The three of them ran slowly while greeting the villagers, so heading to the fields to harvest wheat, children aged three to five playing in front of their hos, and the village life so peaceful.
Every lap running around the ironwood palisade felt like wringing the last drops of water and strength from their already exhausted bodies. Sweat mixed with the dried river mud on their robes.
Mingling, although still excited about the Ginseng discovery, was suffering the most. He ran with short, staggering steps.
"This... this is more torturous than the Muddy Forest Bear!" Mingling grumbled, glancing at Bashan and Zhuwei who stood like statues at the edge of the wheat field, watching them with cold composure.
"Just enjoy it, Ming," retorted Tang, who was trying to maintain a steady breathing rhythm. The wound on his shoulder was almost healed, but the bruises on his body refused to recover quickly.
"Grandfather Wu does this so we'll be strong. After this, we'll be Divine Wheel heroes!"
As they passed the food warehouse, Aunt Lian, the kind village cook who always prepared pancakes, stood at the door, shaking her head.
"Oh, these naughty children!" Aunt Lian exclaid, holding a wooden spoon in her hand. "How dare you make Grandfather Wu angry! I heard from the village farrs that you tried to find Ginseng without permission! You are so greedy, even though your dinner plates are always full!"
"We just wanted to help, Aunt Lian!" Mingling shouted, trying to defend himself without stopping his steps.
"Help with what?!" Aunt Lian countered, pretending to be angry. "Coming back with bruised bodies and nearly drowning! I won't make you any wheat pancakes for a whole week as extra punishnt!"
The threat was far more effective than Grandfather Wu's staff. Mingling almost cried, but Tang imdiately comforted him. "Calm down, Ming! I'll share my portion!"
They continued running. When they passed the goat pen area, a group of small children about six years old were playing with self-made wooden toys. They imdiately stopped playing and stared directly at the three dirty youths.
"Look! Big brother Mingling is being punished again!" exclaid a little boy nad Pao, pointing at Mingling with his wooden toy sword.
A little girl nad i, with two cute braided pigtails, folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. "Big brother Zhi Xuan and big brother Tang too. Grandfather Wu must be very angry. Grandfather Wu always says, a strong foundation doesn't need shortcuts."
"You should have hit the grain sack patiently!" interjected another boy who looked the biggest, Matou. "If you hit harder, Grandfather Wu wouldn't be angry!"
Mingling, who was exhausted, felt emotional. Being humiliated by small children was the peak of today's tornt. "Shut up, you whining kids!" Mingling yelled, his breath catching. "You don't know anything! We just ca back from a life-and-death fight! We brought back treasure!"
"What treasure?" Pao asked innocently. "Is it the blind spider from the Bat Cave? Uncle Xu always shows off dead spiders the most!"
"Not a spider!" Mingling scread, his face flushing. "It's Pure Forest Ginseng! Do you know what Ginseng is?! It can make my steps feel like flying!"
"Ginseng for stomach aches?" i retorted doubtfully. "My mother says it's for massaging soone's back. If big brother Mingling wants to fly, big brother should practice static horse stance more."
"Argh! I'll go crazy!" Mingling scread softly and sped up his pace, leaving the children behind.
Tang burst into laughter, although his laughter sounded dry and hoarse. "Those children are right, Ming! Grandfather Wu's words really sink into their brains!"
Zhi Xuan chid in with a subtle tease, shaking his head gently. "Don't pout, Ming, or Lin won't like you anymore."
Tang and Zhi Xuan chased Mingling, who was now running with a painful, hasty gait, driven by sha. As they passed the main square, where several village girls—including Lin, the weaver girl who most often caught Mingling's attention—were sitting in a group under a starfruit tree, weaving bright fabrics, Mingling suddenly slowed down.
He imdiately tried to tidy his dirty, matted hair, and straightened his back, trying hard to look less dishevelled or out of breath.
"Lin must not see like this!" Mingling whispered, his voice containing a mortal panic greater than when facing the hunter's arrow.
Mingling, driven by a panic greater than the threat of death, suddenly increased his pace to an awkward and painful run, trying to create a little distance from Zhuwei and Bashan before reaching the group of weaving girls. He rubbed his hair, trying to wipe the dried mud clinging to his cheek, but he only managed to sar it more.
