Chapter 49: Landslide【VIP】

The laughter in the room stopped abruptly.

Yang Jizong felt somewhat uncomfortable being stared at by the two of them, and his eyes fell on the brush in his sister's hand.

It was made by him himself using wolf hair. I wonder if the two of them are used to using it?

"It's almost the end of the year, and Coach Xing has been urging us to build the city wall lately."

Moreover, the storekeeper Ren had sent some food and half a pig some time ago, so the soldiers under his command no longer clamored to go into the mountains to hunt.

Chen Yao and Yang Wenying were both smart people, and they understood what Yang Jizong meant even if he didn't say it explicitly.

"Do you still have time to open up the wasteland?" Chen Yao thought that she would have to ask him for seeds today.

When Chen Yao asked about the land reclamation, Yang Jizong touched his nose awkwardly and told them that he finally understood why military commanders always laughed at civil officials for their empty talk.

Although he was full of knowledge about farming theories, he was not as good as Goudan and other half-grown kids when it came to actually reclaiming wasteland.

Most of the wasteland in the quarry was created by the labor of Chen Yao's uncle and the people of Wanhe Township.

The wasteland he had chosen was full of rocks when he hit the ground with his hoe. Fortunately, Chen Youfu helped him find another vacant land, so that everyone's efforts were not wasted.

After hearing what her brother said, Yang Wenying's eyes went dark. She had just praised her brother for knowing how to use his strengths to attract Chen Yao's attention, but she didn't expect to be slapped in the face so suddenly.

Chen Yao felt that Yang Jizong was a sincere person. He would not lie to them just because he couldn't save face.

Yang Wenying, however, didn't think so. To help her brother regain his dignity, her eyes were filled with intense hope and pleading: "Brother, you've read so many books, do you know how to make paper and ink?"

Yang Jizong was slightly stunned, thinking that the Shen family was short of money and wanted to make money this way.

Seeing his hesitation, Chen Yao quickly explained, "We won't reveal this method to anyone. We just want the children to study and practice calligraphy seriously in the future, and no longer use sandboxes and dead branches. Although the village has built a school for the children, they don't have pens, ink, paper, and inkstones—"

It is not something that a mere poor tenant farmer can afford.

Yang Jizong's heart trembled slightly, and he felt ashamed of his narrow-mindedness. "I have read about papermaking methods in some miscellaneous books."

Yang Wenying's face lit up instantly. She turned around, grabbed Chen Yao's shoulders and shook them: "I told you that Brother could do it. This trip won't be in vain!"

Chen Yao's head was buzzing from being shaken, and she raised her hand to stop Yang Wenying: "Yes, yes, it's not in vain, it's not in vain."

Yang Wenying snorted softly before letting him go. He then handed the writing brush, ink, paper, and inkstone to Yang Jizong and said, "Brother, write down the method quickly."

Yang Jizong held the brush and looked at the account book spread out on the table.

This account book was very different from any he had seen before.

Well, too simple.

Seeing his surprised look, Chen Yao raised her eyebrows slightly. It was naturally different. This account book was made by her and Wenying. They cut each piece of paper into squares of the same size, poked holes in them, and then sewed them together tightly with hemp rope.

Although not as beautiful as those sold in bookstores, it is cheaper and can be used for a long time if used sparingly.

"Brother, please write it down quickly." Yang Wenying couldn't help but stood up and urged.

Yang Jizong lightly pressed one hand on the yellowed and rough paper, picked up the pen and dipped it in ink with the other hand. After thinking carefully for a moment, he wrote down the method of making paper.

As for making ink?

After Yang Jizong finished writing the method of papermaking, he held his breath and concentrated for a moment, then stepped back slightly to avoid the two furry heads that were crowding in front of him.

"Why don't you write anymore?" Chen Yao was impressed by the lines of easy-to-understand words on the paper and turned to ask.

If Yang Wenying's calligraphy is as graceful and proud as winter plum blossoms, then Yang Jizong's calligraphy is like a living print.

"I don't remember the method of making ink very clearly. I will tell you if I remember it later." Yang Jizong tilted his neck back and met the eyes of the person in front of him, with a sincere look on his face.

At this time, Yang Wenying was carefully drying the ink on the account book, fearing that the papermaking method would be ruined, and she didn't notice that her brother had made another success.

In fact, Chen Yao had some doubts about the truth of what Yang Jizong said, but when she heard him say that this method of papermaking required them to try many times, the paper produced might not even be as good as the worst straw paper sold in the bookstore.

Her doubts completely disappeared.

Yang Jizong didn't know that in order to create an opportunity to meet her again, Chen Yao labeled him as "a useless scholar".

Scholars are valuable, but it is useless to have only theory without practical application.

Yang Jizong understood Chen Yao's eyes and wanted to explain, but Huang Dongsheng came to call the three of them back to the house.

Inside the mud house, Yang Jizong also put on the warm indigo cotton coat, and gave Chen Yao a bag of claw millet seeds that he had prepared earlier. He looked down at the old clothes she was wearing and felt a lump in his throat.

"Don't think too much, we can make our cotton-padded jackets soon." Chen Yao was afraid that he would not believe her, so she pulled Yang Wenying's sleeve.

She finally had time to look at him: "Brother, you are indigo, we are pink, and the aunts are red. We all have it, don't worry."

Miao's eyes were swollen like walnuts, and her voice was louder than usual. We were at home every day, and when it was cold, we could gather around the stove to keep warm, so."

The cotton-padded jacket is very thick and the stitches are very dense, carrying with it the hearts of the people who have been lonely for a long time.

