CHAPTER 139: CHAPTER 139: POURING OUT ONE’S WORRIES

Zhao Zhitong and Wei Shulan, two close little friends, worked together. Zhitong was responsible for asking questions, while Shulan took notes.

Wei Shulan’s handwriting was smaller and more delicate than Zhao Zhitong’s. Qiao Muchen, with the charming excuse that her ’small and delicate’ script would save paper, effectively thwarted Zhao Zhitong’s eagerness to be the one taking notes.

Zhao Zhitong held Wei Shulan’s small hand, and together, they ran towards the farmers. Zhao Cheng, seeing that Zhao Zhitong could not be dissuaded, had no choice but to follow closely behind her.

At first, the busy farmers paid little attention to the children, impatiently telling them to play elsewhere and not disturb their work. However, Zhao Zhitong was sweet-tongued and adorable. After her persistent efforts, one or two farmers finally spoke a few words to them.

"Where did you kids come from? What are you doing here?"

"Uncle, we’re from a nearby village," Zhao Zhitong replied in her childish voice. "We’re just out playing."

Then, looking around, she feigned curiosity and asked, "Uncle, how much do you earn in a day for working here?"

At this, several other farmers nearby overheard and spoke up, "Wages? What wages? Getting two full meals a day is already good enough."

The farmer who had first spoken to Zhao Zhitong quickly hushed the others. "SHUSH! Are you tired of living? What nonsense are you spouting here?"

Those farmers, perhaps wanting to vent their frustration now that the overseer wasn’t in their area, grumbled a few complaints. "I’m not talking nonsense. If we worked as porters at the docks, we’d earn more than a dozen coins a day. Here, we work ourselves to the bone for nothing."

Zhao Zhitong and Wei Shulan were both astonished. Zhao Zhitong found it incomprehensible. "Why?" she asked, puzzled. "Aren’t you working for the Qin Clan? Isn’t it only natural to be paid for your work?"

The farmers thought they were just children with simple ideas.

The complaining farmers, perhaps truly overwhelmed by their bottled-up grievances, ignored that they were just children and began to pour out their woes. "We belong to the Qin Family manor. This new land was recently assigned to our manor, and the steward of our manor is a real piece of work! He’s always harsh on us, so don’t even think about getting paid for labor..."

Zhao Zhitong’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Then why don’t you leave the manor if he’s so bad?"

The farmer gave a bitter smile. "Leave? We’re dirt-poor peasants. Without land, leaving the manor means waiting to starve to death."

As the farmer poured out his troubles, Zhao Cheng held an inkstone and squatted beside the two girls, while Wei Shulan wrote rapidly.

Just then, the farmers who had finished venting noticed the ink brush, paper, and inkstone in their hands and were startled. Peasants held scholars in the greatest awe. "You... what are you doing...?" one stammered.

Zhao Zhitong puffed out her small chest, her face full of indignation. "We’re writing down all the evil deeds of that villain Qin and will give it to the judge! He’ll punish the wicked, and then your land will be returned to you!"

The farmers were overjoyed. Being uneducated and inexperienced, most of them didn’t realize it wasn’t that simple. They deeply believed these children, thinking scholars were truly remarkable. Hearing that the judge could bring down Landlord Qin and return their good fields, they felt as if they truly saw a glimmer of hope and became very excited. Even a few farmers working a bit farther off couldn’t help but put down their tools and gather around, eager to tell Zhao Zhitong and the others about the injustices they had suffered.

However, they had barely spoken a few sentences when the overseer’s lackeys suddenly returned.

The lackey found that these children hadn’t left but had even run deeper into the area to play. And the farmers had stopped working and were gathered around the children, talking.

He immediately brandished his whip, shouting as he strode over, "What do you think you’re doing? Slacking off, are you?! If this plot of land isn’t cleared by noon, none of you will eat!"

With that, he cracked the whip on a farmer, who cringed and didn’t dare utter a sound. Then the lackey glared at Zhao Zhitong and the others, asking fiercely, "Hey! Whose brats are you?!"

As he spoke, the whip in his hand cracked with a SWISH! SWISH! sound. Zhao Zhitong and the others were terrified. The farmer who had first spoken to Zhao Zhitong urged them to leave quickly.

Zhao Zhitong and the others reacted instantly, letting out a cry and turning to flee, screaming as they ran. Zhao Cheng and Zhao Yu ran, carrying the inkstone. Ink splattered all over them, but they paid it no mind. They simply poured the rest of the ink onto the ground, freeing their hands to grab the little ones and drag them away.

After all, they were just children, so the lackey didn’t think they could cause any real trouble. He just yelled and threatened them a bit. Seeing the children run off scared, he didn’t bother to chase them.

However, Zhao Zhitong and the others were terrified by the CRACK! of the whip, feeling as if wolves were chasing them. They ran screaming, not daring to stop for a moment. Zhao Cheng was afraid Zhao Zhitong might fall and also had to ensure the other children didn’t get left behind. He was terribly worried.

After they scrambled onto the main road in a rush, the little ones finally realized no lackeys were chasing them and collectively breathed a sigh of relief. Panting heavily, the children didn’t care about anything else and plopped right down on the ground.

Having gone through such a thrilling and stimulating experience for the first time, a sense of relief after surviving danger washed over them. The little ones looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Just then, the sound of carriage wheels and horse hooves arose. They saw two horse carriages approaching slowly from a distance, one behind the other. The children quickly scrambled up from the ground and stood neatly in a row by the roadside, waiting obediently for the horse carriages to pass.

The lead horse carriage was low-key yet luxurious. The children couldn’t discern the status of its occupants; they were simply captivated by the majestic appearance of the horses pulling it. The little ones were all mesmerized by the fine steeds, staring wide-eyed at the large, maroon horses trotting towards them.

However, just as the horse carriage was passing them, it suddenly stopped. The carriage curtain was then lifted, and a middle-aged man’s face appeared at the window.

He asked, "Which one is the young lady from the Zhao Family?"

After the man’s voice sounded, someone alighted from the rear horse carriage. It was none other than the proprietor of Guang Ju Restaurant—Wang Fuhai.

Wang Fuhai walked up to Zhao Zhitong and said, smiling, to the man inside the carriage, "Master, this is the young girl, the young lady from the Zhao Family."

Zhao Zhitong was extremely surprised, her eyes wide as saucers. "Uncle Wang!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Wang Fuhai chuckled. "Little girl, this is my master, the Head of the Feng Clan. We were just on our way to visit your home."

Zhao Zhitong looked again at the middle-aged man in the carriage window. He had sharp eyebrows and star-like eyes, appearing somewhat older than her father, and wore a long beard. His eyes, though smiling, were not dull; instead, they glinted with a sharp, shrewd light—the unmistakable astuteness of a merchant.