52: Winter Undercurrents

Winter had arrived.

The north wind, like a sharpened blade, swept through the bare treetops, emitting mournful wails. With the New Year approaching, Su Family Village was filled with an oppression unlike previous years.

The papermaking Workshop in the center of the village, however, was bustling. Its scale had doubled compared to three months ago, and new chimneys continuously spewed white steam. The strong scent of lye and bamboo pulp enveloped most of the village, as if immersing the entire settlement in a vibrant, yet money-tinged, atmosphere. As the New Year approached, the output doubled.

The more than twenty newly hired men made the work shed feel cramped. They worked diligently, their clothes soaked with sweat, but their eyes lacked the reverence of the first batch of workers, showing instead more unconcealed calculation and ambition.

Su Ming carried a stack of freshly tallied account books through the work shed. Several new villagers were gathered, whispering amongst themselves, but immediately fell silent upon seeing him. Their gazes uniformly fell on him, as if appraising a valuable object. Su Ming's expression remained unchanged as he walked past with steady steps.

Lin Yu spoke languidly in his mind: "Disciple, do you see? This is human nature. The first batch followed and ate meat, feeling grateful. This second batch came sniffing the aroma of meat, and will only complain that too little meat was distributed, or even wonder why they aren't the ones distributing this pot of meat." His voice carried a hint of imperceptible weariness. For some time, he had been struggling to suppress the hidden power of the Ghost Lantern, and now he had finally achieved considerable success and could breathe a slight sigh of relief.

“This Disciple understands,” Su Ming replied in his mind.

"Good that you understand, but don't meddle in others' affairs," Lin Yu cautioned. "Since Village Head dared to openly recruit people, he has his own methods. We should just wait and see."

When the account books were delivered to Village Head, he was meticulously wiping his ever-present dry tobacco pipe with a soft cloth. Nearing the New Year, he was dressed more presentably than usual, his dark cotton robe starched impeccably.

"Uncle Zhao, these are the accounts up to the twentieth day of the twelfth lunar month. A total of thirty-eight thousand sheets of paper were produced. As you instructed, fifteen thousand were sold retail, and the rest were stored in the warehouse, awaiting merchants to pick them up in the spring," Su Ming said.

Village Head grunted in acknowledgment, took the account books, but didn't open them, placing them casually aside. He lifted his eyelids, his gaze lingering on Su Ming's face, those deep eyes seemingly able to see into people's hearts: "There have been quite a few... rumors in the village lately, haven't there?"

Su Ming's heart tightened slightly. He replied, "There have been some discussions. Mostly about the Workshop."

"Hmph, more than just discussions," Village Head sneered, tapping his tobacco pipe against the corner of the table with a dull thud. "Some people's hands are stretching too far, and their hearts have grown too wild."

Su Ming recalled seeing Su the Scabby stealthily huddling with a few new villagers at the village entrance earlier. They immediately dispersed when they saw him approaching. Su the Scabby's triangular eyes gleamed with ill intent, like a venomous snake hidden in the shadows.

He hesitated for a moment, then spoke: "Uncle Zhao, I just saw Su the Scabby..."

"No need to say more," Village Head interrupted, his tone calm but laced with bone-chilling coldness. "A wild dog that only circles in the gutter, can it really turn the world upside down? The livelier he jumps, the faster he dies."

He picked up his tobacco pipe again, slowly stuffing it with tobacco, his movements steady and devoid of any worldly concerns: "You are still young, you don't need to bother with these matters. Your duty is to study the sages' books well, keep the accounts clear, and provide technical guidance. As for other things, I will bear the brunt if the sky falls."

Su Ming assented and walked out.

The cold wind hit his face, making him shiver, but the unease in his heart did not dissipate. The festive cheer of the New Year seemed unable to disperse the oppressive feeling of an impending storm.

That night, the Su Family's small earthen house exceptionally lit two oil lamps, their dim yellow glow adding a touch of warmth to the humble home.

