Out of Touch with Reality

Early the next morning, Yan Nu went to eat breakfast.

He had busied himself all night and refined a full eighty catties!

After all, practice makes perfect, and he found that every time his true qi was exhausted and then replenished by eating grass, it would grow even stronger than before.

True qi flickered in and out of existence, and when he wolfed down a catty of steamed buns this morning, it had already surged by another ten percent.

The strange thing, however, was that he found the growth of true qi didn't come from being full, but specifically from eating grass or steamed buns. The shack also served rice porridge, but he drank two bowls of it first and it had no effect.

"Such a bottomless pit! Eating this much... Get lost and go smithing! If there aren't three hundred and fifty catties by tonight, don't even think about eating." Steward Liao stood in front of the food-distribution shack and shouted coldly.

Yan Nu let out a burp and cheered, "Just you wait! I'll definitely forge enough for you!"

Then he took two lashes of the whip and ran back to work.

Uncle Hong felt his heart ache terribly: "You foolish boy, what harm would it do to bend just a little!"

Yan Nu grinned: "Today will definitely be enough!"

Helpless, Uncle Hong immediately summoned his utmost energy and hammered away desperately.

The relentless clanging echoed continuously across the smelting yard, everyone burying their heads in their work.

By noon, everyone was already ravenously hungry. They could rest and drink water, but there was no food.

When evening finally arrived, the crowd was utterly exhausted, having no energy left whatsoever, and only then did Steward Liao arrive tardily.

Leading his men, he inspected the shops one by one. When his turn came to Uncle Hong and Yan Nu's station, there was actually a full hundred catties, which startled him.

"Hehe." Covered in sweat and wearing a weary expression, Yan Nu still managed to force out a proud smile.

Steward Liao furrowed his brow deeply, glanced at Uncle Hong who looked equally exhausted, and thought to himself, Did this fellow surnamed Hong get a shot of adrenaline? Just him alone with an apprentice managed to forge a hundred catties?

He felt astonished in his heart, though Uncle Hong truly was one of the top veteran artisans in the fort. The true qi he had cultivated through ten years of blacksmithing, while low-grade, still counted him as half a martial artist.

Perhaps he had been hiding his true capabilities in the past by not forging much; had he finally brought out his genuine skill today? It seemed these pariahs still needed to be pushed—the moment he mentioned three hundred and fifty catties, the output shot right up.

"Hmph! So you've still got it in you, you weren't giving it your all before, were you? Tea Mountain Fort took you in, and this is how you repay the Fort Master? Where else outside is there a place that lets you eat your fill nowadays!" Steward Liao rebuked Uncle Hong angrily.

Uncle Hong had already worked himself to the bone today, yet he didn't dare talk back, merely lowering his head and murmuring in compliance.

Steward Liao said no more. After finishing all the inspections, he stated flatly, "Three hundred and forty catties—in the past, that certainly would have been enough, but I said we needed three hundred and fifty today! Once again, you're short on the count... None of you get to eat!"

"Please, Steward..." The crowd cried out in hunger.

Steward Liao said coldly, "I can't bail you out every single time! Go hungry, and if you want to blame someone, blame Yan Nu'er!"

With that, he flicked his sleeve, turning to leave right then and there.

The artisans panicked. This was for real; the steward had made up his mind to starve them for a night!

They would have to endure the entire night and wouldn't get to eat their fill until tomorrow morning.

Though it was only enduring a single night, for this group of laborers doing heavy physical work, those with weaker constitutions might faint from hunger or even get sick!

Nor did the steward care about such matters; when did he ever mind whether people got sick or not?

In an instant, the courtyard was filled entirely with cries of wailing and begging!

"The count is enough! It's enough! You can't starve everyone!" Yan Nu'er's voice rang out once again.

Steward Liao let out a cold snort. How is it him again? Yesterday, not paying attention, I let Yan Nu'er sneakily go re-weigh things. To prevent that today, I specifically had people pack up all the iron and left a dozen strongmen to guard it.

Indeed, the count was enough, but what harm would it do to underreport it a bit? As long as the account book was correct, it wasn't like these pariahs could read.

Yet when he turned around, he saw Yan Nu'er running over carrying several large steel ingots.

"Look! There's another ten catties right here!"

Looking at the steel ingots being handed over, Steward Liao was startled: "Where did these come from!"

"I forged them, of course! You undercounted!" Yan Nu grinned broadly.

