Thoughts

Just as Doyle led Chen Cheng and the others toward the oasis at the city center, some of the old, weak, sick, and disabled people hauling food supplies—those without armor and somewhat older—noticed a flaw.

"Wait a moment. Look, these sacks holding the grain are actually made of the most ordinary coarse hemp."

A one-eyed old man stopped several people and pointed at the grain sacks.

The others had thought he was about to say something earth-shattering, yet it turned out he was only talking about the sacks.

"One-Eye, are you getting senile? What else would grain be packed in but these coarse sacks? Silk?"

Everyone laughed at that.

At that moment, a white-haired soldier carrying grain in from behind saw this and shouted:

"Still slacking off here? Hurry up and move the grain."

The old men tugged at One-Eye, then said to the soldier, whose hair was already snowy white:

"Don't get angry. These are old arms and old legs, after all. Besides, our sentences have already ended. We're all law-abiding citizens of the Empire now, so you can't treat us differently."

One-Eye and the others had come here as Imperial prisoners, but after so many years of labor reform, their sentences had long since ended.

If the Empire had not suddenly collapsed, they would have returned to the Empire's glittering world long ago, together with Doyle and the others when their rotation came.

"So what if you're law-abiding citizens? Around here, the rule is more work, more reward. And look at us—we're even older than you, yet aren't we carrying grain with ease?

"So stop making excuses. Otherwise, when the grain is handed out, if your share is smaller because you did less work, don't come making a fuss."

The white-haired soldier glared at him, put down the