"Brother, did you hear what the village head is planning this time?" a young man asked, sitting beside his older brother while sipping from a mug of beer. As the mug left the older man's lips, he glanced at his brother in confusion and shook his head.
"What's that lad up to now? Doesn't he already have his hands full keeping the farmers in check? What, does he want to shut down the tavern next and work us to the bone without a bit of pleasure in life? Hah, that noble snob!" the clearly tipsy man grumbled.
His younger brother gave a bitter smile and chuckled.
"Haha, brother, 'suppressing the farmers'? Come on, you know better than that. Those farmers have gotten lazy over the years. They only sold enough to keep their bellies full and their pockets jingling. Now, thanks to the village head, they're finally producing enough food so the rest of us can eat our fill! I still remember the time I was nearly out of silver and couldn't even buy a loaf of bread because the farmers had already sold out!"
The younger man rambled on, then took a deep drink from his mug before setting it back down on the table.
"Anyway, I heard your nephew's about to turn fifteen, right?"
The older man raised an eyebrow, surprised the younger one knew about his nephew. But it wasn't a secret, so he nodded.
"Yeah, my little sister's son. He's turning fifteen soon. Why?"
As the man asked for more details, the haze of his drunkenness seemed to fade, his eyes sharpening with sudden clarity. But the younger man wasn't put off by his direct tone, he simply smiled brightly.
"I have an opportunity for him. A big one. Want to hear it?"
"An opportunity?" the older man repeated, puzzled. Still, he nodded. "Alright, say what you've got to say."
The young man's smile widened, and he glanced at his nearly empty mug of beer. Seeing the look on his face, the older man understood immediately. He raised his hand and shouted:
"Waiter! Another mug of beer!"
"Coming right up!" the waiter replied, quickly hurrying over with a fresh mug.
As the young man took a long sip, he leaned in slightly and lowered his voice.
"I probably shouldn't be saying this… but you've to kept your mouth shut. I've heard the young village head is planning to train mortals, to help them awaken spiritual roots!"
The older man's eyes widened in shock. His pupils trembled as he stared into the younger man's eyes.
"Is that true?" he asked again, almost breathless.
The younger man chuckled and nodded.
"Yes. I'm a servant working under one of the village head's aides. My supervisor asked me to gather information on the most promising children in the village. And well," he grinned, "since you and I have shared a few drinks over the past few months, I thought I'd offer your family a chance. After all, having a cultivator in the family is something we mortals can hardly dream of."
"So you were a servant under the village head all along?" the man muttered, more to himself than anyone else. He didn't press for more details. After finishing his drink, he left the tavern in the middle of the night, leaving the younger man alone, naturally, the tab was on him.
Now alone and thoroughly drunk, the young man staggered out of the tavern with a small drinking pouch in hand.
He took a deep breath. The scent of beer lingered on his clothes, mingling with the earthy smell of grass and soil. It wasn't unpleasant. He'd grown up here, after all, this smell was familiar, almost comforting, but over the years, a part of him had begun to resent it.
"Heh..." Instead of wallowing in that resentment, the young man chuckled and took another sip from his pouch. He knew, deep down, that these things were slowly starting to change.
With that thought, he wandered aimlessly through the dark and silent village. Here and there, he passed a few other drunken souls like himself, exchanging slurred greetings. But for the most part, he walked alone.
After a while, he arrived at a familiar house. As he stopped in front of it, his eyes gradually sharpened, clearing from the drunken haze. He slipped the beer pouch onto his belt and took a few deep breaths.
His face was still slightly flushed, but the redness was faint and with each breath, his mind grew clearer.
He reached for the front door, intending to enter the house, but before his fingers touched the handle, a voice called out behind him.
"Wait! Sir Wu, wait!"
Zhou Wu turned around, recognizing his name being called. A somewhat familiar middle-aged man hurried toward him. Zhou Wu offered a polite smile and bowed slightly.
"Greetings. How can this humble servant help you?"