One was in the main room, where Madam Su Chen was busily sewing new clothes for the family by the light, humming an off-key tune. Her needlework conveyed an anticipation for the approaching New Year, the simplest happiness of ordinary folk.

The other was in Su Ming's room, its dim yellow glow illuminating the distinct contours of his handsome profile. A book lay open before him, but his thoughts were far from it.

"Master, can Uncle Zhao... truly keep those people in check?" Su Ming asked in his mind. "The village is like a pot of boiling water now; I'm afraid the lid will eventually be forced open."

"If it's forced open, then it's forced open. What concern is it of yours?" Lin Yu's tone was playful. "Could it be that you truly see yourself as the savior of Su Family Village?"

Su Ming was speechless: "I..."

"Disciple, let Master ask you, what does Village Head rely on to firmly hold his position?"

Su Ming pondered for a moment, then replied: "It's prestige, and also... profit."

"You're right, it's profit." Lin Yu's voice became a bit more serious. "He can gather people with profit, and naturally he also has harsher methods to deal with those who are restless. This is his ship, carrying the wealth of his Zhao Family, and he fears more than anyone that this ship will capsize."

Su Ming fell silent.

"Therefore, what you need to learn is not to help him steer, much less to think about repairing the ship." Lin Yu spoke each word, imprinting them into Su Ming's mind like an engraving. "What you need to learn is to find a piece of wood that can float for yourself before this ship is about to capsize."

Su Ming closed his eyes and concentrated, no longer overthinking. Following the method of the Breath Concealment Art taught by his Master, he gradually slowed his breathing, sinking his mind into the faint glow within his Dantian, then quietly extending his perception outward like a spiderweb.

He tried to imagine himself as a drop of water, merging into the earthen bed beneath him; transforming into a wisp of smoke, dissipating into the air inside the room.

After an unknown amount of time, a profound sensation emerged.

He "heard" it.

Not with his ears, but a direct perception originating from his mind.

He "heard" his father, Su Shan's, steady and prolonged snoring next door, with a rhythm like an old ox pulling a cart, as if he could feel the ebb and flow of Qi within his lungs.

He "heard" his mother's faint rustling as she threaded a needle in the main room, and could even "feel" the subtle resistance and slight friction of fabric fibers when the needle tip pierced the cotton cloth.

He slowly spread his "net."

In the courtyard, Old Huang Dog curled up in its nest, sleeping soundly, its tail twitching unconsciously, even its dream-like whimpers clearly audible.

In Widow Li's house to the east, her son was mumbling in his sleep, words unclear, but with a childish nasal tone.

At this moment, the entire Su Family Village seemed to transform into a world woven from countless subtle sounds and breaths, presenting itself clearly and three-dimensionally in his mind.

Just then, a stealthy figure entered his "net."

The footsteps were extremely light, deliberately slowed, landing in the shadows along the wall, avoiding the moonlight, like a nocturnal mouse.

It was Su the Scabby!

Su Ming's mind tensed.

He "saw" Su the Scabby creeping along the wall like a gecko, stealthily approaching the corner where waste materials were piled behind the Workshop—that was indeed the most lightly guarded spot.

Su the Scabby stopped, looked around, then pulled something from his Huai.

It was a tinderbox.

He wanted to set fire!

Su Ming was about to act when he suddenly sensed another presence. Two burly men silently darted out from the shadows, acting swiftly and decisively. One covered Su the Scabby's mouth and pinned his arms behind his back, while the other quickly snatched away the tinderbox. The entire process took but a breath, and Su the Scabby couldn't even let out a whimper before being dragged into deeper darkness, with no further sound.

A cold wind swept by, rustling a few withered leaves, as if nothing had happened, leaving only a faint, fleeting scent of blood in the air.

Su Ming slowly opened his eyes, his back slightly chilled. He knew that Su the Scabby, that "wild dog," had silently disappeared. Village Head's methods were far more decisive and ruthless than he had imagined.

Beneath the festive cheer of the New Year, the undercurrents in Su Family Village never ceased; instead, they grew more turbulent and unfathomable.