The Cold Winter Has Passed

The next few days, Lin Guanhuo returned to his former routine.

No demons demanding his life, no superiors picking fights—one could say his days were fairly comfortable.

The eighty taels from selling Martial Arts and killing Huang Bao hadn't been spent yet.

And there was still that forty taels of Dog Head Gold in his pocket, so for the time being, he didn't have to worry about money.

In the first half of the night, he kept drawing his sword in the backyard, repeating the motion over and over.

In the second half, he soaked himself in a thick medicinal bath, letting the potency nourish his sinews and bones, while he ate big chunks of meat and drank wine by the bowlful.

This heavenly existence lasted a full month.

That day, in the early morning, Lin Guanhuo awoke from his medicinal bath.

'Hm? Something's wrong!'

Just as he was about to rise, Lin Guanhuo felt an unprecedented surge of power swelling through his limbs and joints.

When he moved, his bones crackled, and his entire body felt incredibly smooth and free.

He could sense that his strength had taken a massive leap compared to just a few days ago!!

Lin Guanhuo clenched his fist, feeling the surging blood-and-qi force inside him.

Then he murmured to himself: "I actually broke through in my sleep..."

"Body Tempering third-grade."

There was no ecstatic joy as he'd imagined—only a calm sense of inevitability, like water finding its course.

Just then.

"Crackle, crackle~~~"

"Crackle, crackle~~~"

The sound of firecrackers suddenly rang out from outside the window.

Lin Guanhuo pushed the window open.

Snow was falling outside—a heavy, swirling blanket covering all of Blackwater County.

In the distant streets and alleys, he could faintly hear the laughter of children.

"It's New Year's Eve."

Lin Guanhuo felt a bit dazed.

Even in this Chaotic World of Demons, even if they might die in the streets tomorrow—

These common folk still hoped for a better year ahead.

Even if it was just a full meal. Even if it was just surviving.

But for the miserable White Servants of the Miscellaneous Room Courtyard—

New Year's didn't mean rest.

"Move it! Stop dawdling!"

"A lazy donkey has more piss and shit than work! The yamen's been feeding you for nothing!!"

"Hurry up, hurry up!!"

Zhao Sihai had long since disappeared to enjoy himself somewhere.

Only a few overseers were left, barking orders.

Lin Guanhuo, along with the familiar Li Hu and thirty or forty others, were hauling timber in the backyard under the heavy snowfall.

They were supposedly building a stable—really just a shelter for the county magistrate's newly purchased Treasure Horses.

The people hadn't even gotten warm yet, but the horses were already moving into new digs.

They worked until dusk, when the sky darkened, before the job was finally done.

Everyone was exhausted like dead dogs, too tired to drag themselves back to their rooms, so they just sprawled haphazardly in the newly built stable to escape the wind.

"Damn, tired and cold. I gotta drink some wine to warm up."

Li Hu sat on a thick log and pulled out his flask.

He tilted his head back and poured for a long time, but only a drop or two came out.

"Shit!"

Li Hu angrily threw the gourd to the ground. "No wine left."

"This really ain't a life fit for a man."

The more Li Hu talked, the more aggrieved he got. "New Year's Eve, and everyone else is eating reunion dinners, collecting bonuses, with their wives and kids by the warm stove. And us? We spent the whole day building a house for livestock, and we can't even get a hot meal!"

"Last year we at least got a few scraps, but this year—not a single copper!"

"That's enough, Huzi, keep it down." A few White Servants nearby sighed. "Who told us we were born cheap?"

"Born cheap? Yeah, born cheap!"

In the corner, a tall, skinny White Servant sidled over and added, "I heard our two Foremen, along with a few big shots from the County Office, are all over at Peach Moon Tower in the city right now."

"Peach Moon Tower? That place is a money pit!"

"No kidding. I heard just listening to a song there costs a Tael of Silver. They're drinking and having fun, holding sing-song girls in their arms, while we're here sucking down the north wind."

Those words made the mood even worse.

Hunger. Cold. Injustice.

These feelings pressed down like a boulder, crushing the breath out of everyone.

Just then.

Clink.

Two pieces of Broken Silver landed at Li Hu's feet from who knows where.

