Stealing Chickens and Dogs

Farmer's grand principles made Hanyu's head spin. Damn that Earth Spirit—what had it been thinking, turning a man with a whole heap of principles into a farmer?

"Sir, who exactly are you?"

Hanyu clutched his head, feeling as if his brain were about to overflow with principles.

The farmer grinned, a row of bright white teeth showing on his gaunt face.

"They all call me Yugong, so you can call me Zhishou."

Damn!

So he really did have a name—and two of them! To have a name in a place like this, could he be another key to breaking through the trial?

Before Hanyu could ask anything else, Yugong—no, Zhishou—damn it, should he call him Yugong or Zhishou?

The old man spoke first.

"I've told you so much already. So, what do you say? Want to pile up earth together and make a mountain?"

Hanyu's face darkened. Build a mountain, my ass. I don't even have the faintest idea how to dig one up.

He cautiously asked the old man, "Let's say, hypothetically, that I wanted to dig up these two mountains. How would I do it?"

The moment he finished asking, the old man's kindly expression vanished. His face changed in an instant.

"I'm only asking hypothetically. Hypothetically."

Hanyu hurried to clarify. He didn't want to die as soon as he'd entered the trial.

Unexpectedly, the old man suddenly swung the hoe on his shoulder with a fierce whoosh, striking at Hanyu's crown as fast as lightning.

Dizzy and reeling, Hanyu saw a crowd of farmers rushing in together, their hoes hacking at him with merciless brutality.

As he teetered on the brink of death, he could still faintly hear the old man's words.

"There are no hypotheticals here..."

"What if Hanyu can't pass the trial?"

The group