"You're crazy, Ming! Your heart is going to explode!" Tang exclaid, panting while chasing behind him, tightly clutching his Ginseng.
"I'd rather die from an exploding heart than be seen by Lin in this state!" Mingling retorted, his tone hysterical. He turned to Zhi Xuan, his face pleading. "Zhi! Help! How do I make myself look less like a duck that just ca out of rotten mud?!"
Zhi Xuan, whose breathing remained controlled despite forcing a slight tremor in his shoulders to appear consistent with his status, only smiled faintly. "Too late, Ming. But you can do two things: First, stop whining. Second, look her in the eyes, and act as if you've just returned from a deliberate heroic journey. Don't hide the bruises, consider them dals."
Mingling took a deep breath, imitating Bashan, although the result was a raspy cough. "dals. Okay. dals. I am a hero."
As they reached the area under the starfruit tree, where the village bustle faded slightly, the group of weaving girls, busy with rainbow-coloured threads, raised their heads. Lin, with her long single braid and soft brown eyes, smiled faintly towards Mingling.
Mingling imdiately slowed down. He couldn't run past Lin like a scared rat. He had to take the dramatic step Zhi Xuan suggested. He stopped abruptly, almost causing the exhausted Tang to crash into him from behind.
"Damn it, Ming! Keep running!" Tang hissed.
Mingling ignored him. He stepped forward, forcing a tired and confident smile onto his dirty face, moving toward Lin.
"Lin!" Mingling exclaid, his voice sounding too loud. He quickly adjusted. "Ah, Lin. You all... are weaving so diligently. A beautiful sight."
Lin chuckled softly, her laughter as gentle as the sound of a bell. "Mingling. You just returned from Grandfather Wu's horse stance training? Aunt Lian said you've been very diligent today."
"More than diligent, Lin," Mingling retorted, nudging Zhi Xuan. "We just returned from... a very extre foundation purification journey. We had to search for rare dicinal roots for Grandfather Wu."
Another girl, Hua i, squinted. "But I heard from Uncle Xu that you were only punished to run around the village for being too greedy in taking Ginseng from a forbidden area."
Mingling flinched, his face flushing again. However, he managed to recover, rembering Zhi Xuan's advice. "That... that's just a rumor, i. Grandfather Wu only wanted us to train endurance. The Ginseng was just an excuse. We must be a good example for the Divine Wheel!"
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While Mingling was showing off his mud-caked arm, which he considered a heroic dal, Zhi Xuan's gaze swept the surroundings. Behind them, about twenty steps away, Zhuwei stood beside Bashan. Zhuwei, usually cold and unemotional, was now staring straight at the square.
However, Zhuwei's eyes were not focused on the showing-off Mingling or the panting Tang. His eyes were fixed on one of the weaving girls sitting closest to Lin: Yun Xiao.
Yun Xiao was a village girl with neatly braided raven hair, and her large eyes were now fixed on Zhuwei, but not with admiration—rather with an expression of disapproval and slight hidden mockery.
Zhuwei, feeling the gaze of Zhi Xuan and the girl, imdiately cleared his throat loudly. He slightly raised Bashan's staff—which contained iron sand, a very heavy staff—and pointed towards them with a cold and firm deanor.
"Zhi Xuan, Tang, Mingling! Keep running! You are wasting ti!" Zhuwei yelled, his voice flat, but there was a slight tremor that only Zhi Xuan, now with heightened senses, could hear.
Zhi Xuan, seeing the ga, smirked faintly. Zhuwei, the ice-face, apparently had a weakness.
Mingling, seeing the usually calm and controlled Zhuwei speak in a slightly strange tone, turned his head. He saw Zhuwei's unfocused gaze, not on them, but on the group of girls. Mingling followed Zhuwei's gaze and realized that Zhuwei was looking at Yun Xiao, the girl known for her intelligence and often debating village matters with Zhuwei.
A crazy idea popped into Mingling's head. He had been insulted, he had been threatened with a pancake ban, and he had just risked his life! Now was the ti for revenge on Zhuwei, the cold supervisor.
"Hey! Zhuwei!" Mingling exclaid, ignoring the tension on Zhuwei's face. Mingling suddenly grabbed Zhuwei's arm and pulled him, dragging the nervous Zhuwei towards the group of weaving girls.
Zhuwei was shocked! His eyes widened, and for the first ti, he lost his composure. He stumbled, the heavy Bashan staff almost falling from his hand.
