Shen Le, Your Methods Would Make a Capitalist Weep (Please Vote for the Monthly Ticket Baseline)

The decorated boat sat abandoned on the shore. The crowd had left in a great procession, and before long, another procession returned.

This time, it was a pack of soldiers in gleaming armor, fierce as wolves:

"This boat looks good! Have the shipwright inspect it. If there's nothing wrong, we'll take it into the army!"

"B-but, sir, the grand ritual's been held on this boat. The gods have been invited aboard—"

The shipwright looked terrified. His legs shook so badly he could barely stand. The celestial emperors, the divine generals of the five directions, the thirty-six plague gods, and the seventy-two pestilence ghosts had all been invited aboard!

The only thing to do with this boat now was burn it as an offering to the gods!

Take it into the army and sail it into battle? Were they trying to kill the whole force? With so many soldiers camped together, an outbreak of plague would be a catastrophe!

"Shut up! Inspect it, now!" The officer leading the troops swung his whip with all his might.

The whip hissed past the shipwright. Only because a young officer beside him pulled the man aside did it miss its mark instead of killing him outright.

The young officer who had intervened sighed and spoke gently:

"Don't be afraid. Just do your job and you'll be fine. An army camp has always been thick with vigor and killing intent. Gods and ghosts causing trouble here? Impossible!"

As he spoke, he took out a piece of silver, pressed it into the shipwright's hand, and pushed him forward. Caught between the carrot and the stick, the shipwright could only force his trembling legs to move.

"Great emperors, plague gods, they forced me to come. I meant no disrespect," he muttered as he circled the boat and