Chapter 100: 100, The persona is ruined!

"Six yuan, look what I've brought you," Wang Fugui's voice drifted over before he even reached the schoolhouse.

Yan Liuyuan opened his eyes in the quilt, refusing to get up at all costs.

Xiao Yu folded clothes as she said, "Get up, Liuyuan."

"I won't! I want to sleep a bit more!" Yan Liuyuan muttered.

Xiao Yu smiled, "If you wake up fifteen minutes earlier every day, you'll gain over ninety hours a year—time to do what you love most. What do you love most?"

After pondering for a long time, Yan Liuyuan asked in confusion, "I love sleeping the most..."

"Hurry up," Xiao Yu frowned, "Even worse than your brother!"

With that, Xiao Yu yanked open Yan Liuyuan's quilt, and the trapped warmth fled instantly, leaving him no choice but to rise reluctantly.

Winter had arrived, and in this era, the cold was especially biting. In Yan Liuyuan's memory, every winter in the township, people froze to death on the streets or in their own hovels.

Those hovels were built from branches or iron frames, wrapped only in torn cloth, offering no protection against the wind.

In those years, he and Ren Xiaosu shivered in the hovel, and Ren Xiaosu wanted to wrap all their clothes—summer or winter—on Yan Liuyuan, yet it was still freezing.

But whenever he recalled those times, Yan Liuyuan felt a strange joy.

He remembered Ren Xiaosu's words: "Human happiness doesn't come from indulgence, but from suffering. When you endure pain beyond endurance and suddenly taste sweetness, you'll cling to life desperately. That sweetness may mean nothing to others, but to you in that moment, it's the greatest joy."

Sometimes Yan Liuyuan thought, if Ren Xiaosu had been born within the Wall, he might have become the philosopher Mr. Zhang spoke of.

Wang Fugui entered holding two roasted sweet potatoes, calling out, "Xiao Yu, here—each of you take one. Eat them while they're hot."

"Uncle Fugui," Yan Liuyuan took the sweet potato, "Why do you love sweet potatoes so much? You roast them every day."

Wang Fugui beamed, "When I was a child, outside the 107th Wall, there was a famine. My father and I fled here to seek relatives. It wasn't so dangerous back then. Once, we dug up two sweet potatoes in the wild. My father roasted them for me, and I thought roasted sweet potatoes were the best thing in the world."

Since the midnight gunshot, when Wang Fugui burst in wearing his coat to try to buy Wang Chengyang, Yan Liuyuan's address to him had changed.

Wang Fugui noticed the shift and was genuinely pleased.

He truly liked the two brothers, far better than his foolish son Wang Dalong. Over the years, watching Ren Xiaosu slowly struggle to survive with Yan Liuyuan, he genuinely felt they had it hard.

Wang Fugui watched Li Xiaoyu and Yan Liuyuan eat their sweet potatoes, then sighed, surveying the schoolhouse, "Now that Mr. Zhang is gone, our township has no teacher left."

Yan Liuyuan shrugged, "So what? When my brother returns, he'll be the teacher."

Zhang Jinglin had already been sent away by Luo Lan, making it the most sensational day the township's refugees had witnessed.

Several military trucks and jeeps parked outside the schoolhouse. The man from the Wall surnamed Luo treated Zhang Jinglin with deference, like a character from a storybook eunuch.

The refugees hadn't expected their township's Mr. Zhang to have such influence. If they'd known, they wouldn't have hesitated to pay tuition or send their children to school.

What if they gained some connection?

Thinking this, many refugees resolved to send their children to school. Their logic was simple: not for knowledge, but for "connections."

But before they could finish imagining it, Luo Lan sent Zhang Jinglin away that very day.

Living in the schoolhouse, Yan Liuyuan and Xiao Yu were ignored like air. Even after Zhang Jinglin left, Wang Chengyang never troubled them again.

Yet the problem was that though no one came to trouble them, many unfamiliar refugees appeared at the door—fruit sellers, vegetable vendors. Wang Fugui recognized some as factory workers, but now they acted like strangers.

Only then did Wang Fugui realize the Wall's control over the township wasn't as simple as imagined. Long ago, refugees had been bought off and turned into Wall informants.

These people were ordinary refugees by day, but if anyone among them plotted rebellion or even strikes, they'd immediately report to the Wall, revealing who was behind the schemes.

No wonder the previous two strikes were crushed instantly by the Wall's private troops—there had been traitors.

Wang Fugui noted each of them down, vowing never to offend them or speak his mind again.

Those watching from the door weren't just refugees; a few looked fiercer than the private troops. Wang Fugui guessed they might be from the Qingshi Consortium.

Speaking of Ren Xiaosu, Wang Fugui frowned, "A factory worker near Jing Mountain said there's been some commotion there. The volcano in Jing Mountain erupted, and the sky over the mountain is shrouded in black clouds."

Yet Yan Liuyuan remained calm, "My brother will be fine."

Because he had made a wish—to protect Ren Xiaosu's life and ensure his safe return.

He was still alive, meaning Ren Xiaosu was already safe.

Such things, Wang Fugui and Xiao Yu probably wouldn't believe, and Yan Liuyuan wouldn't casually reveal his secrets.

Wang Fugui thought and said, "True, that kid Ren Xiaosu is bound to cause trouble for generations."

But at that moment, Wang Fugui suddenly felt a chill on his spine. Suppressing his doubts, he lowered his voice to Yan Liuyuan and Xiao Yu, "Be careful lately. If you want to leave the township, tell me—I'll help. I think these people aren't after you, but after Ren Xiaosu."

Wang Fugui was shrewd; the more he thought, the more he felt those people at the door were like a net, waiting for someone to fall into it.

Zhang Jinglin was already gone—who else could be the target besides Ren Xiaosu?

"They want to catch Ren Xiaosu? Why?" Xiao Yu almost gasped.

Wang Fugui pondered long and suddenly said, "Don't tell me Ren Xiaosu stirred up trouble with the Wall's men in Jing Mountain again?! Very likely!"

Yet his imagination still fell short—Ren Xiaosu not only troubled the band, but also the Qingshi Consortium...

At this moment, Qing Zhen stood on a hillside, exasperated, "When the hell will this end before we can return to the 112th Wall?!"

Xu Man sighed, "Boss, even you're cursing now..."

Qing Zhen grew melancholic, "My persona has collapsed!"

...

Request for a recommendation ticket