A Favor of One Liter of Rice, An Enmity of Ten

"It's not that I'm worried about that, but since our village students are all here, it wouldn't be right for me to leave them behind."

"Sir, please go ahead, don't worry about us," Yan Er said with a hearty laugh. "Before I came, my father already gave his approval. If more than three of them pass the entrance exam for the academy, he'll allow them a grand feast. It's just a pity you won't be there to share in the meal, Sir."

My father... Today happened to be market day, so Zi Jian and Little Stone had come along as well. Little Stone was playing with Qiu'er; there was no shortage of snacks and treats, and as long as Qiu'er was around, he would never go hungry. His father was still wandering the streets and alleys, repairing houses and furniture for people, and Zi Bofeng worried that his father wouldn't be willing to spend money on food.

"Don't worry, I'll go call Brother Zi and Little Stone," Yan Er said, patting his chest.

"Don't let my father drink too much!" Zi Bofeng cautioned before leaving with Liu Ziyan.

In truth, it wasn't just Zi Jian who had come; there were over a dozen people from Lower Yan Village in Meng City now. Some had come to sell the game they had hunted, like Zhuzi; some had come to seek pleasure, like Si Gou; some were there to purchase supplies, others to sell their own agricultural produce, and some had simply brought their children along to look around and broaden their horizons.

Despite the looming pressure of the Jade Tax, the spirit of Lower Yan Village had been excellent lately. The daily harvest of two or three, sometimes four or five pieces of jade, had left these people feeling as energized as if they had been injected with adrenaline. Just the day before, even Zi Jian had found a piece of jade and had been so happy he'd hugged it for days.

The one with the highest jade harvest in the village was Zhuzi, thanks in large part to Xitui. Aside from Zhuzi, the person with the next highest yield was surprisingly Lao Tuozi. Lao Tuozi was low-key and patient; the tedious work of jade hunting, which tested one's endurance to the limit, was like water to a fish for him. He could endure the biting of mosquitoes in the pitch-black night, searching for an entire night, and then continue searching the next day without saying a word.

Then there was the elder Yan Lao Wu. He and a few of the older generation of jade workers had a very fruitful harvest, though they only went into the mountains every few days, mostly to guide the younger ones. Now that Yan Lao Wu had come to Meng City, he had been pulled away from his work.

If such a harvest were known to others, countless people would surely be green with envy. Fortunately, the people of Lower Yan Village had long understood the principle of not flaunting wealth. Having mined jade for generations, they were accustomed to keeping a low profile. Even the children knew that showing off brought no good, and they never mentioned these matters to outsiders.

However, whenever Zi Bofeng thought about how more than half of these jade stones would end up in Feijianzi's pockets, he felt instantly irritated. These jade stones were meant for the villagers by Uncle Blue Rock; why should they be handed over to Feijianzi? It made no sense!

Zi Bofeng attended an ancient version of a class reunion. Among the crowd, he saw Hu Caijun, though everyone's enthusiasm toward him was low. Everyone knew that the tax-hike incident, which had left them all in such a state of distress, had been fabricated by him to pave his own way to power. The only reason they allowed him to join them was that scholars were generally quite magnanimous.

Since the Debate at the Courthouse, Zi Bofeng hadn't seen Hu Caijun. He hadn't realized that Hu had also been sent to serve as a village head—and in a village where he himself had demanded a tax hike, a case of reaping what one sows. It just so happened that this village was also a jade-producing one. He had been thin to begin with, but now he looked even more gaunt, the angles of his triangular eyes appearing sharper and more haunting.

Seeing Zi Bofeng surrounded by people like stars around the moon, Hu sat in a corner, lost in thought.

While the clan elders argued until their faces were red over the same issue, the group here felt a sense of harmony. The root cause was that the vast majority of them had never truly integrated into their villages. They were merely puppets sidelined by the clan elders, and some had even faced the same exclusion Zi Bofeng once had, so they didn't care at all about the villagers' plight. Regardless, even if there was a Jade Tax, they weren't the ones paying it, and even if they were the ones collecting it, what difference did it make? There was only one thing they were certain of: it was absolutely impossible to collect all the jade.

Zi Bofeng watched coldly from the sidelines, feeling a sense of disdain for them. However, there were a few who truly cared for the villagers and had been discussing with Zi Bofeng how to proceed. Liu Ziyan was one of them, and there was another whom Zi Bofeng also knew—someone from the same examination hall who had once given him a thumbs-up and called him a "tough brother."

Since their paths were different, there was nothing left to say. Zi Bofeng ate a little and then excused himself.

As soon as Zi Bofeng left, Hu Caijun also departed from his seat. The crowd made a fuss for a while longer before dispersing.

After a lavish feast at noon, everyone headed home in the afternoon. They had to share the good news with the villagers. Zi Bofeng and the six students from Lower Yan Village who had been accepted into the academy were swept up and escorted back to the countryside amidst the beating of gongs and drums. Zi Jian followed along happily; seeing his son so adored by the villagers filled his heart with joy. Zi Jian was a very traditional man with deep-seated attachment to his roots. Since Zi Village had been wiped off the map, he had increasingly come to regard Lower Yan Village as his true home.

