C16 Monkey Zou Cang

"Fatty, what's the meaning of this? How could you bring a stranger into someone's private room and spy on their secrets after just one day? How are you going to explain yourself!"

An angry bellow intermingled with the scent of stinky socks and the whooshing sound of wind smacked Nie Haiyuan's broad face like clockwork.

At that moment, Jing Chong was utterly baffled. Did everyone in the ninth shed's tenth squad have such a quirky personality? Why did each one seem more peculiar than the last?

A lowly patrol soldier had the audacity to fling stinky socks at his own captain. The situation was so illogical that Jing Chong couldn't help but blurt out in response, "Peeking at secrets?"

His voice was soft, yet it struck a chord. The gaunt man across from him jolted as if electrified, quickly pulling up the fallen blanket to shield his body, particularly the lower part, which he covered tightly.

By this time, Nie Haiyuan seemed to snap out of his initial disarray. Casually tossing the stinky socks to the ground, he still wore an unabashed grin. His crescent-shaped eyes twinkled with a sleaziness and mischief that only an adult could possess, as his sinister laughter spread without restraint.

"Hehe, Monkey, who would've thought that in just a few days, that thing of yours has grown a bit more!"

Nie Haiyuan's wide smile and shaking shoulders were so intense that he was brought to tears of laughter.

Yet, the man before him took Nie Haiyuan's words to heart. After a moment of bewildered thought, he reflexively lifted the blanket to peek inside, then murmured with a sudden realization, "I do feel like it's grown a bit longer. Damn it, my hair won't grow, but that thing, I, Zou Cang, can't eat it for dinner no matter how fast it grows!"

No sooner had he spoken than he grasped the full implication of his words. When he noticed the intense gazes of the two people still standing before him, his once innocent eyes vanished, replaced by two lines of scalding tears.

"This isn't fair! You shameless bully, picking on the honest folk. Now that you've seen all my secrets, how am I supposed to live?!"

With that, he wrapped himself in his blanket and curled up in the corner, weeping bitterly.

The abrupt change took Jing Chong by surprise, leaving him somewhat bewildered. What was going on? He still couldn't fathom what the big secret was all about!

Was it just that it was a bit larger than average? What was so unspeakable about that? It seemed like an overreaction to him.

And then there was the man, sleeping naked in his bed as if inviting trouble.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, Jing Chong cast a doubtful glance at Nie Haiyuan, as if to say, "You stirred this up, shouldn't you at least offer some words of comfort?"

But Nie Haiyuan, accustomed to his dignity, responded with a nonchalant air, "Don't mind him. We have our own work to do!"

It's true what they say: the team reflects its leader. Jing Chong could hardly imagine the level of eccentricity in a team led by someone like Nie Haiyuan.

He had only met one person today, with eight more to go. Perhaps, as Nie Haiyuan mentioned, they worked the day shift while this one was on the night shift. Jing Chong found himself increasingly curious to meet the other eight.

Yet Nie Haiyuan, who had brought him here, seemed to revere the bed like an ancestor, plopping down and not getting up again. Within fifteen minutes, he was already snoring away.

Jing Chong silently cursed the situation. This was no way for a team leader to behave, leaving him to fend for himself without even arranging a place to sleep! Nie Haiyuan had sprawled out on the large wooden bed, leaving Jing Chong hanging. It was utterly irresponsible.

Shaking his head, Jing Chong realized he had to deal with the reality of the messy environment. With survival at stake, his first order of business was a thorough cleaning.

He had no luggage to speak of; the only presentable item was the new outfit he'd been given, which he tossed onto the bed against the wall. He then pondered his next move.

After some thought, he decided the environment needed a complete overhaul. Wanting to make a good impression upon his arrival, he didn't bother to consult with Nie Haiyuan, who was out cold. Jing Chong stepped outside, grabbed a broom, and began to sweep.

He started with the fruit peels and leftover rice inside, moving on to the torn clothes and socks. After clearing nearly a basketful of trash from the large room, he finally started to see some order emerge.

Wiping the sweat from his face, Jing Chong suddenly realized that this simple life had its charms. The fundamental sense of fulfillment was enough to make one forget all worries.

Lost in thought while leaning on his broom, Jing Chong felt a sudden weight on his shoulder, as if someone had given him a pat. Turning around, he was met with a gaunt face, dark and lean. The eyes were small but not at all irritating, set beneath a high nose and above a wide mouth. The figure towering a good half foot over Jing Chong made the casual slap on the shoulder seem all the more effortless.