"You..." Steward Liao looked towards the several large wicker baskets nearby, guarded by over a dozen men, and knew Yan Nu couldn't possibly have stolen them; these truly hadn't been accounted for in the inspection.

The artisans instantly burst into tearful laughter, clapping their hands and shouting, "Three hundred and forty catties, plus another ten—our count is enough!"

"Enough my foot! You heard wrong, earlier I only counted three hundred and twenty catties, not three hundred and forty!" Steward Liao changed his tune on the spot.

In an instant, everyone slumped into a state of dejection, standing frozen like mud sculptures or wooden carvings.

"Was it really three hundred and twenty catties?" Yan Nu stared at him, pressing for an answer.

Steward Liao raised the account book high: "It's three hundred and twenty! Add yours in, and you're still twenty catties short!"

Uncle Hong hurriedly grabbed Yan Nu, lowering his voice to urge him: "Don't be stubborn, if he undercounts, let him undercount."

To everyone's surprise, Yan Nu laughed out loud: "It's fine, it's fine! We're only twenty catties short, and since I didn't sleep last night and rushed to finish the work through the night, it's definitely enough!"

"What!"

In a flash, all the artisans were dumbfounded, and even the armor-clad, spear-wielding local braves nearby looked at Yan Nu in astonishment.

Even Shen Leling, who had been secretly observing Yan Nu with her divine sense, was somewhat baffled.

How could Shen Leling fail to understand Steward Liao's behavior? This was deliberate harassment, a way to squeeze this group of artisans.

No matter how much they made, if he said it wasn't enough, then it wasn't enough!

Presumably, the other artisans understood this as well. In a situation like this, one could either bravely resist, but that was no different from seeking death.

Or else grovel, butter up the steward, and satisfy the other party—any normal person would do just that.

Yet this young man's train of thought was bizarre! He had worked overtime through the night to forge for a whole night, only to bring it out and pad the total during the inspection.

Ridiculous! So stubborn and narrow-minded!

The crowd watched as Yan Nu ran back to the furnace, fished out piece after piece of refined steel, and quickly filled a large wicker basket, carrying it right in front of the steward.

An uproar broke out in the yard. Uncle Hong looked at Yan Nu in shock, not expecting that he had truly stayed up working overtime all by himself to make this much!

The steward was even more dumbstruck. Having conducted inspections for years, he could tell with a single glance that this basket held about seventy catties!

Never mind being enough, it had already far exceeded the amount. He couldn't possibly change his tune again and undercount by another seventy catties, could he?

Never had the steward imagined that someone would actually volunteer to work overtime! All the property in the fort belonged to the Zhang family, and no matter how much the artisans made, it wasn't their own; they were merely working to scrape together a bite to eat.

Yet out came this fool of a Yan Nu, working himself to the bone without sleep to do all this extra labor for the Zhang family. There was simply no way to claim he had made a mistake by working overtime.

The steward's expression shifted, and finally he barked furiously: "You... you dared to hoard private goods!"

Yan Nu answered calmly: "I didn't hoard anything privately, aren't I taking it out right here?"

"Why didn't you take it out when I was inspecting! You clearly intended to keep it hidden!" The steward had no other choice but to say this; how could he let Yan Nu'er back him into a corner?

Yet Yan Nu spoke with utter self-assurance: "Because you definitely would have undercounted! Of course I had to wait until you finished weighing and locked in the number before taking it out!"

"You... you!"

Yan Nu's words made the steward's face turn alternately green and white! In his view, wasn't this pointing right at his nose and accusing him of acting lawlessly?

"Smack! Smack! Smack!"

The steward's whip came crashing down heavily.

Bloody welts were lashed across Yan Nu's body, yet he still called out, "Is the count enough now?"

"Smack! Smack! Smack!"

"Is it enough yet?"

He endured the blows raw, and even when he could barely stand upright and the pain was agonizing, he still pursued the question with an expectant expression.

The steward had no other choice. With the previous amounts, they were already past four hundred catties, and on top of that, Yan Nu had exposed his actions. If he kept frequently changing his tune, he would only lose face, so he could only announce that the day's quota had been fulfilled by the artisans.

"Good, good, good! It's enough, you've more than made up for it!" Steward Liao laughed coldly again and again.

"Right? I said today would definitely be enough!" Hearing that the target was finally met, Yan Nu was overjoyed.