"Mingling! What are you doing?! Run!" Zhuwei whispered, his voice containing a mixture of threat and extre panic. He tried to pull his hand away, but Mingling, driven by adrenaline and revenge, held on tightly.
"I will run, Zhuwei! But you can't just stand there and watch us like a numb statue! You have to interact with the villagers! You are too much of a loner!" Mingling shouted, his voice ringing out and making so girls chuckle softly.
Zhi Xuan and Tang, watching this chaos, couldn't suppress their laughter, although their laughter sounded like the grunt of a sick horse.
Within seconds, Mingling had dragged Zhuwei, the very cautious ice-face, in front of Yun Xiao.
"Yun Xiao!" Mingling exclaid, his face beaming. "Zhuwei wants to say sothing to you! He is very inspired by your colourful threads! He says he has never seen weaving skills this beautiful!"
Zhuwei, who was now standing awkwardly, with his arm tightly held by Mingling and the heavy Bashan staff in his hand, his face flushed crimson. This was the first ti he had been exposed in such an embarrassing position. All the girls were staring at him, including Yun Xiao.
Yun Xiao raised her thin eyebrows, a small, sly smile appearing on her lips. "Oh really? Colourful threads? Zhuwei usually only cares about the sharpness of his knife. What do you want to say, Zhuwei?"
Zhuwei swallowed hard. He shifted his gaze from Yun Xiao to Zhi Xuan, as if pleading for help. Zhi Xuan only shrugged, suppressing his laughter.
"I... I just..." Zhuwei stamred, searching for an excuse. His eyes fixed on the embroidery on Yun Xiao's lap. He saw a silver thread there. "I just wanted to... inform Yun Xiao... that your embroidery... has an uneven silver thread. It will... compromise the efficiency of sales at the Exchange Market."
Silence fell. Then, Lin and the other girls burst into laughter. Yun Xiao, however, did not laugh. Her eyes narrowed again.
"Sales efficiency?" Yun Xiao retorted, her tone calm and slightly challenging. "Of course, Zhuwei. I will fix this silver thread."
The three of them stood frozen in place, watching the chaos Mingling created. Zhuwei looked like he was trapped inside a snail shell, his face crimson with sha.
"Sales efficiency!" Tang chuckled softly, slapping his knee, but imdiately groaned because of the pain in his bruises. "Zhuwei! You are truly a master of romantic words!"
"Shut up, Tang!" Zhuwei hissed, his voice containing a threat he rarely showed. He finally managed to pull his arm free from Mingling's grip. He held Bashan's staff in front of his chest, like a shield.
Yun Xiao smirked, her faint smile looking sweeter because of the hidden mockery. She deliberately picked up the silver thread on her lap. "Thank you for the 'feedback,' Zhuwei. I'll make sure to give you a special discount when I sell it to the next rchant."
"I... I don't need a discount," Zhuwei replied quickly, then regretted his words.
"I an... I don't need the fabric. I need tranquility!"
"Oh, really?" Lin, the sweet girl, exclaid, laughing. She looked at Mingling with eyes sparkling with amusent. "Mingling, you've run so far. You look very thirsty."
Lin imdiately stood up and, before Mingling could answer, she took the water cup by her side. "Here. Drink this. Grandfather Wu won't be angry if you drink water in the middle of the square, will he?"
Mingling, seeing Lin offering the cup of water to him, imdiately forgot about Zhuwei, the Ginseng, and even Aunt Lian's pancake ban. His dirty, sweaty face now shone with happiness.
"Lin! You... you are a kind angel!" Mingling exclaid, taking the cup of water with a trembling hand. He stared at the cup for a mont, as if it were the highest-grade Spirit Purification Pill, before gulping down the contents.
"Thank you, Lin!" he said, inhaling with relief.
Tang, who witnessed the scene, imdiately stepped forward, his face pleading. "Lin, too! I'm the most exhausted! I'm the biggest! I need water to restore my muscles!"
Lin, with her sweet smile, only took Mingling's empty cup. "Sorry, Tang. I only have one cup. I have to refill it again. You have to be patient."
Mingling, feeling triumphant, nudged Tang. "See, Tang! I got preferential treatnt! You are too greedy for Lin! You must learn to be a non-greedy hero, like !"
