Can't Just Work a Man to Death

"An architect, huh..." A glint of envy flashed in the eyes of the bronze-skinned man walking behind Wang Kui. While architects were by no means the strongest cultivators in terms of raw combat power, they undeniably enjoyed the highest status. After all, no matter how strong a cultivator was, there was a limit—when night fell, they still had to huddle near a campfire. In this world, hunkering down and holding out was the only way to survive. The notion of some cultivator charging recklessly into the darkness to slaughter in all directions didn't exist; it was pure fantasy. "This time, the Chen family has truly lost a treasure. If Clan Head Chen found out about this, he'd probably cough up blood from pure rage." "Still... Stationmaster, shouldn't we report this to the clan? Chen Fan certainly won't go back to the Chen family now, and he's an architect who just awakened and has no faction behind him. If we can get the clan to send people to recruit him, wouldn't that be a tremendous achievement for us?" The man's eyes darted about excitedly. "Xiao Qiu." Wang Kui didn't answer immediately. Only after a pause did he pat the man on the shoulder. "I joined the Wang family when I was twenty, and I've been a stationmaster for a full thirteen years. What kind of job do you think a stationmaster is?" "It sounds glamorous—at least you have a petty title." "In truth, you're just scraping together wealth for the family in a perilous place. To put it bluntly, we're worker bees in a hive. Our destined lot in life is to work ourselves to death, or drop dead during some ghost tide, all for a measly monthly stipend of ten ghost stones. That's all there is to it." "Even though my surname is Wang, I don't belong to the clan's inner circle. There's zero chance of promotion for me." "You've followed me for three years now. Whatever outpost I'm assigned to, I bring you along. You ought to think about your own future too. Have you ever considered where our prospects lie down the road?" "Reporting this would indeed count as a service." "But what could that merit actually bring us?" "Besides—" "Since Chen Fan only awakened as an architect after coming to the wasteland, do you really believe he simply stumbled upon good fortune out here? Any fool could see he was targeted at every turn back in his clan. Only out here could he finally cut loose and act. He planned this long ago." "What does that tell you?" "It means Chen Fan has intended to strike out on his own from the start." "If you report it right now, while he's still weak, he might bend under pressure and agree to join the Wang family. But guess what? Do you think he won't resent the two of us? Do you think he won't ask the Wang family to dispose of us? And do you think the Wang family would hesitate to sacrifice us?" "You need to think through the stakes here." "On the other hand, once Chen Fan really builds his own faction, he'll owe us a personal favor. Couldn't we take the chance to join him? Even if it's a fledgling faction, being a core member of an upstart force beats being a worker bee in the Wang family, doesn't it?" Admiration surfaced on the man's face as he thumped his chest. "You really do think things through, Stationmaster. Don't worry, Stationmaster, I'll do whatever you say. I definitely won't act on my own." "Good." Wang Kui chuckled and patted the man on the back. "Come on, let's head back to the outpost. It's best that you see it this way. Over the years, I've been turning one thought over in my mind: every faction needs worker bees, but... a worker bee who's slaved away for thirteen years deserves a promotion." "They can't just use a man until he dies." "Don't you think?" ... "Young Master." Quehou peered into the two ceramic vats on the cart Wang Kui had newly brought over before speaking. "They brought another vat of water and some rations." "Very good," Chen Fan murmured, his eyes narrowing slightly, though there wasn't much joy on his face. While he hadn't wanted to reveal his architect identity so early, those two Level 2 arrow towers were hard to hide; sooner or later, the secret would be out. If Stationmaster Wang chose to report it upward, Chen Fan would face immense pressure. He had to upgrade his camp's defenses as soon as possible. That way, even if outside pressure came, he could hold his ground. Better yet, he needed to devise an escape route so that if they truly couldn't withstand an attack, they could relocate elsewhere and stage a comeback. For now, this Stationmaster Wang seemed like a smart man. Hopefully the fellow could see the long-term benefits and wouldn't be blinded by short-term gain. He glanced toward the patch of farmland freshly tilled and planted at the edge of the camp. The crops currently planted there wouldn't mature for three days; there was no rushing it. And in his hand, he had only eight ghost stones left. Hardly enough. Most critically, he had no means of obtaining ghost stones in the short term. Last night, the bear traps hadn't caught a single ghost creature. He didn't know what had happened—by all logic, ghost creatures drifted through the darkness, so it was impossible for the creatures in this area to be entirely wiped out. "Let's test something." After pondering for a moment, Chen Fan waved for Quehou to follow him. Stuffing the remaining ghost stones into his robes, he left the outpost, pulling the cart toward the depths of the wasteland. Truth only came from practice. Guesswork alone was useless. ... They walked for roughly two hours. The wasteland had virtually no hills or gullies, stretching out flat and level. Looking back, he could still faintly see the two arrow towers. "Here will do." Chen Fan pulled the ghost-skin map from his robes and checked his position. This wasteland wasn't particularly large, and where he stood was already close to its outer fringe. There wasn't a single outpost nearby. To the east of the wasteland lay Jiangbei Market. To the west lay Pingcheng. To the south was a desert, and to the north lay the sea. From where he stood now, walking north for another four to six hours would bring him in sight of the sea. Generally speaking, travelers crossing the wasteland mostly journeyed between Jiangbei Market and Pingcheng. The south was an uninhabited wasteland, and since people crossing the wasteland naturally took the shortest straight path between two points, the outposts in the middle of the wasteland were packed with travelers every day. In contrast, his original Chen Family Outpost No. 37 was located toward the northern edge, far from the central route, so hardly anyone passed by. Over all these days, the only traveler he had seen was that blue-robed middle-aged man. And having now walked north for another two hours, this place was even more deserted. There certainly wouldn't be any outposts here. It was virtually an uninhabited zone. "Phew..." Chen Fan exhaled softly and slowly closed his eyes. Taking three ghost stones from his robes, he tossed them into the air. In an instant, the three ghost stones dissolved into milky-white liquid, and the phantom image of a ghost fire slowly materialized in midair. As the milky-white liquid flowed into the phantom image, it gradually condensed, though it didn't solidify completely like the arrow towers had. He reached down, plucked a handful of withered grass from the ground, and tossed it into the projection. Only then did the phantom image fully solidify. It settled upon the ground. A primitive ghost fire rested firmly and steadily on the earth. "Y-Young Master?" Standing to the side, Quehou watched this unfold, his breathing growing rapid, his eyes wide with disbelief. Ghost fires were common structures, so their recipes were widely known. He remembered it requiring many kinds of materials—how had the young master built one just by tossing in a handful of dry grass? And it had only consumed three ghost stones? One had to know that a ghost fire sold for around sixty ghost stones at the market! Just how much profit was in that turnaround?!