Chapter 902
Hongyun Guard
The four people stood in the center of the orchard.
The soil after the snow melts is as soft as fermented dough; you can sink half an inch when you step on it, and when you pull your boot out, it makes a sticky "pop" sound.
Zheng Yi squatted down, grabbed a handful of wet soil, and muddy water dripped from between his fingers.
“The soil is loose, but three feet below is old loess, which can be compacted to bear weight.” He looked up at the three mud-brick houses. “First, demolish the old houses and rebuild the foundation. The wall will be built with black rock and inlaid with a ‘calming and tranquilizing array’ so that the children can sleep soundly at night.”
Zhao Sanhuai grinned:
“Sir, this place is big enough to build a three-courtyard house. The front can be used as a school, the middle as living quarters, and the back can be used to grow vegetables. The children can grow their own vegetables and have fresh produce.”
Master Kulian stroked his beard, his gaze sweeping over the withered pear trees:
"The pear tree is old, but its roots are still alive. If we attach new branches in the spring, it will bear fruit in three years. The children will have pears to eat, which is more affordable than those candied hawthorns in the city."
Guo Tianyou unfolded the blueprints and squatted down to flatten them:
"Sir, I discussed it with the foremen last night. The dormitory will still be ten stories high, but we'll reduce the number of households on each floor by two, making them four-person rooms with a small stove and outhouse. We'll leave two large communal sleeping rooms on the ground floor for the new kids to transition to. The wall will be twelve feet high, with a 'warning talisman array' embedded on top. It will light up red when someone tries to climb over the wall."
Zheng Yi pointed to the northwest corner of the blueprint:
"Add a heated room here."
"It's for the younger children to live in during the winter."
"The earthen stove was heated with charcoal, and a thick mattress was laid on top."
The three nodded in unison.
Zhao Sanhuai suddenly asked:
"Sir...where did the child come from?"
Zheng Yi looked at the city wall in the distance.
On the city wall, several city guards were piling sandbags onto the arrow crenellations. The sandbags were darkened by the snowmelt and piled up like a row of crouching grizzly bears.
"An orphan in the city."
"And...those who have lost both parents."
"The parents are alive, but we can't afford to raise them."
"We'll accept anyone who's willing to come."
Zhao Sanhuai was silent for a moment, then whispered:
"Sir... I'm afraid... there will be too many people coming."
Zheng Yi stood up and brushed the mud off his hands:
"More is more."
"Not enough... add more."
"People... can't just freeze to death, starve to death, or die of disease on the street."
Master Kulian sighed:
"At my age, this is the first time I've felt that... building a house is more important than alchemy."
Zheng Yi did not respond.
He turned and walked back.
Footsteps sank into the muddy snow.
It makes a "gurgling" sound.
It felt like stepping on a giant, wet sponge.
The three people behind them followed.
The snow has started falling again.
Fine and dense.
It landed on the shoulders of the four people.
It fell on the bare branches of the pear tree.
It landed on the roof of an abandoned adobe house.
It's like giving this wasteland a makeover.
Cover yourself with a thin white blanket.
three days later.
Construction has begun on the welfare home.
First, demolish the old houses.
The craftsmen used pickaxes to smash the adobe walls, large sections of plaster falling off to reveal the sorghum stalks and dry mud underneath. The dismantled adobe bricks were stacked neatly, ready to be used to fill in low-lying areas. The pear trees were dug up by the roots, their intertwined roots resembling a giant gray spider web. When unearthed, they were covered in damp soil and broken rootlets, and the earthy smell instantly filled the entire orchard.
The new foundation was made of black rock.
The twelve black iron piles were driven into the earth's veins one after another by the pile driver. With each strike, the ground trembled, as if the earth was roaring. The tops of the piles were bound with iron hoops, engraved with the array patterns of the "Thousand-Pound Earth-Solidifying Array," which gleamed with a dark golden light in the sunlight.
The wall must be built first.
