"Brother Shen," Su Ming called, his voice hoarse after an afternoon of work.
Shen Fei stopped and looked at him. There was a fresh cut on Su Ming's arm, wrapped in a strip of cloth so soaked with sweat and dust that its original color was impossible to tell.
His face was also darker than before, probably from spending the past few days under the sun at the foot of the City Wall.
Su Ming stood before him, hesitated, then said, "Yesterday, you told me to run, and I did. I ran two streets away, then came back with my squad. We circled around from the east and cleared out a few small flame demons that had strayed from the others." His tone was level, as though he were reporting an ordinary mission, but he spoke a little more slowly than usual.
After hearing him out, Shen Fei nodded. "Well done."
At those words, the corners of Su Ming's mouth twitched. He said little more, only adding, "There were five of us in the squad. No casualties. Just a rolled blade edge. It'll still work after sharpening."
Shen Fei said, "If the edge has rolled, get a new blade. Register it with the quartermaster and give him my name."
Su Ming froze for a moment, then nodded. "All right."
Neither of them said anything more.
Shen Fei nodded to him and continued down the street.
Su Ming stood where he was and watched Shen Fei take a few steps away, then bent down to carry the broken bricks again, sorting the timber and stones into separate stacks. His movements were a little quicker than before.
When Shen Fei entered the gates of the Sacred Family, the guards at the entrance saw him, lowered their heads, and greeted him as "Patriarch."