"You're still gathering firewood for them?"
Zhang Xiaohua was rather speechless. He had gathered firewood in the mountains as a child too, but his eldest and second brothers had taken turns accompanying him, only letting him carry a small bundle. He still remembered that feeling vividly.
"Yes. Otherwise, their tea stall would have to spend another two copper coins on firewood."
Ji Xiaohua answered with a smile.
Seeing that there were few passersby nearby, Zhang Xiaohua's childish side surfaced. He set the long sword on the road and said with a grin, "Then pick it up. If you can lift it, I'll add another copper coin to your daily pay. But if you can't lift it, I'll deduct a copper coin from your pay every day."
"Ah!!! Really? Young master, don't fool me."
"Why would I fool you? Go on, carry it for me."
Wild with joy, Ji Xiaohua stepped forward, grasped the middle of the long sword with one small hand, and tried to lift it. Yet the sword did not budge from the ground. Ji Xiaohua was shocked. He took the little bundle from his shoulder, walked over to the sword, gripped both ends with both hands, and heaved upward with all his strength. Alas, even when he used every last ounce of strength, his little face flushing red, the long sword still did not move an inch.
Only then did Ji Xiaohua realize how naive he had been.
Tears were nearly spilling from his eyes.
He regretted it beyond measure. Well, that was that—one copper coin a day was gone!
Then he let go, picked up his little bundle, lowered his head dejectedly, and said, "Young master, I can't lift it. You should carry it yourself."
Zhang Xiaohua looked at him and secretly laughed. He bent down,