had yelled at him, Fu Tinghan didn’t record every single sack and basket that was dragged out immediately. He still kept track in his mind, and only when the dark-faced youth walked this way did he leisurely put down his shovel and come forward to pick up the brush and paper to record.

The dark-faced youth didn’t know he was recording on the spot. Walking over to see him earnestly recording, he nodded with satisfaction. He glanced at the numbers on the paper, then took it to find the people dragging mud, questioning them one by one. He also went to ask the clerk counting on the other end. After confirming there were no errors, he brought it back to Fu Tinghan, praising, “Well done. Don’t record too few, but also don’t record too many. If we discover you’re falsifying, you’ll all be expelled too, understand?”

Fu Tinghan acknowledged the order.

As soon as he left, Fu Tinghan was about to put down the paper and brush when the refugee who had received two sacks of mud, following custom, called out in Fu Tinghan’s direction, “Two sacks of mud here—”

Fu Tinghan had been about to return to dig mud. The corner of his eye caught the dark-faced youth turning back to look. He could only silently pick up the brush and paper to record.

The dark-faced youth left satisfied to inspect the other teams.

Fu Tinghan resignedly put down the paper and brush and returned to his position to continue shoveling soil.

By now the elder’s attitude toward him had improved considerably. He couldn’t help but praise, “Young man, good memory.”

People on the same team also had an extremely good impression of him. Although his work was somewhat slow, as a literate team leader, he could completely slack off without working, like other teams—just holding a brush and a sheet of paper standing in front recording.

Yet he spent most of his time holding a shovel doing hard labor, only occasionally picking up the brush, recording without errors. Everyone would find it hard not to have a good impression.

This young man was good!

Even the elder spoke to Zhao Hanzhang again. “This young man is good—he probably won’t become a heartless man.”

Zhao Hanzhang couldn’t help but laugh again. Fu Tinghan looked at her helplessly.

Digging soil and loading mud were both very arduous work. Even Zhao Hanzhang felt somewhat breathless, and then her palms hurt from the friction, but she also sensed the pull on her arm muscles. She began making her movements more rhythmic.

She silently did the rough work, sensing the vigorous life force emanating from her companions.

Indeed, although their clothing was thin and their feet wore broken cloth shoes or straw sandals, they just radiated vigorous life force. Everyone worked very hard, with rarely any sorrow on their faces. Faces swinging hoes and shovels could even show satisfaction and smiles.

Especially when the gongs and drums sounded—at the first clang, they immediately dropped their tools in hand and took off running.

Clearly everyone was here for the first day, but they just reacted so nimbly. In an instant they surpassed Zhao Hanzhang and Fu Tinghan, rushing in a throng toward where the gongs and drums sounded.

Zhao Hanzhang reacted and also immediately dropped her tools, pulling Fu Tinghan to run toward that place. Then in the crush of people, holding her wooden token, she received two mixed-grain steamed buns and a bowl of bean sprout soup.

Although it was bean sprout soup, they gave quite a few bean sprouts. It was just that…

Zhao Hanzhang looked around at people pulling two chopsticks from their sleeves, from their chests, and even from their hair. She turned to look at Fu Tinghan.

Fu Tinghan also silently looked at her.

Zhao Hanzhang stuffed the two steamed buns in her hands into his arms, then took the two steamed buns from his left hand, placing her bowl in his left hand as she stood up. “I’ll go break off tree branches. Wait here for me.”

She took off running toward where there were trees, and before long found a miscellaneous tree, broke off a relatively thin branch, then casually broke out two pairs of chopsticks.

She handed Fu Tinghan one pair. The two of them squatted on the ground with the refugees, eating steamed buns while consuming bean sprouts.

Fu Tinghan ate very carefully. He wasn’t quite accustomed to eating these mixed-grain steamed buns with lots of wheat bran, so he needed to chew for a long time before swallowing.

But Zhao Hanzhang ate fiercely, eating while also chatting with people. “How many days do you plan to work?”

“Naturally as many days as we can work.”

Zhao Hanzhang nodded and asked, “Are you all from Luyang?”

“I am.”

“I’m not.”

Of the workers they recruited this time, only a portion were refugees. Quite a considerable portion were local Luyang refugees and impoverished common people.

Anyway, with the New Year approaching, everyone had nothing to do. The government office was recruiting workers, saying they’d pay wages and provide two meals—everyone was willing to come.

Quite a few people came. Adding those who wanted to enter the Benevolent Care Hall as refugees, cooking was basically their responsibility. Some whose health was still acceptable also had to do light work in the fields. Anyway, everyone was put to use, even six or seven-year-old children sniffling as they moved bricks, one by one onto carts or one by one off carts.

They all knew this was to build the houses they’d live in later, so they ran around barefoot working very cheerfully.

After the group finished eating and stood up, ready to return, they saw someone rummaging through their tools. Everyone was startled and immediately rushed forward. “What are you doing?”

The other party saw them, immediately dropped the tools in their hands, then grabbed their tools and ran.

Zhao Hanzhang followed everyone running up to look. She saw that several tools at their worksite had been switched. Some wooden handles were loose—that was one thing—but some hoe blades had notches.

Everyone was furious enough to burst, crowding around Fu Tinghan to go complain. Then the dark-faced youth berated Fu Tinghan bloody in front of everyone. “…Can’t even watch your own tools—what use are you?”

Fu Tinghan, whose own tools hadn’t actually been lost: …

The dark-faced youth finally roared, “Figure it out yourselves. If the work isn’t finished, wages will be docked!”