Qiao Zi insisted he was only young in age, not small-minded.
Night fell, and the students were hurried back to their dormitories to sleep.
Qiao Zi tricked the instructor on patrol and quietly crawled out of bed.
Then he snuck a hoe out of the kitchen and carried it to the sports field.
Just as he raised the hoe to strike, the voice of his Martial Master friend came from a tree diagonally above him. "Digging up a grave in the middle of the night?"
Qiao Zi froze.
In the distance, Qi Cang came running over in a panic.
He cursed, "You little ancestor, you're the ancestor of all my ancestors!"
What was the little brat up to now, in the middle of the night?
It was bad enough that he'd incited older students to go exploring at night when he was little. Now he was getting up in the middle of the night to dig up a grave. Did he think he was some tomb-raiding captain? Qi Cang lifted Qiao Zi up. The child stared at him expressionlessly with a pair of dark, glossy eyes.
"Qiao Zi!"
Qiao Zi kicked and struggled. "Who's buried underneath?"
The burly black shadow coiled around the tree slithered down and turned into human form. "I doubt Zheng Qiao ever expected to suffer another calamity, so many years after his death."
Qi Cang: "..."
Qiao Zi was surprised. "Zheng Qiao?"
The person buried in this nameless grave was Zheng Qiao?
During the calamity in Ganzhou all those years ago, war had spread across the land, leaving the common folk to suffer beyond endurance. Most elderly people still remembered that man-made disaster, and even children born in peaceful times like Qiao Zi had heard about it. Some old people liked to use Zheng Qiao to