"A hero who almost died in the river!" Tang countered, pouting.
While this mortal hustle and bustle was going on, Zhi Xuan remained silent, observing the interaction between Zhuwei and Yun Xiao. Zhuwei, freed from Mingling's grip, did not return to Bashan. Instead, he remained standing there, like a magnet drawn to Yun Xiao, but defensively.
"Your embroidery is good, Yun Xiao," Zhuwei said, his voice now returning to his cold and analytical tone. "But you should use the 'Coiling Dragon' knot on your fabric edge. Your current knot, the 'Weeping Butterfly,' is too weak. It will tear in the first rain."
Yun Xiao calmly put down her fabric. Her large, sharp eyes were now fully focused on Zhuwei. "The 'Weeping Butterfly' knot is an ancient knot. It symbolizes gentleness that absorbs the blow of the storm, not a rigid knot like your 'Coiling Dragon.' Besides, Zhuwei, you've been watching our weaving all morning, haven't you? You weren't watching them run, were you?"
Zhuwei flinched. He shifted his gaze to Bashan, who only shook his head, a faint smile on his face.
"I... I was just watching them! Of course, I was watching them!" Zhuwei exclaid, his voice slightly raised. "But as a good Head Supervisor, I also have to ensure our village products are not... structurally compromised!"
Lin, who had returned with a newly filled cup of water, offered it to Tang. "Don't listen to Zhuwei, Yun Xiao. He's just too tense. He needs a rest."
Tang gulped down the water. "True! Zhuwei needs Pure Forest Ginseng! That can cure his tension!"
Zhuwei imdiately glared at Tang. "Don't ntion the Ginseng!" he whispered, barely audible. Zhuwei knew that if Grandfather Wu heard the word Ginseng again, he would be punished for failing to supervise.
Yun Xiao chuckled softly. "Ginseng? I heard Ginseng is only for stomach aches. Zhuwei, do you have a stomach ache worrying about my knot?"
"I don't have a stomach ache!" Zhuwei yelled, then imdiately lowered his voice. "I have to return to Bashan! Continue your running! Fifty laps! Don't stop!"
Zhuwei turned abruptly, almost tripping over Bashan's staff. He strode quickly back to Bashan's side, his face still red with embarrassnt.
Mingling, fully recovered thanks to the water from Lin, burst into hearty laughter. "Hahaha! We did it, Zhi! We embarrassed Zhuwei! This is better than wheat pancakes!"
Zhi Xuan smiled faintly. He saw Zhuwei return to Bashan, standing stiffly, as if he were a palisade post. Bashan rely patted Zhuwei's shoulder, Bashan's expression showing rare pity.
"Enough fun," Zhi Xuan whispered, pulling Mingling and Tang away from Lin and Yun Xiao. "Zhuwei is sufficiently embarrassed. Our run is not over yet."
They hurried to resu their running laps, leaving the hustle and bustle of the square behind. However, the running now felt lighter. They were not just running because of punishnt; they were running because they shared a secret, a treasure unknown to anyone else.
"You're crazy, Ming," Zhi Xuan said, running. "Zhuwei will kill you later."
"I don't care," Mingling retorted, his tone joyful. "I embarrassed him in front of Yun Xiao! I am the Divine Wheel hero today!"
They completed their remaining laps, with Zhuwei watching them while running beside them. As they finished the final lap, Bashan was waiting for them at the edge of the wheat field. He shook his head at the sight of the exhausted Mingling and the annoyed Zhuwei.
"You three are truly outrageous," Bashan said, sighing deeply, taking his staff back. "I will give Mingling extra punishnt for dragging into this chaos."
Mingling only laughed hoarsely. "I don't care! I got the Ginseng! And Zhuwei is embarrassed!"
Bashan turned to Zhuwei, who rely snorted. Then, Bashan looked at Zhi Xuan, his gaze calm and attentive.
"Go. Clean yourselves up."
The three of them stumbled back to the hut, leaving Zhuwei and Bashan in the wheat field. A comfortable silence enveloped them. Inside the hut, Tang carefully placed his bag containing the Ginseng under his bed. Mingling did the sa.
Zhi Xuan, without wasting ti, imdiately headed to his own bed. He lay his body on the slightly rough cot, closing his eyes. He had decided, that he would pursue the Divine Wheel together with his friends.
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