Chapter 67: Something Off

On the road back to the city, inside the horse carriage, Chen Delin sat in the middle seat, and Chen Ying sat in the seat to the left.

Looking at his son resting with closed eyes, Chen Delin's gaze gradually took on an assessing quality.

"What's wrong with you today?"

Hearing this, Chen Ying opened his eyes.

"What does Father mean by that?"

Chen Delin narrowed his eyes slightly.

"You're off today, no—"

"To be more precise, ever since the Cheng Family came to Bei Huang, you've started becoming off."

Meeting his father's scrutinizing gaze, Chen Ying explained.

"Father, I was just thinking about the things we have to do, and the pressure weighs on my heart. Besides, you saw what happened earlier too—the Old Madam has actually discovered a new kind of grain!"

"And right under our very noses, all these years we never noticed it. The Cheng Family has only been here a few days, yet they've already found such a good thing."

"Aren't you surprised? Don't you want to ask about it clearly?"

Chen Delin withdrew his gaze.

"It is indeed very surprising."

Then he looked at Chen Ying again.

"Since you've brought up the matter of raising troops as well, I'll make things clear to you today."

"If the Cheng Family remains the guardian deity of Da Yin, I'll keep this thought buried in my heart for the rest of my life."

"But the Pingnan Marquis Residence was wronged, the entire Cheng Family was slaughtered to the last. Whether it's to demand justice for ourselves, or to fulfill the bond I and the Old Marquis and Old Madam share from years of acquaintance and going through life and death together—this matter absolutely must be done!"

As he spoke, a look of reminiscence and regret crossed his face.

"If it weren't for the Old Marquis, back then…"

"Yes, yes, yes, your son knows."

Chen Ying spoke up helplessly, cutting him off.

"The Old Marquis was your patron, he saved your life, he recognized your talent. If it weren't for the Old Marquis, I'm afraid you would have remained just a cook's assistant your whole life."

"You've said this many times from as far back as I can remember until now—my ears are about to grow calluses."

Chen Delin snorted.

"As long as you remember."

Thinking of Cheng Chengxuan, Chen Ying lowered his eyes and asked softly.

"Father, you said since Cheng Chengxuan didn't die, could the Pingnan Marquis and the Young Marquis also still be alive?"

Hearing this, Chen Delin felt a pang of sorrow and let out a heavy sigh.

"If they could have survived, that would naturally be best, but I'm afraid… it's hard to say."

"Still, it's good that Cheng Chengxuan has returned. Although he's General Cheng's adopted son, the Cheng Family treated him as their own, doted on him from childhood. His safe return is some comfort for the Old Madam and the others, I suppose."

Chen Ying nodded almost imperceptibly, his lips moved slightly, and he murmured softly.

"Yes, just an adopted son…"

Chen Delin leaned in closer, tilting his ear to listen carefully.

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing, I didn't say anything."

Chen Ying shook his head and said no more.

……

The father and son of the Chen Family brought a flock of sheep back to Beihuang City.

That very day, the people in the city saw several new notices posted on the bulletin board.

"Sheep farm recruiting helpers?"

"One qian of silver per month plus one dou of grain!"

"Look, there's another one—a weaving workshop, specifically recruiting women skilled in needlework and embroidery!"

"Two qian of silver per month, plus three dou of grain!"

A burly man blustered noisily.

"How is it that the womenfolk earn more than us big men?!"

Someone beside him replied.

"Then go argue it out with Lord Chen."

At these words, the burly man immediately deflated, shrinking his neck.

"I was just saying."

But no one mocked his cowardly look—in fact, almost no one even noticed him.

Everyone either hurried off to the City Guard Office to sign up, or rushed home to tell the women in their families the news.

Winter was about to arrive—who would complain about having too much grain?

In no time, the City Guard Office was overflowing with people.

Seeing this lively scene, Chen Ying couldn't help feeling worried.

When the time comes, these people won't just go through the motions during their woodcutting shifts, just so they can rush off to the sheep farm and workshop, will they?

But very soon, he realized he was wrong.

Because over the following month, when these people went to work cutting wood, they were extremely diligent, fast, and efficient.

