Chapter 34: A Display of Loyalty

Old Zhou watched as the young master stepped out of the tent, observing their group without uttering a word, and grew anxious.
“Young master, these are all that remain of our Zhou Family Village,” Old Zhou said, his voice catching with emotion.
“Fifteen children under fourteen, twelve married women, three elders over forty, and... and... three able-bodied... laborers...”
As he spoke the last words, his sorrowful voice carried a hint of embarrassment. This pitiful group—women, children, and the elderly—who would take them in? To shelter them would be a heavy burden. Old Zhou stole a glance at the youth seated above, whose stern face made his heart skip a beat, and his nerves wound tighter still.
Behind him, the kneeling villagers bowed their heads even lower, barely daring to breathe; even the youngest child, nestled in his mother’s arms, whimpered softly, not daring to cry aloud.
No one could have guessed that beneath the severe and cold countenance of the youth seated on the stone—Wang Keyue—her heart was blooming with joy. Wasn’t this a gift sent straight to her door?
She had just been pondering how to earn gratitude, and here it was, ready-made.
“I noticed your village had about a hundred people earlier. Where are the others?” Wang Keyue asked, feigning ignorance, intent on seeing how they would respond.
As expected, at her question, their faces shifted, sorrow and anger mingling with other unspoken emotions.
“Young master, those people... all fled,” Old Zhou replied in a low voice.
“If those who ran return, what will you do?” Wang Keyue pressed, her disgust for those who abandoned their kin in dire moments clear in her voice.

In such dire times, with knives pressed to the children’s throats, those people acted as if blind and deaf, fleeing for their own lives. If not for Wang Keyue’s swift action and precise arrows, those children—no, all those children—would have perished at the hands of the bandits.
No one expected the youth before them to ask such a question, and for a moment, no one dared speak.
Old Zhou was about to answer when Wang Keyue beat him to it, pointing to a thin boy of thirteen or fourteen. “What is your name?”
The boy’s body trembled, but he forced himself still, raising his mud-streaked face—his features indistinguishable, but his dark eyes were bright and clear. “Young master, my name is Zhou Mingkai.”
“Then you answer my question,” Wang Keyue said.
“I would treat them as a pack of ungrateful beasts!” Zhou Mingkai declared without hesitation, each word bitten off with fierce determination.
Wang Keyue found his answer amusing. Old Zhou quickly explained, “Young master, this lad is the elder brother of the child you saved. Both are orphans—their parents died fleeing disaster.”
As Old Zhou spoke, Zhou Mingkai pulled his little brother close, and together they kowtowed three times to Wang Keyue. “Thank you for saving our lives, young master. I, Zhou Mingkai, and my brother Shitou, swear our loyalty to you with our lives. If we ever betray you, may we die wretched deaths and may our ancestors never rest in peace!”
With Zhou Mingkai’s vow, a chime sounded in Wang Keyue’s mind: ‘Ding! Received two hearts of gratitude from Zhou Mingkai, one heart from Zhou Shitou.’
The villagers were stunned by Zhou Mingkai’s oath—who would pledge their ancestors in a vow? Ruthless indeed! Yet as they glanced at the young master, a rare smile softened that cold face.
Encouraged, the others soon followed suit, pledging their loyalty. In this round, fifteen more hearts of gratitude were gained. Of course, only the sensible children and adults could offer such pledges; some of the little ones barely spoke, and a few seemed clueless. But for now, nearly every adult contributed a heart of gratitude, with only two women left to observe.

“Chengyi, serve each person a bowl of porridge and bring out two cakes!” Wang Keyue instructed. Chengyi, standing by, distributed the prepared food to them.
As they received the coarse grain porridge, the chimes sounded again: ‘Ding! Received one heart of gratitude from Zhou Mingkai. One from Zhou Deren. One from Little Dog Egg. One from Little Girl. One from Zhou Xiaohu. Received…’
A string of notification sounds echoed in her mind, and in that instant, all thirty-three hearts of gratitude were gathered, including those from the children and the two women who hadn’t contributed before. Now, thanks to the food in their hands, the tally was complete. Wang Keyue’s task was more than fulfilled—fifty-one hearts of gratitude in all.
“Host, your task is complete. Would you like to submit it now?” 9538 asked.
“How much time remains?” Wang Keyue inquired.
“Twenty minutes left,” 9538 replied.
With twenty minutes remaining, she could still earn a few more gratitude points.
“Chengyi, fetch the two bolts of gray hemp cloth from the ox cart.” After giving the order, she retrieved a handful of fruit candies and some cotton from her system storage.
Outside, the thirty or so people gathered around the bonfire had just finished their porridge. Each clutched a large cake, too precious to eat, wrapped tightly in their clothing and held close. Fear of hunger had made them cherish every morsel.