He jerked his head up.

There sat Lin Guanhuo, who had been silently working all along, now speaking to him from the side: "Stop complaining."

"Li Hu, take the money. Go to a restaurant in the city. Buy wine, buy dumplings!"

"This meal's on me!"

In the world Lin Guanhuo had come from, New Year's meant eating dumplings, meant liveliness—that was the only way it felt like the holiday.

Today was New Year's. Time to make some noise.

He, Lin Guanhuo, was no saint, but he was no miser either.

At those words.

Dead silence.

Everyone's eyes went wide, staring at Lin Guanhuo in disbelief, then at the silver in Li Hu's hand.

Two Taels of Silver!

That was a fortune none of them could save in a year or two.

And he was just... using it to treat everyone to dumplings??

After a moment.

"L-Lin... Lin-ge..." Li Hu's hands were trembling. "This... this is too much..."

"Go on, hurry up." Lin Guanhuo waved a hand, not bothering to listen to Li Hu's grateful blathering.

"Right! Right! I'm off!"

Li Hu scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping in his excitement, grabbed the silver, and bolted out.

"Brothers, wait for me! I'll be right back!"

Half an hour later.

"Giddyup!! Giddyup!! Giddyup!!"

Li Hu came back driving the cart they usually used to haul corpses, with nothing but a layer of dry straw on the flatbed.

Nobody cared about that, though.

On the cart, swaying as it rolled, were several jars of aged wine and dozens of neatly stacked boxes of steaming-hot dumplings.

"Dumplings are here~~~~!"

Li Hu's shout carried the festive cheer of New Year's.

That night, in the back courtyard of the Miscellaneous Room Courtyard, a bonfire blazed.

Forty or fifty rough men, who were used to scorn and hunger every day, sat around the fire.

No one spoke. Only the sound of gulping filled the air.

Freshly made meat dumplings—thin-skinned, big-filling, one bite and the fragrance could knock you out. The flavor was rich!

Washed down with a swig of strong liquor, a wave of warmth surged through everyone.

"Delicious... damn, this is delicious..."

"These dumplings are amazing! Chow down!"

"Last time I had dumplings was a few years back on New Year's. I passed by a rich house, and the family was fighting—they threw the dumplings out, all over the ground. Dirty, sure, but I still ate my fill!"

The White Servants there held their usual broken bowls, eating and talking as they went.

Lin Guanhuo held a bowl of wine, sitting among the crowd, quietly watching the scene.

"Lin-ge!"

Li Hu raised his wine bowl and toasted Lin Guanhuo.

Then, in a rustling wave, every White Servant present, young or old, stood up, wine bowl in hand, facing Lin Guanhuo.

The usual numbness and worldliness had vanished from their eyes.

In its place was a heartfelt gratitude and respect.

Though Lin Guanhuo was younger than everyone there, the cries of "Brother Lin" rang out with genuine sincerity.

"Brother Lin, this bowl is for you!"

"Brother Lin, Happy New Year!"

The wind and snow grew fiercer.

Yet in this dilapidated Miscellaneous Room Courtyard, for the first time, there was a sense of "humanity."

The next morning, the snow stopped.

Lin Guanhuo pushed open his door, ready to wash his face and wake himself up.

But then—

"Lin Guanhuo, get over here."

A lazy voice called out.

Lin Guanhuo turned to look.

There sat Deputy Foreman Zhao Sihai, legs crossed, lounging on a chair under the eaves, a steaming teapot in hand.

He had that look that just begged for a punch.

Lin Guanhuo stopped in his tracks. "Deputy Foreman Zhao, something on your mind?"

"My hired hand asked for leave to go back to his village today, so the house is short someone to chop wood and carry water." Zhao Sihai blew on the tea leaves, not even lifting his eyelids, as if Lin Guanhuo owed him something. "You're young and strong—go lend a hand at my place for a bit. Work hard, and I'll treat you to a full meal at noon."

In Zhao Sihai's eyes, these White Servants were his private slaves, to be ordered around however he pleased.

But...

Hearing this, Lin Guanhuo's brow furrowed even deeper.

"No."

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