Chapter 62: Inspecting Moyun Temple, Part 1

Yang Er was not as lucky as Jiang Shisan. Like the majority, he couldn't remember clearly, nor did he want to remember, those convoluted "scriptures." Originally they were going to send him off to haul dirt, but luckily the Steward Transmigrator had taken a liking to him from the very start, also thought he was the right age and liked his cleverness, so he assigned him to look after the sick.

Yang Er had initially been intending to take advantage of a moment when no one was watching and escape this evil temple in the dead of night. However, one evening, just after he had scouted the wall and before he could act, gunshots rang out behind the temple. Early the next morning, he was called out to bury bodies. When he discovered that the two brave forerunners who had already fled into the woods had been shot dead from behind with some kind of bird blunderbuss, Yang Er's thoughts of escape were extinguished.

For now, he could only bury his hatred for Hu Zhengqi deep in his heart and temporarily, honestly, work for the Transmigrators.

Still, looking after the sick had its perks. Ever since Jiang Shisan moved out, every day or two he could secretly get a chicken leg, or a slice of fatty meat, for his life-saving benefactor and newly acknowledged big brother. While wolfing it down, Yang Er always wanted to remind this brother who suited his own tastes so well of one thing: "This place reeks of strangeness; it doesn't seem like the way a Buddhist sect saves people."

Yet every time he was about to open his mouth, he would always hear Jiang Shisan endlessly praising these days that were like paradise, and Yang Er could only silently swallow his words back down.

A fifteen-year-old youth naturally couldn't consider too much. From now on, he only needed to enjoy the benefits brought to him by this attribute of "Top Student," and besides, this was just the beginning—the benefits were far from over.

A few days later, in the morning, just as Jiang Shisan was sitting in a side hall of Moyun Temple, head bent over calculating a math problem, a sudden clamor rose outside the hall. The next moment, a crowd surged in noisily. Leading the way at the front was none other than Abbot Pudu. Surrounded by a group of large men like stars clustering around the moon was a tall figure, dressed in a Huzhou silk Daoist robe, gently waving a folding fan in his hand—a young master type.

Seeing such a formation, without waiting to be told, the people in the hall who had learned quite a few "rules" hurriedly rose and stood at attention.

As Jiang Shisan stood up, he stole a glance outside. He noticed that Hu Xian, Chief Steward Hu, who had a ferocious reputation in the temple and was specifically in charge of disciplining newcomers, was actually waiting outside the hall door. He immediately understood that the person arriving today must be someone of high status.

The next moment, however, these people walked straight toward Jiang Shisan. The usually dignified and solemn Great Master Pudu was today slightly obsequious. Pointing at Jiang Shisan, he smiled faintly: "This one is a Top Student. So hungry he can't even stand steady, yet he can learn over ten characters a day. Exaggerated to the extreme."

"Heh, this kind of person has a killing aura, at minimum a Three-Stripe. Back in my school days, I always dodged out of their way." The young master chuckled, uttering a sentence in a strange accent that the youth could not understand.

A chorus of sycophantic dry laughter rippled out from all around. A man beside the young master, in his thirties, wearing a soft cap and looking like a steward, opened his mouth to ask: "Are there many of this type?"

Monk Pudu smiled bitterly at this: "Where would we get so many? Those who can keep up with the literacy speed are only three or five in total." Saying this, the monk patted Jiang Shisan's shoulder with gratification: "Of this level, he's the only one."

Jiang Shisan now kept his head lowered, not daring to breathe loudly, his mind a complete chaos. Luckily, the next moment the young master cheerfully asked him a question, and this sentence he actually understood: "Brother, what's your name?"

"Replying to the Lord, this humble one is Jiang Shisan." The youth hurriedly bowed and answered.

The young master listened, then smiled and shook his head: "Why is it always this kind of name? This Top Student should also have a name with a bit more grandeur, don't you think?"

The next moment, someone immediately slapped the back of Jiang Shisan's neck. He heard a low shout by his ear: "Are you not yet thanking the Young Master for bestowing a name?"

The youth jolted, and as if by conditioned reflex, both knees hit the ground: "Shisan bows in thanks to the Young Master for bestowing a name."

The young master laughed heartily. With a "swish," he flicked open his fan and waved it gently a few times: "You all are forcing a duck onto a perch, aren't you? Very well, I'll just come up with a name. Hmm, the surname Jiang... there don't seem to be many famous ones surnamed Jiang, eh? Jiang Kun? No good, no good. The only one I can think of right now is Jiang Ziya. Hmm, then let's call him Jiang Shang. How is this name?"

"Good! A fine name!"

"This name is not bad, it exudes grandeur!"

"Assisting King Wu in punishing the tyrant Zhou—Jiang Shang, this name has great practical significance. Chief Executive Cao's skill in naming is truly superb!"

A huge wave of flattery rolled in from all around.

The young master looked utterly pleased with himself. He withdrew his sandalwood fan and tapped it against his palm: "You flatter me, you flatter me. Old brothers, you've gone too far, too far."

They came in a whirlwind and left in a whirlwind. After a group of people rushed in and left the youth with a new name, as if they had accomplished some great task, they turned around, chatting and laughing, and exited the hall door. Only the freshly minted "Jiang Shang" was left standing there, staring blankly, utterly baffled.

As one "special project" after another was successively completed, and as "that day" drew near, the Transmigrator Group began a strategic contraction. In other words, they weren't going to stir up trouble recently; they would peacefully digest their existing resources and prepare for the expedition.

With this purpose in mind, over the past few days, the important figures in the Company had formed a Supervisory Team to collectively inspect various outposts. Today it was Moyun Temple's turn. The main reason everyone came was to see how this "Refugee Resettlement Camp," into which quite a few resources had been invested, was actually being constructed.

The young master was naturally Cao Chuan, Chairman Cao. Since they currently needed to conserve Transmigration Counts as much as possible, no matter which spacetime he stopped in now, he always had to rest on-site for a period before deciding, based on the situation, to cross over again. These past few days he had been fattening up in Tangzhuang, and today he happened to come along with Xia Xianze's group to Moyun Temple to relax.

After the group finished touring the "Moyun Temple School" and emerged from the dilapidated side hall under the corridor, they passed through a row of temporarily erected thatched sheds. After ascending a few stone steps, they reached the location of Moyun Temple's former front hall. Right now, a group of refugees, stripped to the waist, were busy on the Construction Site, sweat streaming down their backs.

Moyun Temple's original front hall and main hall had long been reduced to broken walls by lightning fire. The refugees gathered by the temple had picked out all the usable wood, bricks, and tiles. The remaining waste was carried to the back of the mountain to fill gullies. Then they brought sand and gravel from outside the temple, filled it into the foundation Pit, and tamped it firm with wooden stakes, preparing to build houses.

"Moyun Temple's geographical location is not bad, it's just that the inside is a bit dilapidated. But that's fine; we can just tear it all down and rebuild anyway. These people are idle anyway." Feng Jun led everyone forward as he introduced: "Right now is Phase One. The plan is to lay the foundation well and first temporarily build single-story dormitories. For Phase Two, we'll wait for the steel bars."

The accompanying Transmigrators from the Industrial Department immediately rolled their eyes upon hearing this.

Xia Xianze, wearing a soft cap and looking every bit the old steward, coughed once and no longer steered the topic toward something as unreliable as steel bars. He changed direction: "I see the mental outlook of these laborers is quite good. The colleagues from the Human Resources Department seem to have put in genuine effort."