I started on a deserted island and encountered Ying Zheng, who insisted I was an immortal.

Ying Zheng's facial muscles twitched slightly.

Meng Yi and Wang Ben's hearts skipped a beat.

"Alright, let's put our fingerprints on it," Zhang Ying urged.

Ying Zheng did as instructed and placed his thumb on his name.

"Keep going, keep going, let's play a few more rounds before dark." Zhang Ying put away the IOU and began shuffling the cards with great interest.

The following mahjong games turned into torture for Zhang Ying.

"Bang!" Wang Ben slammed two "three of bamboo" tiles on the table and asked in a gruff voice, "Sir, can these potatoes really yield five thousand catties per mu?!"

"Damn!" Meng Yi picked up a blank tile and carefully placed it in front of him. "The 'science' you speak of, sir, does it encompass the methods of papermaking, breeding, and brewing?"

Just as Zhang Ying was about to draw a card, Ying Zheng played an "East Wind" card.

"Why is this script different from the seal script of my Great Qin Dynasty? It looks simple and clear."

A vein bulged on Zhang Ying's forehead.

"Are you here to play cards or to participate in the '100,000 Whys' contest?"

"Even playing mahjong can't shut you up."

He grabbed a card and played it without even looking at it.

"I won." Ying Zheng pushed over the tiles in front of him.

All of them are the same color.

Zhang Ying: "..."

He snatched the IOU and added another sum after "three hundred coins".

"Old Ying, three hundred."

"Old Wang, three hundred."

"Old Meng, three hundred."

Game after game.

Although Zhang Ying was technically superior, he couldn't withstand the barrage of questions from the three people, which disrupted his train of thought.

Ying Zheng's learning ability was terrifyingly strong. After a few rounds, he was able to calculate what cards Zhang Ying might have in his hand.

As the sun sets, the sea surface is sprinkled with golden shimmering light.

Zhang Ying pushed the mahjong tiles away and stretched.

"I'm not playing anymore, I'm not playing anymore, my head hurts."

He picked up the IOU that was already covered in drawings, scribbled on the bottom with a graphite stick, and muttered something under his breath.

"Let me do the math... Old Ying, you had a good day, you lost the least, you owe me thirteen thousand coins."

"Old Wang, you brute, you play cards like you're fighting a war, you owe me 28,000."

"Old Meng, you're the worst! Always so hesitant and indecisive, you've ended up owing 31,000."

When Meng Yi heard the number, his hand trembled so much that he almost overturned the table.

Thirty-one thousand coins?

Even as a high-ranking official, his annual salary amounted to only sixty or seventy thousand coins.

Did he lose half a year's salary in just one afternoon?

"Sir, this...this bet is a bit too big." Meng Yi's voice was somewhat weak.

Zhang Ying blew on the IOU and casually tossed it onto the table.

"Just kidding, look how scared you are."

"Just kidding, do you think I'd actually ask you for money? Do any of you actors even have a single copper coin on you?"

He stood up, stretched his limbs, and walked towards the earthenware pot in the wooden house that was emitting the aroma of meat.

Dinner was as plentiful as ever.

Large chunks of roasted wild boar, stewed potatoes until tender, and a big pot of fragrant rice.

Wang Ben ate with gusto, his mouth greasy with oil. He felt he had never eaten such delicious food in his life.

"belch--"

Wang Ben let out a burp, patted his stomach, and was completely satisfied.

After gnawing on the last bone, Zhang Ying put the wooden bowl on the table and gestured with her chin toward Wang Ben.

"Finished eating? Go wash the dishes."

Wang Ben froze.

He was the dignified Marquis Tongwu, the Marquis Che of the Great Qin, and the military commander who was second only to the emperor.

do the washing up?

"What did you say?" Wang Ben thought he had misheard.

"I told you to go wash the dishes," Zhang Ying said, pointing to the beach. "There's sand there; just scrub them a bit and they'll be clean."

Wang Ben stood up abruptly, his anger even more intense than when he saw the sword soaking in oil that afternoon.

"Insolence!" he roared. "I am the Marquis of Great Qin, how dare I do such a kitchen job!"

"A wise man keeps away from the kitchen, don't you understand?"

Zhang Ying picked at her ear, looking completely indifferent.

"Oh, Marquis Che, what a high-ranking official!"

"Then starting tomorrow, you won't eat anything. Anyway, a gentleman doesn't need to eat mortal food, so you can go starve."

"You!" Wang Ben was so angry that his face turned purple.

He wanted to draw his sword, but it was soaking in oil inside the house.

He wanted to take action, but then he remembered the other party's elusive "science" that could make potatoes yield 5,000 catties per mu.

Ying Zheng put down the bowl in his hand.

He didn't look at Wang Ben, but calmly said to Zhang Ying, "He will go."

Then, he turned to Wang Ben, his voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable authority.

"go."

A single word, like a mountain, weighed heavily on Wang Ben's back.

Wang Ben's anger was instantly extinguished by that one word.

He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh.

Finally, he managed to squeeze out a single word through gritted teeth: "Yes."

He picked up a stack of wooden bowls and, under the complex gazes of Ying Zheng and Meng Yi, walked step by step toward the sea.

That silhouette was filled with humiliation and resentment.

"That's right." Zhang Ying nodded in satisfaction.

"Let me tell you, here, if you don't work, you won't get any food."

He paused, then added another rule.

"We'll take turns from now on. Today it's Old Wang, tomorrow it's Old Meng, and the day after tomorrow... it'll be you, Old Ying."

His finger pointed directly at Ying Zheng.

The air froze again.

Meng Yi was so frightened that his soul almost flew out of his body. He tried to kneel down with a "thump" but Zhang Ying grabbed him.

"What are you doing now? Do you have springs in your knees?"

"Please calm down, sir!" Meng Yi was almost in tears. "Your Majesty... Old Ying is of noble status. Washing dishes is nothing to trouble him! I'll do it, I'll do it! I'll wash them for him!"

Zhang Ying looked Meng Yi up and down.

"Alright, seeing how loyal you are to your master, you'll take his place."

As long as someone is willing to do the work, that's fine.

Ying Zheng remained silent throughout; he simply stared at Zhang Ying, lost in thought.

Late at night.

Three enormous moons hung in the sky, illuminating the entire island as if it were daytime.

Zhang Ying sat alone on the beach outside the wooden house, staring blankly at the moon in the sky.

After three years here, he still can't get used to having three moons.

He was homesick.

I miss that one and only moon, and I miss the skyscrapers and bustling traffic under the moon.

"The bright moon rises over the sea; we share this moment though we are far apart."

He read it aloud softly, his voice carrying a hint of desolation that he himself was unaware of.

The wind seemed to have calmed down.

Not far away, Meng Yi, who was whispering something with Wang Ben, suddenly shuddered.

He slowly turned his head and looked at Zhang Ying's back.

Ying Zheng also stopped talking.

"The bright moon rises over the sea, and we share this moment though we are far apart..." Meng Yi murmured to himself, repeatedly savoring these ten words.

These ten simple words paint a picture of such vastness and magnificence.

Such spirit and such artistic conception were unheard of to him.

Just as the two were in shock, Zhang Ying's voice rang out again, tinged with a hint of drunkenness and melancholy.

May we all live long and share the beauty of the moon, even though we are thousands of miles apart.

If the previous sentence was magnificent, then this sentence is a gentle blessing that touches the heart.