Black rocks were stacked one on top of another, and the gaps between the rocks were filled with mortar made of glutinous rice juice and lime. After the mortar dried, it became as hard as iron. Warning talismans were embedded in the top of the wall. The runes were drawn with cinnabar and activated with spiritual power after they were drawn. The runes lit up with a light blue light curtain, like a thin layer of ice covering the top of the wall.
Three large communal sleeping quarters were first built in the inner courtyard.
Each room can accommodate twenty children.
The kang (heated brick bed) was built with blue bricks, and an underground heating system ran underneath, with the flue connecting to the chimney outside the courtyard. A thick mattress was laid on the kang, sewn overnight by women from the city. The cotton was freshly harvested from cotton fields outside the city, dried thoroughly, and fluffy.
The kitchen is located in the southeast corner of the yard.
The large stove can cook ten large pots at the same time.
The pot was made of cast iron, with a two-inch-thick bottom; the rim was so hot that it could be burned to the touch when burning firewood. A cellar was dug next to the stove, with walls made of black rock, where vegetables, meat, and ice could be stored in winter.
The school was built at the northernmost point.
Three rooms side by side.
Each room can seat forty children.
The blackboard was made of polished iron plate with a special paint coating, making chalk writing clear and easy to erase. The tables and chairs were made of elm wood, with smooth tabletops and sturdy legs; they were specially made by the best carpenter in the city.
A three-courtyard house.
Front courtyard school.
The dormitory of the Intermediate People's Court.
The backyard vegetable garden and activity area.
The wall is twelve feet high.
Warning symbols are embedded in the wall.
A moat was dug outside the city walls.
The river water is drawn from a tributary of the Hanyuan River.
A small stone bridge spans the river.
A sign was erected at the bridgehead.
The plaque is engraved with four characters:
"Hongyun Welfare Home".
The day the hospital opened.
Snow stopped.
The sun is shining brightly.
The courtyard gate was wide open.
A new plaque hangs above the door.
The plaque is made of rosewood.
The characters were written by Zheng Yi himself.
Four characters:
"Children have someone to rely on."
Zheng Yi stood beneath the plaque.
Grayish-blue cloth shirt.
A purple-gold sword hangs at his waist.
He looked at the long line of children and elderly people outside the courtyard gate.
There are orphans.
Some of them are orphans.
Some were abandoned.
Some parents are disabled and cannot be supported.
Some...their parents are still alive, yet they are willing to send it.
The line was very long.
The line stretched from the courtyard gate all the way to the alley entrance.
Some children were clutching tattered cotton-padded coats.
Some of the elderly people were using canes.
Some women were holding babies in their arms.
They looked at Zheng Yi.
His eyes were filled with cautious anticipation.
Zheng Yi stepped forward.
The voice was not loud.
But everyone heard it:
Welcome home.
"Starting today."
"This...is your home."
Someone in the crowd burst into tears.
Someone knelt down.
Someone lifted the child above their head.
Zheng Yi raised his hand.
He gestured for everyone to stand up.
He looked at the first child.
A boy who is six or seven years old.
The boy's clothes were so torn that the cotton was showing through.
The shoes on her feet exposed her toes.
He looked at Zheng Yi timidly.
Zheng Yi squatted down.
Look at him at eye level.
The sound was very soft:
"what is it call?"
The boy's voice trembled: "I...I'm called Little Stone."
Zheng Yi nodded:
"Little stone".
"From now on... this will be your home."
"There's food if you're hungry."
"There are clothes if it gets cold."
"I want to learn something...and someone can teach me."
"I want to play... and I want someone to play with."
"No one dares to bully you."
Little Stone's tears fell.
But he nodded vigorously:
"Sir...I...I believe you."
Zheng Yi rubbed his head.
Get up.
He looked at everyone.
The sound wasn't loud.
Yet it pierced through the wind and snow:
"Come in, everyone."
"Home...the door is open."
The crowd moved.
Like a tide.
They surged into the courtyard.
