Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
The twilight enveloped the threshing ground, where a long table made of twenty or so square tables was filled with coarse porcelain bowls. Aunt Wang, accompanied by the women, brought out tenderly stewed wild boar meat mixed with freshly harvested potatoes, the aroma wafting half a mile away. Seventh Uncle trembled as he pried open the clay seal on the wine jar, amber liquid rippling in the bowl.
"This first bowl today," the old man raised the ceramic bowl high, tears glistening in his murky eyes, "is dedicated to our fallen compatriots!"
The sound of wine spilling onto the earth echoed like a sigh. Lin Dahe lowered his head to gaze at the swaying reflection in his bowl—an unfamiliar face marked with sunburn, no longer that clean-cut graduate from the laboratory. The system's countdown hovered at the edge of his vision: [23:41:29], glaringly red.
"The second bowl," Seventh Uncle suddenly turned to Zhou Liangzhang, who was bound beside the grinding stone, his voice turning sharp, "is for this scoundrel's conscience!"
Laughter erupted from the crowd. Zhou Liangzhang's jowls quivered as mud and grass clung to his silk robe. Aunt Ma was tied to a wooden post beside him, her foot infected and exuding a foul odor.
"According to clan rules," Seventh Uncle's knuckles rapped on the table, "those who collude with bandits shall be sunk into the pond!"
Several young men immediately rolled up their sleeves and stood up. Just as Lin Dahe was about to intervene, One-Armed Veteran suddenly slammed his waist knife onto the table with a clang.
"Hold on." He leisurely revealed a gilded waist token. "This person is involved in a major case concerning the court and needs to be escorted for interrogation." The tip of his knife lifted Zhou Liangzhang's chin. "Especially regarding... certain matters involving the Ministry of Revenue."
Zhou Liangzhang's pupils constricted sharply, and he suddenly wet himself. Lin Dahe keenly noticed that when Old Soldier mentioned "the Ministry of Revenue," Seventh Uncle's brow twitched almost imperceptibly.
"Drink! Drink!" Huo Lang Zhang timely broke the silence, filling each bowl from the wine jar. This man, always wearing a silly grin, walked with a noticeable limp in his left leg—Lin Dahe now understood it was due to an arrow wound sustained last year at the border.
After three rounds of drinks, Lin Dahe brought out his treasured potato seed tubers. These tubers had survived the war and were sprouting tender purple-red shoots that looked like countless little hands under the torchlight.
"Five pounds per household." He distributed them while explaining storage tips. "Remember not to store them with apples..."
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Cui Xiaoman squatting on the steps of the ancestral hall, diligently recording something with charcoal on a booklet spread across her knees. Villagers receiving seed tubers paused before her to report their names and acreage. A woman handed her two dyed red eggs; she declined but ended up stuffing them into her cloth pouch.
"Are you keeping accounts?" Lin Dahe leaned closer to ask.
Cui Xiaoman hurriedly closed her booklet, but Lin Dahe had already caught a glimpse of its contents—it was not just a simple list but detailed information about each household's field locations, soil characteristics, and even annual harvest records!
"My father said..." she blushed slightly, "a good doctor must know their patients' backgrounds."
Suddenly, a system prompt popped up: [Detected potential romantic connection; current affection level 72/100]. Lin Dahe's hand shook, nearly knocking over the oil lamp. Amidst the flickering shadows, he noticed several strands of dried grass stuck in Cui Xiaoman's hair—leftover from yesterday at the battlefield’s grinding stone.
"You have..." he reached out instinctively but was startled by a sudden scream just as he was about to touch her hair.
"Ah—!"
Huo Lang Zhang came tumbling into the threshing ground, blood gushing from a fresh wound on his left arm. "The donkey cart! My donkey cart has been stolen!"
Comment 0 Comment Count