Chapter 208: Whisper of Redemption

Dongying, outside Zhenbei City, the Purification Facility.

This place is Wang Heng's "scrapyard".

Those who collapse from overwork, illness, or accidents in the mines and workshops—these Japanese are all sent here uniformly. There are no doctors, no medicine, only rows of crude shacks, and a growing stench of death.

To Wang Heng, these people have lost their value as "ore" and become "slag" to be disposed of. Gathering them here is merely to prevent them from spreading plague in the city and affecting those "ore" still able to work.

However today, an unexpected guest arrived at this place of despair.

Wang Wenyan, a mild-mannered middle-aged scholar who even looks somewhat frail, wearing a clean Wang Family steward's robe, his face bearing a gentle smile, is out of place amid the filth and despair here.

He was personally selected by Wang Che and dispatched from Yangzhou as an "Edification Envoy".

Wang Heng accompanied him, standing at the entrance of the Purification Facility, his brows furrowed, his face showing undisguised disgust and impatience.

"Mr. Wang, are you sure you want to go in?" Wang Heng said, pinching his nose, his voice muffled, "Inside, the stench fills the air, and disease runs rampant."

Wang Wenyan is not of Wang Family blood, but his talent and learning have earned the family's trust.

In the order sent by the Head of Family, it stated that Wang Wenyan's mission was to find individuals who could be molded into "warriors." Wang Heng scoffed at this.

Wang Wenyan, however, seemed not to notice the foul odor; his smile remained gentle.

Governor, in the eyes of a true general, there are no weak or sick—only people placed in the wrong position.

He ignored Wang Heng's dissuasion and walked straight into the Purification Facility.

The sight before him was like hell.

In the shacks, on the ground, everywhere lay dying Japanese. Some groaned in pain, some wept softly, while many merely stared with hollow eyes, numb, awaiting death's arrival.

Seeing Wang Wenyan, this splendidly dressed Wang Family member enter, their eyes held pleading and longing, hoping he could take them away from here.

Wang Heng's guards, habitually gripping the hilts of their waists, watched the surroundings warily.

Wang Wenyan, however, waved his hand, signaling them to step back.

His first act was to have people bring several large buckets of clean water and several baskets of steaming wheat cakes.

Have some water.

Eat something.

He personally handed a wheat cake to an old man curled in the corner, reduced to skin and bones.

The old man's cloudy eyes were filled with wariness and incomprehension; he dared not take it.

Wang Wenyan did not insist; he simply placed the wheat cake gently beside the old man, then walked to the center of the Purification Facility and spoke loudly:

I know you do not understand us.

His opening remark left everyone stunned.

Why can others outside work normally, live normally, even enjoy leisure, while you are thrown into this waiting-to-die place merely because your bodies are weak, ill, or even disabled?

His voice was calm and sincere, sounding very affable.

You feel this is unfair. You feel you ought to be the ones valued and respected.

Some Japanese's eyes gradually gained light; they felt understood and struggled to sit up.

But have you ever considered…? Wang Wenyan's tone shifted.

Why is it that you bear all this?

Why do some live like the Han, some can become overseers, at worst serve as laborers, earning wealth with their own hands, while you can only scrounge in the mud, ultimately tossed here like trash?

Why are others healthy while you are tormented by illness and pain?

Each of his questions was like an awl, viciously piercing the already numb hearts of these Japanese.

Yes, why?

This is a question they have asked themselves countless times in the dead of night.

Because… Wang Wenyan glanced around, his gaze sweeping over each painful, bewildered face.

This is a punishment.

Your bodies endure more suffering than others', and your fate is more tortuous than others', because your souls bear a heavier karmic burden than theirs.

Karma? a Japanese who understood some Buddhism muttered to himself.

Exactly, it is karma! Wang Wenyan's voice suddenly rose, "It is the sinful karma you committed in countless past lives of reincarnation! Slaughter, greed, envy… these karmic bonds are like shackles, binding your souls, forcing you in this life to repay with bodily suffering!"

Your ailments are not ailments; they are karma burning your souls! Your hunger is not hunger; it is the retribution for your past-life greed!

His words were like a devil's whisper, exploding in the hearts of those already broken by despair and pain.

They did not understand profound doctrines, but they were willing to believe in reincarnation and cause and effect, hoping that in their next life they could become exalted beings.

Wang Wenyan's words, in a way they could comprehend, gave their endless suffering a "reasonable" explanation.

So… our suffering is all because… we ourselves are guilty?

Once this thought arose, it spread like a vine, wildly growing in their hearts.

It quietly transformed their resentment toward the Wang Family's unfairness and their envy of others' lives into fear of their own 'sin'.

Wang Heng stood afar, watching all this, brows locked. He did not understand what Wang Wenyan was saying, but he could sense that the atmosphere in the Purification Facility was undergoing a strange change.

The numbness in the Japanese's eyes was slowly fading, replaced by… a deeper despair and confusion.

What the hell is this Wang up to?

Wang Wenyan ignored Wang Heng, gazing at those before him whose psychological defenses had been utterly shattered by his words; his smile grew more pitiful.

He knew the first step had been completed.

He had successfully shifted the root of their suffering from external 'oppressors' to internal 'personal sin'.

Now, what he must do is point them toward a path of 'redemption'.

A dying old man lying on the ground struggled, reaching out his withered hand to grab the corner of Wang Wenyan's garment.

His voice was weak and trembling.

Sir… then… what… should we do?

"We... can still be... saved?"

This question voiced the hearts of everyone present.

Wang Wenyan slowly squatted down, grasping the old man's icy hand; his gaze was full of compassion for heaven and pity for mankind, as if a deity had descended to the mortal realm.

He leaned close to the old man's ear, using a voice only the two of them could hear, and whispered:

"Of course."

"The path to redemption lies not in the next life, but in this one."

"It needs your repentance to pave the way, and the Wang Family is here to help you."