In its first month after opening, the welfare home in Hongyun City East was like a pot of freshly boiled porridge—steaming hot yet chaotic. The stone lions in front of the gate were polished to a shine by the children's climbing, and the copper bells in their mouths jingled incessantly, as if someone inside was frantically shaking them. A few wintersweet blossoms bloomed along the base of the wall, their red petals blown by the wind and landing on the bluestone slabs, where they were trampled into wet, red clumps by the little feet of passersby. The kitchen chimney constantly billowed white smoke, the aroma of millet porridge, steamed buns, and the occasional whiff of scrambled eggs with scallions wafting through the air. A gust of wind carried these smells into the vegetable garden in the backyard, turning the bok choy and spinach leaves a glossy, vibrant green.
Zheng Yi didn't go to the city lord's council hall that day, nor did he go to the drill ground to watch Zhao Sanhuai train the new recruits. He wore an old gray cotton robe, with no sword at his waist, only a charcoal pencil and a small notebook clipped to his cuff, and slipped out through the back door of the orphanage. The hem of the cotton robe was damp with morning dew, clinging to his calves and making a slight "patter" sound as he walked. He walked south along the narrow alley in the east of the city. The alley was twice as narrow as the main street, and the earthen walls on both sides were covered with withered morning glory vines, the vines as dry as an old man's fingers, rustling in the wind like someone whispering.
At the third fork in the alley, there stood a dilapidated brick kiln. Half of its roof had collapsed, revealing the dark, murky interior. A few clumps of foxtail grass grew from the kiln's opening, dewdrops clinging to their tips, gleaming brightly in the sunlight. Beside the kiln lay piles of discarded bricks and broken tiles, and a few tenacious dandelions sprouted from the cracks in the brickwork, their fluffy white heads bursting forth. Sitting at the kiln's entrance was a boy of about ten, as thin as a reed, wearing a patched-up blue cloth jacket, the cuffs worn white, his trousers rolled up to his knees, revealing a pair of feet, purple with cold. He held a fire poker in his hand, drawing circles on the ground. Within the circles, he drew a crooked house with a chimney on top, from which three wisps of smoke curled upwards.
Zheng Yi stopped at the alley entrance, not in a hurry to go over. He leaned against the earthen wall in the corner, where thin ice from last night's freezing still clung, the icy shards making his shoulders feel cold. He just stood there quietly, watching for a full cup of tea's time.
After drawing the house, the boy drew a small figure next to it, holding a sword with the tip pointing at the house. Suddenly, he stopped drawing, stared at the sword for a long time, and then abruptly smeared the figure black with a fire poker, turning it into a dark blob like a burnt charcoal. He threw the fire poker on the ground, hugged his knees, buried his face in them, and his shoulders began to tremble.
Zheng Yi then walked over.
The footsteps were very light, making almost no sound as they stepped on the broken tiles.
The boy suddenly looked up.
Upon seeing the person who approached, he was first taken aback, then recognized him, and his eyes widened instantly. He jumped up, wanting to run, but Zheng Yi raised his hand to stop him.
"Don't run," Zheng Yi said softly. "I'm not here to arrest you."
The boy stopped, staring at him warily, his voice hoarse with the typical huskiness of a teenager going through puberty:
"Sir...how did you know I was here?"
Zheng Yi crouched down to look him in the eye:
"I heard that there is a child named Xiao Liu in the east of the city who refuses to go to the welfare home and sleeps in the brick kiln every day."
The boy—sixth grader—pouts:
"What business is it of theirs? I didn't steal or rob anything."
Zheng Yi nodded:
"I didn't steal or rob."
"But you're cold."
Xiao Liu looked down at his feet, which were frozen purple, and said in a muffled voice:
"I'm used to the cold."
Zheng Yi didn't respond to that.
He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a warm piece of sweet cake.
The sugar cake was steamed with glutinous rice and coated with a layer of brown sugar syrup. Steam was still rising from it, and the syrup clung to his fingers in strands. He handed the sugar cake over:
"Eat."