Although Yan Lao Wu couldn't return with them, he happily gripped Zi Bofeng's hand and spoke for a long time. A youth was the hope of a village, and he was deeply gratified to see the younger generation making progress and securing a bright future.

Zi Bofeng felt somewhat flattered; the old man seemed even happier today than he had been when Zi Bofeng helped Lower Yan Village avoid the tax.

Upon arriving at Lower Yan Village, the group began spreading the news, and before long, many villagers emerged from their homes.

Although some had already gone into the mountains to search for jade, leaving behind only the elderly, the weak, the sick, and the women and children, the liveliness rivaled that of a festival. The crowd then thronged into the Ancestral Hall to pay their respects to their ancestors.

The Zi father and son were left outside the door. They looked at each other, feeling a mix of amusement and helplessness.

In the end, they were outsiders.

Zi Bofeng reached out and pressed his finger against the porcelain shard between his brows, which was burning with a cyan flame. As spiritual energy pulsed, he focused his gaze.

In the overhead view presented by the porcelain shard, the favorability of the Lower Yan villagers was skyrocketing. Zi Bofeng could see with his own eyes that many of the ink marks were becoming so thick they were almost dripping.

The villagers' confidence in Zi Bofeng was now overflowing. This blind faith stemmed from his previous efforts and the success of all six students passing the exam. A hundred percent success rate made Zi Bofeng seem like a lifeline to the future in the eyes of these villagers.

No matter how much jade the workers found or how much they painstakingly accumulated, it was always confiscated by the government. No matter how much the officials claimed to love the people like their own children, they ultimately viewed them as mere subjects. But if one could leap into that class themselves, that was the true "carp leaping over the dragon gate."

And now, Zi Bofeng was that dragon gate.

However, there were exceptions. Zi Bofeng noticed that while most people's favorability toward him was exploding, a few ink marks were slowly fading.

Zi Bofeng looked closer; those that were fading belonged to the people who had tried to exclude him after his debate with Feijianzi. Now that he was even more accepted by the villagers, these people had become even more exclusionary toward him.

One could only say... how to put it? People have a thousand faces.

Zi Bofeng could only sigh.

In any case, he couldn't drive these people out of Lower Yan Village, so he would just pretend they didn't exist.

But Zi Bofeng still felt irritated. There were always ungrateful wretches in this world. It wasn't a case of "a pint of rice breeds gratitude, a bushel breeds enmity," but rather "a pint of rice breeds enmity, a bushel breeds mortal hatred."

However, Zi Bofeng felt that the porcelain shard wouldn't easily mark such things and show him his intimacy levels with them without a reason.

Just as the shard had given him the Monster Raising Art because of the obsession in the original Zi Bofeng's heart, why did it give him an intimacy indicator? Was it because Zi Bofeng had always wanted the approval of others?

Perhaps that was truly the case... but if the intimacy level were maxed out, what would happen?

Zi Bofeng looked at the names of those people, but he truly had no intention of offering his warm face to their cold behinds. None of them were easy to deal with.

Zhuzi's favorability toward Zi Bofeng had been the lowest before, because Zi Bofeng had spoken rudely about his mother's illness. Looking back, Zi Bofeng felt he was in the wrong.

But for these others, Zi Bofeng didn't feel he was in the wrong. Should he give more attention to those who treated him poorly while ignoring those who were loyal and devoted to him? That made no sense.

Suddenly, Zi Bofeng noticed that the black mark of one person had suddenly become darker. He squinted, took a closer look, and let out a soft "Oh," before saying to his father, "Dad, I'm going to the private school first."

Zi Jian nodded and said, "Then I'll go home and cook."

Zi Bofeng gently flicked the reins, and Tauxue trotted away.

Zi Bofeng arrived at the door of the person whose favorability had just risen slightly. Before he even reached the front, he heard a weak voice from inside: "You... why are you hitting people?"

Zi Bofeng glanced sideways through the half-open door and saw Si Gou picking his teeth, burping, and sitting boldly at the table. The table was spread with fine wine and food, clearly having just finished a hearty meal.

"You... you eat my food and drink my wine, yet you still hit me... you... you are unreasonable..." The man, who had been kicked to the ground by Si Gou, was trembling as he accused him.

Si Gou was a hoodlum by nature. After being taught a lesson by Zi Bofeng, he had restrained himself quite a bit, but his hooligan mentality hadn't changed. He didn't dare be too arrogant toward others, but hoodlums were born with the talent and instinct to find targets they could bully. He didn't need to look at favorability levels to know that these people were asking for a beating.

"I'm unreasonable?" Si Gou shook his leg and said, "Let's put it this way, Xiao Si, I'm eating your food and drinking your wine today, and I'm still going to hit you. Don't lecture me; I learned this from you."

Record of Raising Monsters