The middle aged man, an errand boy, judging by his attire, looked startled by Zhou Wu's courtesy. He blinked a few times and coughed awkwardly, clearly trying to suppress his embarrassment at being addressed so formally.
After a brief pause, the errand boy reached into a cloth-covered bag and pulled out a book. Holding it carefully, he presented it to Zhou Wu with both hands, bowing respectfully.
"Sir Wu, the Village Head asked me to deliver this, but I, uh, I'd be grateful if you could give it to him in my place."
He blurted out the words quickly, and without waiting for a response, turned and ran off in a hurry.
Zhou Wu stood there, slightly confused, holding the book. After a moment, he chuckled softly and shook his head.
"Do they really believe the Village Head is as ruthless as he pretends to be? Can't they see the kindness behind his actions? Haa... People rarely look beyond rumors."
Still shaking his head, Zhou Wu tucked the book under his arm, opened the front door, and entered Ling Ye's house. He walked up the staircase to the second floor and opened a door. Inside, he found the Village Head, Ling Ye, seated and working as usual.
Every time Zhou Wu opened this door, he always found Ling Ye seated at his desk, tirelessly working. Day and night, the young Village Head toiled without rest, sleeping only once every two days and even then, for no more than three hours.
Watching this tireless figure at work, Zhou Wu couldn't help but grow to respect him. He had only known Ling Ye for a month, but in that short time, the youth had already enacted major changes in the village and even more were still to come.
"Greetings, Village Head. I hope you've had enough rest to keep working. Don't worry about this humble servant of yours." Zhou Wu smiled as he saluted and greeted Ling Ye, though, as usual, Ling Ye returned his greeting with a cold, aloof stare. His deep black eyes made his otherwise youthful face seem distant, almost intimidating.
Zhou Wu sighed and chuckled softly.
"Village Head, if you look at everyone in the village like that, how do you expect to improve your reputation?" he teased.
Ling Ye seemed slightly surprised by the sudden question, but he didn't respond directly. Instead, in his usual calm, chilly tone, he asked, "How are things progressing?"
Letting out another small sigh, Zhou Wu shook his head and answered, "How are things going? Everything's going smoothly. Ever since you pressured the farmers, they've started working properly. And with the new methods you introduced, we're confident we'll be able to produce even more bread over time!"
His voice carried genuine enthusiasm as he gave his report. After finishing, Zhou Wu approached Ling Ye's desk and placed a book on top of the stacked papers.
"Ah, almost forgot. This was handed to me by an errand boy. He said it was something you requested."
When Zhou Wu handed him the book, Ling Ye initially didn't recognize what it was. But after flipping it open, a rare smile slowly spread across his face, so rare, in fact, that it left Zhou Wu stunned.
"So he can smile after all," Zhou Wu thought, but wisely kept the comment to himself. He knew well that saying such a thing aloud might get him fired. It was part of why many in the village saw Ling Ye as a cold and unapproachable tyrant.
"Good," Ling Ye said, his eyes focused on the names listed in the book. "Zhou Wu, send someone to gather the mortals listed here. I want them included in the next phase of the plan."
Hearing the order, Zhou Wu straightened up and saluted,"Understood."
With the book in hand, he left Ling Ye's house without another word, ready to carry out the task.
As the door closed behind him, Ling Ye allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.
"It's finally starting to take shape," he murmured.
Standing up from his chair, he winced slightly, his back aching from the long hours he spent sitting. He stretched and began pacing the room to loosen his stiff muscles. After a few slow circles around the space, his body felt a little more awake.
Returning to his desk, he leaned back into the wooden chair and pulled out one of his many notebooks. He began writing notes, carefully recording his progress and reminders, so nothing would be forgotten.
"Once the youths are gathered," he muttered to himself, "I'll begin training their bodies. Just like one of the manuals described…"
He paused.
"Maybe if I had done these mortal exercises myself… maybe I could have been blessed with a spiritual root. Maybe if I had just trained harder…"
But the more he spoke, the heavier his voice became, until the words stopped, choked by the quiet, stabbing ache in his chest.