Xiao Liu hesitated for a moment, then took it and took a big bite. Syrup stuck to the corner of his mouth, and he wiped it with his sleeve, which was already dirty, making it even dirtier.
Zheng Yi watched him eat.
He waited until he finished eating before speaking:
Why not go to an orphanage?
Xiao Liu swallowed the crumbs of sugar cake, his voice hoarse:
"I'm not going."
"My father said before he died, a man cannot rely on others to support him."
Zheng Yi paused for a moment:
"How...did your father die?"
Xiao Liu lowered his head, his voice even softer:
“Last winter, there was a major flood in the east of the city. My father went to rescue people and was swept away by the water. His body was not found downstream until three days later… My mother died of illness the following year.”
He paused, his voice trembling with emotion:
"I don't want to owe anyone a favor."
"The welfare home...that's given to us by others."
Zheng Yi looked at him.
Her gaze was very gentle.
But it is also very heavy.
"You think... owing favors is shameful?"
Xiao Liu nodded vigorously:
"My dad always said that a man has to rely on himself."
Zheng Yi suddenly asked:
"So, when your father saved people... was it charity?"
Xiao Liu was taken aback.
Zheng Yi continued:
"How are the people your father saved doing now?"
Xiao Liu's voice trembled:
"They...they brought me rice a few times...but I didn't take it."
Zheng Yi nodded:
"Your father traded his life for theirs."
"Is that charity?"
Xiao Liu's tears fell.
He bit his lip hard:
"But I...I don't want to be a beggar..."
Zheng Yi reached out his hand.
Gently press on the top of his head.
The sound was very soft:
"You are not a beggar."
"You are... a child who wants to live."
"Your father risked his life to protect others."
"Now... it's someone else's turn to protect you."
Xiao Liu burst into tears.
I cried heartbreakingly.
Zheng Yi remained silent.
Just let him cry.
I've cried enough.
He then spoke:
"Orphanages are not places of charity."
"It is home."
"Home... is a place you can go back to."
Xiao Liu looked up.
Tears streamed down my face.
"Sir...can I...can I go?"
Zheng Yi nodded:
"can."
"Let's go now."
He stood up.
Take Xiao Liu's hand.
Xiao Liu's hands were ice cold.
But he held onto Zheng Yi tightly.
The two walked out of the brick kiln.
The snow is still falling.
It landed on their shoulders.
Xiao Liu suddenly stopped.
Look up at Zheng Yi:
"Sir...can I...protect others like you in the future?"
Zheng Yi looked at him.
Her gaze was very gentle.
The sound was very soft:
"can."
"Wait until you grow up."
"Yes, it will."
Xiao Liu nodded vigorously.
Tears fell again.
But she was smiling.
Zheng Yi held his hand.
We walked towards the welfare home.
The following morning, the area outside the North Training Ground of Hongyun City was already crowded with people. The sunlight after the snowfall made the bluestone ground appear white, the reflection dazzling. The air still carried the chill of the frozen earth from the previous night, mixed with the smell of freshly burned charcoal from the base of the city wall and the damp, fishy smell wafting from the distant river. On the flagpoles on either side of the main gate of the training ground, the newly replaced dark blue flags flapped loudly in the wind, the three characters "Hongyun Guard" embroidered in silver thread on the flags gleaming coldly in the sunlight, like three suspended knives.
More and more people gathered outside. Breakfast stalls were squeezed into corners, steaming pots of tofu pudding were pushed aside, a thin film of broth formed on the surface, and a few unsold fried dough sticks still hung on the wire mesh rack, their oil stains yellowing in the sunlight. Women stood on the outermost circle, holding their children, who peeked in on tiptoe, their bottoms lifted up by the adults. Several construction workers, covered in dust, still clutched their hammers, dried mud clinging to the handles, had just arrived from the construction site. Even a newborn baby from the East City Welfare Home, just a month old, was there, wrapped in a thick cotton coat by its mother, only its bright black eyes peeking out, blinking intently at the crowd. (End of Chapter)