A Pittance Given Earns a Debt of Gratitude; a Bushel Given Breeds Hatred

"It's not that I'm worried about that, but the students from our village are here too. I can't just leave them behind and go by myself."

"Go ahead, sir. Don't worry about us." Yan Er laughed heartily. "Before I came, my father already gave his approval. If three or more of us get into the academy, he'll let us have a big feast. Though I'm afraid you won't be there to enjoy it, sir."

"My father..." Today happened to be market day, and Zi Jian and Little Stone had come too. Little Stone was playing with Qiu'er, and with all the snacks and treats Qiu'er had, he'd never go hungry. His father was still going from street to street, repairing people's houses and furniture. Zi Bofeng worried that his father wouldn't be willing to eat anything.

"Don't worry. I'll go get Brother Zi and Little Stone." Yan Er patted his chest.

"Don't let my father drink too much!" Zi Bofeng reminded him, then left with Liu Ziyan.

In fact, it wasn't just Zi Jian who had come. More than a dozen people from Lower Yan Village were in Meng City now. Some had come to sell the game they'd hunted, like Zhuzi; some had come to seek pleasure, like Si Gou; some had come to buy things, some to sell their farm produce, and others had simply brought their children out for a stroll and a chance to see the world.

Though the Jade Tax still hung over their heads, the people of Lower Yan Village had been in high spirits lately. Finding two or three pieces of jade a day, sometimes even four or five, had fired them up like a shot of adrenaline. Just the other day, even Zi Jian had found a piece of jade and had been overjoyed for days.

Zhuzi had found the most jade in the village, thanks in large part to Xitui. But after him, the one with the biggest haul was unexpectedly Lao Tuozi. Lao Tuozi was a quiet man with endless patience. The dull, exhausting work of searching for jade, which tested one's endurance to the limit, suited him perfectly. He could put up with mosquito bites in the dead of night and search until dawn, then keep going the next day without a word.

After him came Old Master Yan Lao Wu. He had led several older jade workers to a rich haul, but they only went into the mountains once every few days, mostly to guide the younger folk. Now Yan Lao Wu had come to Meng City too, and had been pulled away from the work.

If word of such a haul got out, countless people would be green with envy. Fortunately, the people of Lower Yan Village had long understood that wealth should not be flaunted. They had mined jade for generations and were used to keeping a low profile. Even the children knew that showing off never brought anything good, and never mentioned their finds outside the village.

Still, whenever Zi Bofeng thought of how more than half the jade would end up in Feijianzi's pockets, he was instantly annoyed. Uncle Blue Rock had given the jade to the villagers. Why should they hand it over to Feijianzi? It made no sense!

Zi Bofeng attended an ancient version of a class reunion. Among the people there, he also spotted Hu Caijun, but no one was particularly warm toward him. Everyone knew that the tax hikes that had given them all headaches were something Hu Caijun had cooked up to advance his own career. They had let him join only because scholars tended to be forgiving.

Since the debate at the courthouse, Zi Bofeng hadn't seen Hu Caijun. He hadn't known that Hu Caijun had also been sent to serve as a village chief—and in a village that Zi Bofeng himself had demanded be taxed more heavily. It was a case of getting a taste of his own medicine, and the village happened to produce jade as well. He had always been thin, but now he was gaunt and skeletal, his slanted eyes even sharper and more unsettling.

As he watched Zi Bofeng surrounded by people like a star among the moon, Hu Caijun sat in a corner, lost in thought.

They were all arguing over the same matter. The Clan Elders on one side were red in the face, while the group here seemed to be enjoying a warm reunion. At root, most of them had never truly become part of their villages. They were puppets whose power had been stripped away by the Clan Elders, and some had even been ostracized, just as Zi Bofeng once had. So they simply didn't care what happened to the villagers. Even if there was a Jade Tax, they weren't the ones paying it. Even if they had to collect it, what difference did the amount make? There was only one thing they were sure of: no way would all the jade ever be collected.

Zi Bofeng watched coldly, thinking poorly of them. But a few of them truly did have the villagers' interests at heart, and had kept discussing with him what they ought to do. Liu Ziyan was one of them. Zi Bofeng also knew another: the one who had been in the same exam hall and given him a thumbs-up, saying, "You're awesome, bro."

Since they were on different paths, there was nothing more to say. Zi Bofeng ate a little, then made an excuse to leave.

As soon as Zi Bofeng left, Hu Caijun rose from his seat and left too. The others chatted and laughed for a while longer, then went their separate ways.

They'd feasted and drunk their fill at noon. By afternoon, everyone was heading home. Such good news had to be shared with the villagers. Zi Bofeng and the six students from Lower Yan Village who had passed the academy exams were swept along in their midst, surrounded by the others as they returned to the village with gongs and drums. Zi Jian followed along happily. Seeing his son so warmly embraced by the villagers filled him with joy. Zi Jian was a deeply traditional man, with a powerful attachment to his homeland. Zi Village had been wiped off the map, and now he increasingly regarded Lower Yan Village as his home.

