Chapter Thirty-Two: Little Rock Village

As dawn broke, Lin San led his men away. The road to Wujiang City was rough, so he had to set out early. Before leaving, he cautioned Qin Zhen: if that Scar Brother came to stir up trouble again, just mention his name—Lin San from Cui City. If that didn’t work, then it was likely a bunch of ignorant petty thieves, and they deserved no mercy!

From this, it was clear Lin San’s connections ran deeper than Qin Zhen had imagined. Yet, one could not always rely on others. Qin Zhen had already discussed with Chen Shu the need to strengthen the village guard and the fishing crew’s training—not just in combat skills, but also in archery.

“To be honest, I’ve never raised fish before,” Miao Yun declared earnestly by the pond.

“I think if you leave this task to me, I’ll mess it up,” she went on, admitting she’d raised pigs and rabbits, but never fish.

“You managed to raise your junior brother this far, so a few fish are nothing!” Qin Zhen replied, full of trust. “Relax, fish just need water to live—they’re much easier than your junior brother. If they die, we can just catch more. Take your time and figure it out.”

The pond was merely a means to an end—a temporary warehouse for storing sea fish. Qin Zhen had no intention of raising fish in stagnant water. Once the Deepwater Bay facility was ready, that would be the true fishery. But for now, he needed to gain experience.

Uncle Li came running over. “Zhen’er, come take a look at the loom I’ve built, will you?”

Since Uncle Li’s leg improved, he’d become more spirited, so Qin Zhen entrusted him with the loom’s construction. It helped share Qin Zhen’s workload, and Uncle Li, being Li Han’s father, was trustworthy—especially since the loom was vital for the fishing village. Qin Zhen wouldn’t hand it to outsiders.

Thus, Uncle Li was now responsible not only for meals but also for building looms. He didn’t find it exhausting; instead, he was profoundly grateful to Qin Zhen. After years as an invalid, he’d finally found purpose. From this day, Uncle Li truly felt like a useful man.

“This part’s wrong, and there are flaws over there…” Qin Zhen patiently pointed out Uncle Li’s mistakes, explaining each detail as precisely as possible. Uncle Li listened intently, then slapped his forehead. “No wonder I felt something was off making this! So that’s it! Zhen’er, not to boast, but you really are a genius!”

With that, he rushed off without another word to tinker with the loom.

Qin Zhen then took out the Qianren silk, studying how to turn it into a fishing net.

Around noon, Li Erniu arrived with a large group. Seeing the lively fishing village, they all looked amazed.

“Brother Qin, I brought the people,” Li Erniu said nervously. “You said you could find work for us in your village—was that true?”

In a year of disaster, lives were worth little. Men could still labor for a living, but women were seen as burdens. Who would shelter women except for slavers?

“Of course,” Qin Zhen replied, setting aside his unfinished fishing net and looking over the newcomers from Xiaoyan Village.

A quick glance revealed fifty or sixty people, mostly everyone from the village except the elders he’d seen the day before. Many children were among them.

“Can any of you weave cloth?” Qin Zhen asked gently.

The villagers shrank back, intimidated by Qin Zhen. They’d heard from Li Erniu that Qin Zhen was the famous bear-slaying hero! Bears were terrifying; even bandits avoided them. If Qin Zhen had killed one, surely he was fiercer than any bandit.

Yet, seeing Qin Zhen’s youthful face and kind demeanor, they felt he must not be a bad person after all.

At his question, the villagers exchanged uncertain glances. Then the little girl from yesterday, Hua’er, raised her hand and answered in a childish voice, “We don’t know how!”

“That’s alright; we can teach you,” Qin Zhen smiled. “No need to worry. Let me explain a bit about our fishing village. We have a textile workshop. You’ll work in shifts—four hours per shift, and each shift earns three copper coins plus two meals.”

“Three coins? And meals included?” The villagers erupted in excitement.

They had lived their whole lives and never heard of such a thing.

“Brother Qin, you’re not tricking us, are you?” Li Erniu asked, stunned.

He grabbed Qin Zhen’s hand, both anxious and hopeful. “Weaving cloth gives you food and money? Please, don’t deceive us!”

“It’s true,” Miao Yun assured him. “Many refugees who fled here have settled in the fishing village and work in the textile workshop. If you don’t believe me, ask them yourself.”

“I, Qin Zhen, always keep my word. If you don’t trust me, stay a few days and see for yourselves. If you find my promises false, you’re free to leave!” Qin Zhen declared.

“We believe you!” Li Erniu replied quickly.

Though they hadn’t interacted much, his impression of Qin Zhen was good, and he trusted his character. Besides, Xiaoyan Village’s sick and elderly had nothing worth deceiving.

“But there’s one thing I must clarify,” Qin Zhen said firmly. “Since none of you know how to weave, you can’t work right away. You need training first. I’ll have someone teach you. Once your weaving meets the standard, then you can work in the textile workshop.”

“Until then, you won’t be paid. Each person will get two steamed buns and a bowl of rice porridge daily.”

Qin Zhen was not a philanthropist. The fishing village had to make a profit and could not feed everyone for free. To survive there, diligence was required.

“If after a month, anyone’s weaving still doesn’t meet the standard, you’ll have to find your own way to fill your bellies,” Qin Zhen told them. “Do you accept these terms?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” The women of Xiaoyan Village nodded eagerly.

Two buns and a bowl of porridge was heavenly for people used to surviving on wild greens. Not only did Qin Zhen not turn them away, he was willing to feed them for a month—he was like a living Buddha to them!

In that moment, the villagers knelt, bowing to Qin Zhen.

A month was plenty of time. Operating a loom was not difficult; if they couldn’t learn, they had no one to blame but themselves.

Li Erniu was so moved he could barely speak. “Brother Qin, I don’t know what to say. You’ve given our village a way to survive. I…I’ll bow to you! I swear I’ll learn to weave and never let down your kindness…”

“Hold on, hold on,” Qin Zhen said with a helpless laugh. “You’re a grown man—why would you weave cloth? Aren’t you coming with me to fish?”