The fields surrounding the tribe carried a newfound warmth as more land was turned over through the Green Sparrow Tribe's efforts.
Moist earth was exposed to the air, carrying a fresh, pleasant scent.
Snow and cold weren’t without their benefits. The thick layers of snow provided ample moisture to the soil while also freezing many pests to death, effectively reducing the chances of disease and insect infestations.
The mild spring sun shone down upon the land while the still-chilly breeze stirred Han Cheng’s sleeves.
Standing with his hands behind his back, the great shaman of the tribe held a brush in one hand, stepping back to admire his handiwork carefully.
His calligraphy wasn’t particularly refined, but the aning behind it was profound.
No matter how poorly the character “demolish” (拆) was written in the later generations, many still wished for it to appear in their hos.
Because that character represented the revival of a family’s fortune, the promise of abundant wealth, and the ability to drive a nice car to work—while having the confidence to quit a job the mont things beca unsatisfactory.
With that character, many who experienced sudden wealth grew more composed, patient, and tolerant in their dealings with others.
Compared to the traditional “fortune” (福) character pasted on doors during the New Year, the implications of “demolish” far exceeded re festive wishes.
No matter how beautifully “fortune” was written, whether pasted upright or upside down, it could never compare to the tangible impact of “demolish.”
In the later generations, Han Cheng’s hotown was so remote that even after decades, no such character would appear on its houses.
That was one of the reasons he still had to take on solo missions during Valentine’s Day.
Humans were like that—the more they lacked sothing, the more they yearned for it.
Unable to see the “demolish” character appear in his future in the modern world, Han Cheng now took it upon himself to write this symbol of prosperity on the walls of the tribe.
He knew that writing it here wouldn’t serve any purpose, but sotis, just looking at it was enough to make one’s heart race with anticipation.
After admiring his work, Han Cheng moved to another wall section to write the sa character again.
As he was writing, a sudden thought flashed through his mind—a brilliant idea that made his heart ache with regret.
If only, before going on his blind dates, he had taken the initiative to write this character in his own house and those of his neighbors. Perhaps the results of those etings would have been entirely different!
The realization ca too late, leaving him wallowing in deep regret. Why hadn’t he thought of such a good idea sooner?
After dwelling on this lost opportunity for a while, Han Cheng picked up his clay pot and large brush and headed back to the tribe.
From a distance, he spotted his son wiggling inside a crude baby walker, with Baixue pushing it along. Shaking his head, he brushed away the jumble of thoughts.
Ultimately, it was probably a good thing no one had chosen him back then. Otherwise, he would have had even more ties and responsibilities in this era.
Thinking this, he let out a small huff. In the modern world, no woman had wanted him, but now? Now, he was a hot commodity. With a single word from him, the tribe's won would line up to dry him.
Smirking to himself, Han Cheng ntally criticized all the won from his past blind dates for failing to recognize the gold beneath the dust.
Filled with a strong sense of spiritual victory, he cheerfully walked over to tease his chubby son.
He glanced at the black ink still on his hands as he reached his child. An idea sparked in his mind, and he imdiately started “styling” little Pea.
With Han Cheng’s ticulous touch, a brand-new look was born—a tiny old man in crotchless pants sitting in a baby walker.
Baixue was laughing so hard she could barely stand. Squatting on the ground, clutching her stomach, she even had tears streaming down her face.
After finally suppressing her laughter, she glanced up at the clueless little Pea sitting in the walker… and instantly doubled over again, holding her stomach as the laughter resud.
Even Han Cheng, the mastermind behind the prank, couldn’t help but burst into laughter as he admired his handiwork.
Hmm, these two are his biological parents.
Having a child and not using them for a bit of fun? That would be not very sensible.
Grinning from ear to ear as he admired little Pea in his "old man" getup, Han Cheng felt quite pleased with himself...
Ti passed as everyone busied themselves with work. As the sky darkened, the Eldest Senior Brother, who had been leading the fieldwork, finally struck the wooden clapper in his hand.
The sound signaled the end of the workday. Upon hearing it, so people imdiately put down their tools, hoisted them onto their shoulders, and began walking back.
Others glanced at the small patch of land still left unturned, took a few extra swings with their hoes to finish up, and only then made their way ho.
As the leader of the tribe and one of its most dedicated core mbers, Senior Brother had an undeniable love for hard work.
Even though he was the one who rang the clapper, he didn’t leave imdiately. Instead, he waited until most others had left before picking up his tools and following behind.
Don’t underestimate this extra bit of effort—over the years, these accumulated monts ant that Eldest Senior Brother had turned over far more land than those who stopped working at the first sound of the clapper.
“What’s going on?”
After walking for a while, Eldest Senior Brother noticed that the ones who had left earlier hadn’t returned to their courtyards as usual. Instead, they had stopped before the main gate, forming a huddle, pointing and discussing sothing in hushed voices.
Uncertain of the situation, he muttered before stepping forward to investigate.
Thanks to Han Cheng’s strict policies—covering everything from physical discipline with a ruler to forced writing drills—most of the Green Sparrow Tribe mbers could recognize at least a few words.
Even those who couldn’t read had no problem, as soone had already started reading aloud for everyone.
“‘Demolish’? What does this an?”
Eldest Senior Brother stared at the character on the wall, just as confused as the others.
When he heard that it was Han Cheng’s writing, the confusion among the crowd deepened. Why had the divine child suddenly written this word on the courtyard wall?
An elder from the tribe, who had spent the day working alongside Dou, thought for a mont before sharing so of the things Han Cheng had said earlier.
As a result, the already confused crowd beca even more bewildered. Did this sturdy wall need to be torn down?
Unlike Han Cheng, who felt excitent whenever he saw the character “demolish” a building, the tribe's people were filled with shock and even a hint of fear.
Watching this, Han Cheng couldn’t help but sniffle in exasperation.
The impact of writing “demolish” at the gate beca apparent almost imdiately. During dinner, quite a few people hesitated before making their way over to him, stamring as they tried to convince him not to tear down the walls.
After dinner, Eldest Senior Brother and the others arrived one after another, all with the sa unspoken plea.
“Finish the spring planting first. We’ll talk about this later!”
After being bombarded by waves of people, Han Cheng finally lost his patience. He lifted his foot and kicked each of the intruders twice on the backside, driving them all out of the house.
His frustration was justified. It wasn’t just that people kept coming—it was how they looked at him, wide-eyed and innocent, as if he had stolen their prized leg of lamb.
A few of these looks were manageable, but it beca unbearable when too many people did it.
Having finally lost his temper, Han Cheng was blissfully silent.
“Damn it… I’ll have to show these short-sighted fools so real skills to open their eyes.”
Muttering under his breath, Han Cheng sniffled again as he began plotting his next big move...
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