Though Yan Lao Wu hadn't been able to return with them, he was still delighted. He held Zi Bofeng's hand and talked with him for a long time. The young were a village's hope. Seeing the village's youngsters make progress and find a bright future filled the old man with pride.

Zi Bofeng was almost overwhelmed by the attention. The old man seemed even happier today than the day Zi Bofeng had helped Lower Yan Village escape its taxes.

When they reached Lower Yan Village, the group spread the news far and wide. Before long, many villagers came pouring out of their homes.

Some had already gone into the mountains to search for jade, leaving behind only the old, weak, sick, young, and women. But the village was as lively as it was during a festival. Then everyone crowded into the Ancestral Hall to pay their respects to their ancestors.

But the Zi father and son were once again left outside the door. They looked at each other, amused and helpless.

In the end, they were still outsiders with a different surname.

Zi Bofeng reached up and pressed the Porcelain Shard, where a blue flame burned between his brows. As spiritual energy surged, he fixed his eyes on it.

In the overhead view shown by the Porcelain Shard, the villagers' goodwill toward him was shooting up. Zi Bofeng could see the ink marks growing so dark they seemed ready to drip.

At that very moment, the villagers' trust in Zi Bofeng had begun to swell beyond measure. Their blind faith came from his repeated efforts to earn it, and from the excellent results of all six students passing. A hundred percent success rate made Zi Bofeng, in their hearts, a lifeline leading to the future.

No matter how much jade the workers found, no matter how much they sweated to build up their hard-won riches, the government would always take it away. The government might claim to love its people like its own children, but in the end, it still treated them as subjects. To rise into that higher class themselves—that was what it truly meant to leap over the dragon gate.

And now, Zi Bofeng was a dragon gate.

But there were exceptions. Zi Bofeng noticed that while most people's goodwill toward him had soared, the ink marks of a few were slowly fading.

Looking closely, he saw that they belonged to the people who had wanted to ostracize him after he debated Feijianzi. Those people had only become more hostile toward him now that the villagers had accepted him more fully.

All he could say was... well, people wore a thousand faces.

Zi Bofeng could only sigh.

It wasn't as if he could drive them out of Lower Yan Village. He would just pretend they weren't there.

Still, Zi Bofeng couldn't help feeling annoyed. There were always some ungrateful ingrates in this world—not just those who repaid a pittance with resentment and a bushel with hatred, but those who repaid a pittance with resentment and a bushel with mortal enmity.

Even so, Zi Bofeng couldn't help wondering if the Porcelain Shard would really mark such things for no reason, telling him how close he was to these people.

The Porcelain Shard had given him the Monster Raising Art because of the obsession in his heart. Why had it given him a marker resembling a measure of goodwill? Was it because Zi Bofeng had always wanted other people's approval?

Perhaps that really was it... But if the goodwill reached its maximum, what would happen?

Still, as Zi Bofeng looked at their names, he realized he had no intention of putting on a warm face only to be snubbed. Every one of them was trouble.

Zhuzi had once had the lowest goodwill toward Zi Bofeng because Zi Bofeng had spoken carelessly about his mother's illness. Looking back, Zi Bofeng felt he had been in the wrong.

But these people? Zi Bofeng didn't think he was in the wrong. Was he supposed to pay more attention to those who treated him badly and ignore those who were devoted and loyal to him? That made no sense.

Suddenly, Zi Bofeng noticed that one person's black mark had darkened a little. He stared at it, then gave a quiet "Huh" and said to his father, "Dad, I'm going to the Private School."

Zi Jian nodded. "Then I'll go home and make dinner."

Zi Bofeng gave the reins a light shake, and Tauxue trotted away.

Zi Bofeng rode straight to the house of the person whose goodwill toward him had just risen a little. Before he even reached the door, he heard a weak voice from inside: "Y-you're hitting people?"

Zi Bofeng glanced sideways through the half-open door and saw Si Gou sitting at the table, picking his teeth and belching. The table was laden with fine wine and food; he had clearly just eaten his fill.

"Y-you ate my food and drank my wine, and you still hit me... You... how can you be so unreasonable..." The man had been kicked to the ground by Si Gou. He trembled there, accusing him.

Si Gou was a hoodlum to begin with. After Zi Bofeng had taught him a lesson, he had become more restrained, but he still had a thug's mentality. He didn't dare act too brazenly toward other people, but thugs had a natural talent for finding someone they could bully. He didn't even need to check the goodwill marks to know these people needed a beating.

"Me, unreasonable?" Si Gou dangled one leg and said, "Let me put it this way, Xiao Si. I ate your food and drank your wine, and today I'm going to beat you too. Don't complain about it. I learned it from you."

Record of Raising Monsters