Recognizing the face, Jing Chong gave the man a once-over and noticed he was wearing a long, gray and white robe that hung loosely on his slender frame, covering everything that ought to be covered.

Being so close, Jing Chong could tell that the man wasn't much older than a teenager, perhaps 17 or 18 years old at most. This realization unexpectedly bridged the gap between them.

The man was Zou Cang, the skinny, eccentric fellow from before. Jing Chong had learned his name through their conversation. The name didn't quite fit the man, but his nickname was apt—he truly resembled a large monkey.

"Hey, buddy, what's your name? Did that kid Nie Haiyuan con you into coming here?" Zou Cang asked with a carefree attitude, a stark contrast to his earlier sobbing. His abrupt shift in demeanor caught Jing Chong off guard.

Despite the surprise, Jing Chong's resolve remained unshaken. He gave Zou Cang a cool glance and simply stated, "Jing Chong."

Zou Cang seemed unaccustomed to such a lukewarm response, but he thrived on indifference. "Jing Chong, that's a pretty bold name, and you seem just as bold. I like that!" he said, snatching the broom from Jing Chong's hand and starting to sweep. "You know, despite Nie Haiyuan being a young liar, he's not a bad guy. At least we get our fill in the ninth and tenth squads of Skyreach Keep. I've been at Blood Razor Keep for nine years and in this tenth squad for three. I'm pretty content! The only downside is having a name that doesn't sound too great."

Jing Chong had never expected that this seemingly insignificant thug named Zou Cang would turn out to have such a warm heart. His words quickly thawed the chill in Jing Chong's own heart, but being a man of few words, Jing Chong could only respond with a faint smile.

The atmosphere grew somewhat awkward as Jing Chong remained silent, but Zou Cang didn't seem to mind. He happily bustled about, attending to various tasks. Clearly, he wasn't the lazy type at all. But then, why was the large dormitory of Squad 10 still uncleaned?

It reminded Jing Chong of the old saying: "One monk will shoulder the water to drink, two monks will lift the water to drink, but when there are too many monks, there’s no water left to drink." After pondering this to himself, Jing Chong could only shake his head in resignation. Yet, as his head shook, a sudden thought struck him.

He spun around, his eyes wide and face flushed with excitement, and blurted out, "Do you know martial arts?" This question was more pertinent than Zou Cang realized. Jing Chong's true purpose for coming to Blood Razor Keep wasn't because he'd been duped by Nie Haiyuan; it was to learn martial arts and seek vengeance for his parents.

Even though he had found his father's "Battle Wolf Saber Technique" hidden in the walls of his home, it was completely foreign to him, as he had no prior experience with martial arts. Moreover, in the past few days, his focus had been solely on survival, leaving him no time to study the saber technique.

Having learned that Zou Cang had been at Blood Razor Keep for nine years, Jing Chong assumed he must know the keep's inner workings quite well. On a whim, he had asked the question.

"Martial arts? You must be joking," Zou Cang scoffed. "How could a lowly soldier like me ever learn martial arts? To be trained at the Hall of Instruction, the requirements are extremely strict. You need to contribute five horseshoes of silver each month. And even if you have the silver, without talent, they won't teach you. They're afraid of wasting a fine technique on the unworthy! As for us in the ninth and tenth squads of Skyreach Keep, forget about it. We're stuck with a captain who's so incompetent he's never killed a man in his life. He still owes a contribution of five horseshoes of silver, and we're barely scraping by on the keep's minimal sustenance allowance!"

As Zou Cang spoke, he shook his head in a manner that conveyed a complete lack of confidence in life, seemingly content with just getting by in his current state.

This display of resignation couldn't help but instill a sense of disappointment in Jing Chong.

After nine years, Zou Cang must have joined Blood Razor Keep when he was only eight or nine years old. Those years of grueling experiences had eroded the youthful passion that once defined him, turning him into someone who merely existed for the sake of survival.

And what about me? I'm already twelve this year. If I continue to languish unnoticed in the ninth and tenth squads, I might never fulfill my duty to avenge my parents and honor my grandfather's memory.

This realization filled him with a growing sense of urgency.

Yet, faced with his current circumstances, he could only lament the unfairness of his fate that had brought him so much suffering.

But then he reconsidered. Despite the numerous trials he had endured, if fate insisted on a life of pain, then he was determined to make it a spectacular one, just to spite the cruel heavens.

He refused to believe that there was absolutely no way out of this dire situation. Was it not just a matter of pledging loyalty? Was it not just about contributing silver? Given time, he was certain he would seize what he needed.