Seeing his completely joyful and righteous expression, the hidden Shen Leling didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Fine, high spirits, but is that really the main point of the issue? What use is it just being in the right?

He only considered what Steward Liao would do, without ever considering what the man was thinking! The steward was a living person, and a petty one at that!

Sure, he successfully forced the steward to acknowledge that the quantity met the standard, but what about himself? Had he considered the consequences?

Chortle... How interesting. Is he truly that stubborn in his own mind, treating everyone else as equally thick-headed too? What an utter fool.

Shen Leling pondered for a moment, and could only describe him as a fool. After all, if you called him stupid, he wasn't really stupid; he actually had plenty of ways to get things done! He really had solved the exact problem of 'the steward refusing to let them meet the quota.'

Like solving a math problem, he arrived at the desired result while seeming entirely impervious to other people's malice.

Naive in his thinking, but... that's fine too! From now on, you are my person.

Shen Leling was quite fond of him. She had already valued Yan Nu for lacking the Mortal World Fire, and since his thoughts were so straightforward, he would fit her purposes perfectly.

On the other side, Yan Nu was also extremely happy. Although he had taken a beating, as long as the count was enough, it was fine!

"Steward, Steward, today's quota was over-fulfilled, please tell my Grandpa..." Sob... sob...

Uncle Hong hurriedly covered his mouth, burning with anxiety. What was the point of asking about news at a time like this, when the man was burning with rage.

"Stop talking, I'll ask for you."

Uncle Hong spoke in a low, persuasive tone, and only then did Yan Nu quiet down, while Uncle Hong forced a smile and said, "Steward, this silly boy doesn't know any better, please don't hold it against him..."

Steward Liao's face was flushed red, and he laughed out of extreme anger: "Yes, yes, yes, you all did a wonderful job today, go eat!"

"The rest of you can leave, but he stays right here!"

"Men, tie Yan Nu'er up to the execution ground! Give him a hundred lashes first!"

Several local braves swarmed forward, pinned Yan Nu down, and dragged him away.

"Why!" Yan Nu asked.

"I have my own reasons!" Steward Liao couldn't even be bothered to find an excuse, just to avoid getting outmaneuvered and cornered again.

Uncle Hong was startled, hurriedly dropping to his knees to plead: "Steward, please spare him, I beg of you."

He now felt an extreme sense of regret for opening his mouth to say those extra words yesterday.

"Get lost!" Steward Liao kicked Uncle Hong aside and flicked his sleeve, walking away.

Catching sight of this, Yan Nu's fists twitched slightly, but realizing he couldn't win and that it would only implicate Uncle Hong, he could only allow himself to be dragged off.

Uncle Hong hurriedly scrambled back up to catch up with the steward, and in his burning anxiety, blurted out the fact that Yan Nu possessed true qi.

Steward Liao halted slightly, turned his head, and said with utter contempt: "He practices martial arts too?"

"This lowly one taught him..." Uncle Hong fabricated wildly: "The child learned some rudimentary breathing techniques from me since he was young, and his aptitude is quite good. After practicing for a few years, at only fifteen years of age, his cultivation has already far surpassed this old man's!"

Steward Liao knew that little bit of skill Uncle Hong had; it was completely low-grade, useful for nothing more than swinging a hammer.

"Hah, so what!" He showed extreme disdain. There were anywhere from a thousand to eight hundred martial artists attached to the Zhang family! Within this Tea Mountain Fort alone, there were over three hundred skilled fighters.

As for someone with superficial skills like Uncle Hong, wasn't he still doing heavy labor just to scrape together a meal?

Uncle Hong curried favor with a smile: "This lowly one only means to say that Yan Nu has decent aptitude. If you spare his life and recommend him to a few instructors, he can also serve the Fort Master..."

"If Yan Nu cultivates well in the future, it will also be your credit! He will certainly be eternally grateful to you!"

"Is that so..." Steward Liao narrowed his eyes and said flatly, "Got it."

Uncle Hong raised his head, watching Steward Liao's departing back with a dazed expression.

What did "got it" mean—was it a yes or a no? Was he going to let him go or not?

Uncle Hong felt a dejected bitterness; fobbed off like this, he was left completely at his wit's end.

"Truly a desperate physician treating any illness!" Shen Leling scoffed faintly from the shadows: "Originally, Yan Nu might have still stood a chance of surviving; the steward was just venting, and whether he would be killed or not remained a toss-up!"

"Now... he's a dead man for sure."

(P.S: Apologies.)