What used to barely get done in four hours could now be finished in two.

And after finishing, every one of them was still full of energy, charging off in high spirits toward the sheep farm and workshop for the next shift.

"Don't be ridiculous — the sheep farm and the workshop together only have a little over twenty positions in total. One radish, one hole."

"So many people in the city are watching. If you get careless and sloppy during work and get dismissed, won't you regret it to death?"

After hearing the Subordinate's report, Chen Ying sneered inwardly.

"Great, so on a normal day you've all been dragging your feet for me, have you?!"

But no matter how you put it, completing the workload efficiently is always a good thing.

One month later, the first batch of sweaters was finished.

A full five hundred sweaters, one hundred pairs of gloves, one hundred hats.

Just as the Chen Family father and son sent someone to deliver the good news to the Cheng Family.

The Cheng Family side, meanwhile, was in the midst of the joy of a bountiful harvest.

"Pomo, this one month alone, we harvested a full one hundred and eighty shi of Corn!"

Meng Shi excitedly clenched her writing brush and little notebook tight.

Hearing this number, Cheng Old Madam also suddenly tightened her grip on the cane in her hand.

One hundred and eighty shi!

"Good, good. When spring comes next year, we'll plant these as seeds."

They were going to turn this place into the Cheng Family Army's granary!

Meng Shi sighed softly, speaking with regret.

"It's just a pity that the secret of this Xian Tian cannot be casually shown to others. Relying only on us few to sow is still too slow, too much of a waste of time. Otherwise, we could definitely have grown another crop."

If others heard this, they would surely think her insatiable.

Four harvests a month — what more could you possibly be unsatisfied with?!

But even harvesting five times only amounts to a little over two hundred shi. Before a Cheng Family Army of over three hundred thousand, this is no different than trying to put out a cartload of firewood with a cup of water.

No wonder she was so anxious.

"Take it slow. These things can't be rushed."

Cheng Old Madam patted her hand and offered a word of comfort.

"Old Madam!"

"Old Madam, the heated kang you mentioned before — we've already finished building it. Would you like to come take a look?"

Cheng Feng, his face covered in black ash, ran over in high spirits.

Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law exchanged a glance.

This heated kang — it was half a month ago that the Immortal, afraid Yu'an would freeze in winter, specially sent the blueprints. That girl Qiuruo tinkered with it for several days.

And they actually managed to build one?

"Then let's hurry back and take a look!"

Back at the house, Cheng Qiuruo was stoking the fire at the stove.

Cheng Old Madam walked into the room, placed her hand on the kang, and after a moment, a look of pleasant surprise appeared on her face.

"It really is warm!"

Meng Shi was overjoyed.

"This way, as long as we have enough firewood, we can sleep warm and cozy in winter too!"

"Then it's settled. Ruoruo and Cheng Feng, you few — work a little harder these days. Try to get heated kangs built in all these rooms before the snow falls."

After Cheng Old Madam finished speaking, she looked around.

"Why isn't Yu'an here?"

Cheng Qiuyun answered from behind.

"I just saw the little one run off to Shengxuan's room."

Cheng Old Madam nodded upon hearing this.

"Keep a closer watch on him during this period. There are a lot of wild beasts in the Mountain this season. Don't let him run around outside."

"Yes."

Meanwhile, on the other side, Yu'an opened the door and peeked inside, craning his neck.

"Little Uncle? Yu'an came to practice writing with Little Uncle."

Getting no response, the little one scratched his head.

"Little Uncle isn't here."

"But that's okay — Yu'an can practice on his own!"

Leaving the door ajar, Yu'an trotted on his little legs to the desk.

Just as he was about to climb onto the chair, he accidentally kicked over the bamboo basket leaning against the desk leg that held the painting scrolls.

Having done something wrong, the little one instinctively and guiltily turned his head to look at the door. Seeing no one was watching, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Yu'an squatted on the ground and picked the scrolls back up, but one of the scrolls seemed not to have been tied tightly — the moment he grabbed it, it came undone.

Seeing the familiar face on it, the little one's eyes went wide and he cried out in surprise.

"Fairy Sister?!"