There was a hint of red at the corners of his narrow eyes. He raised his hand and bowed to Miao as a junior to express his gratitude. He also reminded everyone to bring Huang Songbai home as soon as possible if possible.

If the pressure is applied, Coach Xing probably won't let him go easily.

Chen Yao left half of the pumpkin pie she brought and waved goodbye to her uncle and Yang Jizong who were being taken away by the officers.

She believed that although they were separated temporarily, they would meet again soon.

After Miao led the children out of the quarry, she looked back at Chen Yao several times on the way, but in the end she couldn't bring herself to borrow money from her.

"Mom, wait a little longer. I'll receive the other half of the deposit at the end of the month, and then I can bring Dad back." Huang Dongsheng whispered as he walked beside his mother, carrying a load on his shoulder.

After hearing what her son said, Miao could only swallow her bitterness.

When they arrived at Wanhe Township, Miao burst into tears again when she saw the dilapidated houses and the helpless elderly people.

Grandma Wang placed the pumpkin cake that Chen Yao had sent her in the pot while heating it with hot water. She tore it in half and handed it to Miao: "Don't cry, things will get better."

Look, we old people who were supposed to die have actually survived until winter.

Not only did he not starve to death, but he also had work to do and earned money.

Although the official is evil, there are still many good people in this world.

However, good people do not live long.

Not long after Chen Yao and his group left Wanhe Township and arrived home, an accident occurred in the quarry.

A mountain that had been mined for more than half suddenly collapsed at night, causing the hard laborers who were quarrying in the surrounding area to be unable to escape. Many people were buried under the collapsed mountain and their lives or deaths were unknown.

The biting cold wind was accompanied by the cries for help from the slave laborers everywhere.

When Xing Fang heard the noise on the city wall, he immediately led his soldiers to the scene. On the one hand, he and the officers dug through the stones to look for the survivors, and on the other hand, he sent people to guard against other slaves who could not escape in the chaos.

Huang Songbai was covered in rubble and dust all over his body. When he was carried out, his mouth and nose were full of dust.

Chen Youfu fed him some water and rubbed his hands and feet. Seeing that he had regained consciousness, he quickly held his hand and cried with joy: "I'm glad you're awake. Are you feeling unwell?"

Huang Songbai came to his senses. His sunken eye sockets were bruised and swollen, and there was a cut on his forehead that was bleeding.

Chen Youfu hurriedly called the villagers to collect wood ash to stop Huang Songbai's bleeding.

After Huang Songbai regained consciousness and learned from Chen Youfu what had happened, he was so shocked that his hands and feet were cold. He belatedly asked, "Zi, ke, where is Zi'an?"

Chen Youfu's dusty face was covered with tears. "When the rock rolled down, everyone was panicking. Brother Yang will definitely be fine. Instructor Xing sent some decent people—"

Before he could finish his words, Huang Songbai got up from the ground and ran towards the collapsed mountain.

"Maizi, Maizi, where are you?" Goudan sat on the ground and cried. His gloved fingers were already oozing with blood, but he still couldn't find his little friend from the pile of rocks.

Huang Songbai listened to the crying around him, stumbled all the way, and ignored the scolding and whipping of the officers, and ran down to the foot of the collapsed mountain to look for him.

If something happened to Zi'an, how would he explain it to his family?

Pieces of rubble were moved away one by one. Every time a piece of stone was pulled away and some broken limbs were exposed, Huang Songbai's heart tightened.

I was afraid that it was Zi'an, but I was also afraid that it wasn't.

Inside the quarry, torches were kept burning all night, and the laborers carried out several corpses in grief.

Huang Songbai and his son Chen Youfu followed them all the way to check, only to see that the bodies had been smashed beyond recognition by rocks, with arms and legs missing, but they could still be identified by their relatives.

"No, it's not Zi'an." Huang Songbai's lips were black and blue, and his body trembled like a sieve as everyone looked over.

Goudan was so frightened by the corpses lying around that he burst into tears. He wiped his tears and howled, "It's not Maizi, Maizi, where are you?"

At daybreak, heavy snow fell, and the entire quarry was covered with white snow. The crying gradually stopped.

After Xing Fang counted the number of people, he ordered his soldiers to ride fast horses into the city to the pharmacy to ask for a doctor. He turned around to look at the group of people who were still clinging to the rocks, and led the officers to walk over with big strides.

"Sir, Zi'an must still be alive. I can find him. I will definitely find him." Huang Songbai was muttering to himself while clinging to the stone, looking like a madman.

Xing Fang grabbed the hilt of the knife at his waist and without a word, he struck Huang Songbai in the back of the neck. After knocking him unconscious, he said to Chen Youfu, "Carry him back and wipe him thoroughly with water. A doctor will come to treat you after noon."

After saying this, he waved his hand and asked the officers behind him to dig together with the people from Wanhe Township.

I want to see Yang Jizong in person, whether he is alive or dead.

Chen Youfu reacted immediately and knelt down and kowtowed to Xing Fang: "Thank you, sir, thank you, sir!"

Xing Fang looked at the remaining hard laborers in the quarry, wiped his beard and cursed the evil God in his heart. It seemed that it would be impossible for him to complete the work within the deadline.

He had to write a memorial to report this sudden disaster, but at this time, Yang Jizong's life or death was unknown, so he had no idea where to start.

Xing Fang returned to the house cursing, and his soldiers immediately brought in cooked thick porridge and hot pumpkin cakes.

Xing Fang only took a look at the food, picked up the horsewhip on the table, kicked the bench in the room away, and rode away.