Rumors circulated that a biological warfare facility in Kim Village had leaked toxic gas.
But everyone knew perfectly well what had happened.
Some people criticized the prince for being ruthless, after all, the large Jin Village couldn't possibly be entirely populated by Japanese soldiers.
But most people give a thumbs up when they mention the prince.
People from that era were ruthless.
Be ruthless to yourself, and even more ruthless to your enemies.
If you're not ruthless, you won't survive.
"Uncle Zhaocai, I'm going to Wang Village!" Zhang Cheng said to Zhang Jucai.
"Okay!" Zhang Jucai nodded and instructed, "Remember to bring some joss paper and incense, don't go empty-handed!"
"I know!"
Zhang Cheng responded and turned to run towards the dealership.
At the shop entrance, Aunt Hua was chatting with Shi Yangyang and Zhang Qingwan.
“Auntie, you all eat your food. I’m going to Wang Village to pay my respects to the Prince!” Zhang Cheng said directly.
Aunt Hua's expression turned serious, and she nodded solemnly.
"Your Highness is a true hero; you should indeed go and pay your respects."
She turned and went into the store.
"I'll go get you some yellow paper and candles... Oh, and give me a red envelope too. Your Highness's family is also suffering. His wife passed away early, his eldest son drowned, and his youngest son broke his leg. Alas."
Upon hearing this, Shi Yangyang immediately stood up.
"I'll go get the money!"
Soon, the two had everything ready.
Aunt Hua handed a large bag to Zhang Cheng and carefully instructed him: "Er Gouzi, remember, Wang Village has erected a monument for the King. As a junior from another village, you must perform two kneelings and six bows. Three kneelings and nine bows are for close relatives. If you break the rules, you will bring bad luck."
Ha, feudal superstition.
Zhang Cheng chuckled inwardly, but seriously agreed aloud.
As a reborn person, he believed in these things more than anyone else.
"Zhang Cheng, this is for you." Shi Yangyang handed over a white envelope with a strong character "奠" (meaning "offering a sacrifice") written on it in pen, and his name was signed at the bottom.
Zhang Cheng took the white bag and put it in his pocket.
"Then I'm leaving."
"Be careful on the road!"
...
More than an hour later, Zhang Cheng arrived at the foot of Huangpo Mountain in Wangcun territory.
His gunshot wounds were almost completely healed, but he still dared not walk fast.
"Huh?"
Zhang Cheng paused, his ears keenly picking up a rustling sound coming from the distant bushes.
Curious, he crouched down and tiptoed closer.
Holy crap.
Through the gaps in the thatch, he saw a man and a woman entangled together, their pants pulled down to their ankles.
Is this some kind of thrill-seeking activity in broad daylight?
Zhang Cheng's eyes darted around, he chuckled, picked up a piece of mud and stone, and hurled it in that direction.
"Oh!"
A man's cry of pain rang out; the stone had hit him squarely.
Zhang Cheng lowered his voice and called out in a sinister tone.
"The mountain god is watching, aren't you afraid of retribution?"
Two screams suddenly rang out from the bushes, and the couple hurriedly pulled up their pants and scrambled away.
Watching their disheveled figures, Zhang Cheng was in high spirits. He dusted off his hands, picked up his things, and headed towards Wang Village.
At the village entrance, several old men were gathered around smoking their pipes.
Upon seeing Zhang Cheng, they all greeted him with smiles.
"Er Gouzi, are you here to pay your respects to the Prince?"
"The prince's stele stands outside the ancestral hall; you can see it at a glance."
"You've got a good heart, young man. You deserve to make a fortune!"
Zhang Cheng distributed cigarettes to everyone, exchanged a few pleasantries, and then headed straight for the village ancestral hall.
Outside the ancestral hall, a two-meter-high blue stone stele stands solemnly.
The inscription on the stele bears the prince's birth date and time, with his name "Wang Shi Huanchun" in the center and his military career described on both sides, each word written with heartbreaking sorrow.
Zhang Cheng straightened his expression, took out the yellow paper and candles, and meticulously followed Aunt Hua's instructions, performing two kneelings and six bows before the stone tablet.
Finally, he lit three cigarettes and respectfully placed them in front of the monument.
The wisps of smoke seemed to be silently conveying a sense of respect.
Just as he stood up, Wang Hongzhao rushed over from the side.
"Ergouzi, you've really put your heart into this!" Wang Hongzhao looked at Zhang Cheng with a complicated expression.
"Uncle Hongzhao," Zhang Cheng handed over the white bag from his pocket, "This is a small token of my appreciation. Please give it to the Prince's family for me."
"Okay." Wang Hongzhao accepted the white bag, but didn't let him leave. Instead, he lowered his voice and his eyes flickered.
"Er Gouzi, the prince was with you before he left, right?"
"That's right."
"Did he mention anything special to you?"
Zhang Cheng raised an eyebrow: "Uncle Hongzhao, what do you mean by that?"
Wang Hongzhao's lips moved as if he hesitated, but in the end he gritted his teeth and took out a neatly folded piece of paper with yellowed edges from his pocket.
"This was found by the army when they were sorting through the prince's belongings. Take a look."
Zhang Cheng took it with a puzzled look and carefully unfolded it.
There wasn't a single word on the paper.
There is only one painting.
The drawing was extremely crude, like a child's scribbles. It depicted several Japanese soldiers wearing Japanese flag caps, struggling to pull three large boxes.
The box was decorated with rectangular shapes.
This drawing is too abstract.
Zhang Cheng looked up at Wang Hongzhao: "Uncle Hongzhao, what is this painting...?"
"gold!"
Wang Hongzhao's voice trembled slightly with a hint of fervor.
"It must be gold! Back then, the Japanese plundered so many landlords in our Funing County, piling up mountains of gold bars and silver dollars! Later, the Eighth Route Army raided their supply train, and that batch of gold disappeared! Your Highness has been fighting guerrilla warfare in the mountains, so he must have seen where the Japanese hid the gold!"
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