Half Right

Shen Chu cast a glance.

Those who played nice with Zhao Dezhu naturally had meat and vegetables, while those masters who were ostracized ate food that was truly beyond description.

In his previous life, Shen Chu had been quite short on money for a time and had eaten "poverty meals" for a while; the food these masters were eating was much the same as those meals.

But these masters were doing manual labor—how could they possibly hold up on just poverty meals?

Either they had to spend their own money to supplement their diet, or they had to slack off while working, but doing that meant getting their pay docked by Zhao Dezhu!

Watching the masters in the courtyard gathered in small groups, whispering to one another, Shen Chu couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

Truly, wherever there are people, there is a world of intrigue.

This Zhao Dezhu looked honest and thick-headed, his face wearing a harmless, friendly smile, yet his mastery of workplace politics was simply superb.

Divide and conquer, marginalize the dissenters, boil the frog in warm water...

Every step was perfectly calculated, avoiding intense backlash while slowly eroding power bit by bit.

If he were in the modern era, he would likely be prime material for a boss—or if not a boss, then a boss's most loyal hound.

If he himself hadn't been relying on the banner of Sun Ping, he feared he would have been targeted by Zhao Dezhu as well.

As he thought this, he chewed the braised pork in his mouth, suddenly feeling a bit of pity for Li Chengwen.

That foolish lad was likely walking along some trade route right now, high-spirited and following Master Li, fully believing this was the start of a thaw in their father-son relationship, thinking his good days were finally coming.

He had no idea that his own backyard had already been quietly emptied out.

When he returned and discovered that most of the masters in the Sword-Forging Courtyard had followed Zhao Dezhu and Li Jiwu, he wondered if that smile on his chubby face would still be able to hold.

"Don't think too much, little Shen," Sun Ping sighed, then patted him on the shoulder. "We earn our wages from the Li Family. As long as we forge our blades well and do our work honestly, this Zhao Dezhu won't do anything to us."

"Right."

Shen Chu nodded and stopped dwelling on it.

In the evening, the fires in the Sword-Forging Courtyard were extinguished and work concluded.

Shen Chu was tidying up the tools on his workbench when he saw Zhao Dezhu walking over with his hands behind his back and a beaming smile.

"Brother Shen, finished for the day?"

Why was this guy here?

Though Shen Chu didn't show it on his face, he nodded toward Zhao Dezhu and offered a friendly smile, yet his heart was already on high alert.

"I have a gathering with a few brothers from the courtyard tonight. If Brother Shen is free, why not come and sit with us?"

Looking at the smile on Zhao Dezhu's face, Shen Chu couldn't help but sigh inwardly.

He only wanted to forge iron and practice his skills in peace; he had no desire to get involved in the struggle for the family fortune between the elder brother and the Second Young Master.

Recalling Sun Ping's instructions from earlier in the day, he politely declined: "Many thanks for the invitation, Steward Zhao, I am truly grateful. It's just that Master Sun said we have another batch of blades to forge tonight, so I'm afraid..."

Zhao Dezhu glanced at the extinguished stove and knew full well this was Shen Chu's way of dodging the invitation.

He wasn't annoyed, merely chuckling, "Easy, easy. Since Master Sun has given orders, then official business must come first."

With that, without waiting for Shen Chu to respond, he turned his hands behind his back and strolled away.

Immediately after, Zhao Dezhu circled around to other workstations and said the exact same thing to the others.

Unlike Shen Chu's choice, these men naturally agreed readily, thanking Zhao Dezhu profusely.

Zhao Dezhu remained all smiles, greeting them one by one before turning to leave.

Before he left, he glanced at Shen Chu once more.

Shen Chu was still tidying his workbench, unhurried and steady.

Inside Zhao Dezhu's room, a few low stools were arranged around a small square table.

On the table sat a portion of peanuts, a plate of roast chicken, a plate of beef in sauce, and a steaming basin of fish head and tofu stew, along with two jars of fine wine.

The men who had been invited looked at the spread, their mouths watering before they could help it.

To be honest, the meal wasn't exactly lavish, but for these sword-forgers who were used to pinching pennies, it was a rare treat.

"Come, come, why are you all just standing there? Sit down!"

Zhao Dezhu greeted everyone with a beaming face, simultaneously popping open the wine jars and filling everyone's cups.

After a few cups of wine, the men began to open up.

One burly man picked up a piece of beef, shoved it into his mouth, chewed twice, and sighed, "Brother Zhao, to be honest, if you hadn't put in a good word for me with the Second Young Master to keep me on, I'd have been kicked out and rolling on my way long ago. You don't know—I used to work harder than an ox in the yard, and the wages I got in a month weren't even enough to buy two doses of medicine for my mother. Since I started following you, the work is lighter and the pay is better. My mother even managed to get an old hen to nourish herself last month!"

A tall, thin man next to him nodded repeatedly, raising his cup to toast Zhao Dezhu: "Who's to say otherwise! I worked in the yard for two years and didn't even earn the title of a formal sword-forger. As soon as Brother Zhao came, you gave me a half-grade raise. My wife actually has a smile for me now! This cup is for you!"

Another younger lad chimed in eagerly: "Brother Zhao, my father's legs aren't good, and I'm the only laborer in the family. Life used to be so tight that we couldn't even bear to buy a pound of meat for the New Year. This month, thanks to you, I finally bought some good medicinal plaster for my father and even brought home three pounds of meat! My father told me I must thank you properly!"

Listening to the chorus of thanks, Zhao Dezhu kept a gentle smile on his face.

He took a sip from his cup and waved his hand, saying, "Don't say that, everyone. I come from a poor family myself; I didn't even have enough to eat as a child, so I know how hard life is. People like us weren't born with silver spoons in our mouths. If we want to survive and live well, we have to help each other out."

He then set down his cup, his gaze sweeping over everyone present: "That is why, since I, Zhao Dezhu, have become this little steward, I must be worthy of everyone's trust. I cannot guarantee that everyone will become rich and powerful, but I will do everything in my power to ensure that we poor brothers can eat our fill, wear warm clothes, and have money for medicine when our families fall ill. That is my greatest wish."

These words were spoken with such sincerity that everyone present was moved.

The scarred man slammed the table, his eyes reddening: "Brother Zhao! With those words, my life is yours! From now on, if you tell me to go east, I will never go west!"

The tall, thin man stood up excitedly: "Right! Brother Zhao, don't you worry, we'll listen to you from now on!"

The quick-witted lad's eyes darted around, and he suddenly added with a flattering tone: "Brother Zhao, we will definitely serve you and the Second Young Master well from now on!"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Dezhu's smile didn't change, but he shook his head slightly, pointed at the lad, and corrected him with a laugh: "Hey~ you're only half right!"