Manager Wang’s gaze was like a cold needle, piercing Chen Ping’s heart and making it clench.
He quickly averted his eyes and walked toward the pile of baskets as usual.
Manager Wang neither spoke nor moved. He simply stood there until Chen Ping shouldered his basket and went with the other servants toward the wild grass.
Working that day, Chen Ping clearly sensed a different atmosphere.
The Foreman’s whip passed overhead more often now. When he struck the slower servants nearby, he deliberately flicked its tip toward Chen Ping, nearly hitting him several times.
Manager Wang paced through the wild grass field with his hands clasped behind his back. Those small eyes of his kept falling on Chen Ping from time to time, carrying scrutiny and an indescribable gloom.
Chen Ping’s nerves were stretched taut.
He dared not show his strength. He cut more slowly and kept his baskets well over half full rather than filling them completely. Even so, he still finished his share much faster than the people around him.
He could only try to find corners to shrink into for rest, avoiding Manager Wang’s line of sight.
However, hiding was futile.
In the afternoon, it was time to clean the Pigsty.
Just as Chen Ping was struggling to drag a bucket of manure to the dumping spot, Manager Wang strolled over leisurely and stopped in front of him.
“Chen Ping!”
Manager Wang’s voice wasn’t loud, but the surrounding noise seemed to quiet down under it.
“You seem quite spirited lately. Your strength has grown too.”
Chen Ping set down the manure bucket and lowered his head. “It’s your good discipline, Manager. I wouldn’t dare slack off.”
“Hah!” Manager Wang sneered, his oily face expressionless. “Wouldn’t dare slack off? I think you’re quite diligent. Since you’re so energetic… go clean out the Pigsty by the woods on North Slope.”
Chen Ping’s heart sank with a thud.
North Slope?
The woods were remote, near the Back Mountain. Worse still, wild boars roamed there.
A few months earlier, a servant had been gored to death while cleaning there, his intestines spilled across the ground.
Since then, no one had dared go near that Pigsty. The manure and filth inside had piled up like a mountain, reeking to high heaven. It was also infested with snakes, insects, rats, and pests, becoming a truly treacherous place.
“M-Manager!” Chen Ping’s throat felt dry. “North Slope… I heard it’s not safe there. There are Wild Boars…”
“Scared?”
Manager Wang lifted an eyelid, a flash of cold malice in his small eyes. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
“Aren’t you strong? You can lift a stone roller, but you’re scared of a few animals? What, you won’t obey me now?”
His voice suddenly rose sharply, carrying a piercing shrillness.
The servants stopped working, scarcely daring to breathe as they stole nervous glances in his direction.
Chen Ping knew this was deliberate persecution.
Manager Wang had already set his sights on him. Either he suspected Chen Ping had stolen and eaten something, or he was simply dissatisfied because Chen Ping no longer allowed himself to be pushed around like before and wanted to crush him back down.
“I… wouldn’t dare, sir.”
Chen Ping clenched his teeth, forcing down the anger and fear rising in his throat. He knew that resisting now would only invite harsher whipping, or possibly even being beaten to death on the spot.
“Then go!”
Manager Wang flicked his sleeve, his tone brooking no argument. “Get it cleaned up before dark! If you dare slack off or don’t clean it properly… hmph, you know the consequences.”
Manager Wang sent a Foreman with Chen Ping. He was supposed to supervise, but it felt more like being marched away under guard.
The Scarred Foreman carried a whip in hand, his gaze fierce and vicious. He impatiently urged Chen Ping to take the tools—a chipped, broken shovel and a manure bucket.
The path to North Slope was rugged and difficult; the further they went, the more desolate it became.
When the solitary Pigsty at the edge of the woods came into view, Chen Ping’s heart sank completely.
Even from far away, an indescribable stench assaulted their senses, dizzying and nauseating.
The wooden door of the Pigsty was half-collapsed; inside was pitch black. The manure inside was long past being liquid; it had solidified into thick, hard lumps piled almost halfway up the sty walls.
A dry, blackened crust covered the filth, which had been rotting underneath for who knew how long. Mosquitoes and flies buzzed in dark clouds. Rats could be glimpsed darting through cracks around the edges of the heap.
The Scarred Foreman covered his nose with disgust and took two steps back, pointing at the Pigsty.
“Hurry up! Clean it before dark! I don’t want to stay in this damned place any longer than necessary!”
He found an upwind dirt slope to sit on, laid his whip across his knees, and stared fixedly at Chen Ping.
Looking at that mountain of filth made Chen Ping’s stomach churn violently. He knew there was no way back.
He drew a deep breath and held it. Tightly wrapping a strip of rag around his mouth and nose so only his eyes showed, he took the battered shovel and entered the Pigsty. You are reading on novelping dot com, the official source.
As soon as he stepped down, the hard crust cracked. Underneath, sticky, slippery filth instantly submerged his ankles.
The cold, slimy sensation made his scalp crawl. He raised the shovel and forcefully drove it into the dung heap.
Plop!
The shovel sank into the heap, but pulling it free took a terrible effort. The dung clung so tightly that he could not even shake it off.
He could only dig and pry a little at a time, shoveling sticky, blackened lumps into the battered manure bucket.
Each movement required immense effort. Sweat soon soaked through his thin clothes, clinging tightly to his body.
The rags wrapped around his face couldn’t block that brain-piercing stench, making tears stream from his eyes uncontrollably.
Worse, tremendous heat was trapped deep in the heap. Turning it released a still fouler stink with gas like the fumes from a swamp, making him dizzy. Flies swarmed his face, and startled rats squealed and scurried about, nearly colliding with his legs.
Time passed bit by bit.
Chen Ping mechanically repeated his actions: digging, filling the bucket. The bucket was small and couldn’t hold much. Once full, he had to drag the heavy bucket, trudging step by step through the slippery filth out of the Pigsty to dump waste in the designated pit a distance away, then return to continue digging.
The Scarred Foreman watched coldly from the slope, occasionally bellowing, “What are you dawdling for? Hurry up!”
The sun gradually dipped westward.
His arms felt weighted with lead. Each stroke of the shovel pulled at aching muscles.
The sweat on his back soaked his clothes, then dried in the wind, leaving white salt stains. The rags over his mouth were wet, then dried, then wet again. The dried sweat stains mixed with an indescribable smell made him want to retch.
He did not know how long he had dug or how many buckets he had carried out. He had removed only a thin layer of filth; the sty was still far from clean.
The clouds at the edge of the sky began to turn orange-red.
Just then, strange grunting sounds accompanied by heavy footsteps came from the nearby woods.
Every hair on Chen Ping’s body stood on end. He stopped abruptly and listened.
The sounds drew closer, carrying a kind of irritable panting.
Wild Boar!
The Scarred Foreman had heard it too. He sprang to his feet on the slope, panic flickering across his face before he turned fierce. Grabbing his whip, he shouted at Chen Ping.
“What are you looking at?! Get to work! If something comes, hit it!”
Chen Ping’s heart pounded like a drum. He gripped the broken shovel handle, slippery with sweat, barely holding on. He stared fixedly at the shaking bushes at the woods’ edge.