My lord, spare his life!

Raindrops pattered on the ground, splashing up clusters of white spray.

A rumbling thunder rolled through the thick clouds, drowning out the sounds of the city guards on patrol. A cold wind whipped at the lanterns carried by the soldiers, the candlelight within stubbornly burning, and every now and then a complaint could be heard: "When will this damned weather ever clear up?"

"What are you complaining about? We're lucky to even be in the city."

After finishing their shift, they went to a nearby tavern together and got a pot of wine to warm themselves up.

After a few sips of alcohol, my body gradually warmed up.

The guard tugged at his smelly clothes and said with disdain, "That's true, but the weather never seems to clear up, and the clothes my wife washes never dry. In the mornings, I have to make do with half-dry clothes before I go out, and then I'm all sweaty again. It's a truly unpleasant experience!"

His colleagues also smelled the stench and covered their mouths and noses: "It stinks! Why didn't you have your wife dry it over the stove fire?"

"She did dry some firewood, but it was baby diapers. There wasn't much dry firewood at home, and with the city gates closed, woodcutters couldn't get in either. If the weather doesn't improve, there won't be any dry firewood left, not even wet firewood." As he spoke, the soldier looked at his colleague with envy. "Your family is better off. You're the head of the household, and you only have three children. Unlike my wife, who has nothing to do all year round but have babies."

My colleague had three children in all those years with her husband, all born while they were still young. His wife had five, the youngest two being only a year apart, both at the age where they needed diapers. If they didn't use diapers, there would be poop and pee everywhere.

A colleague disagreed: "That's not entirely true."

After all, it's someone else's family matter, and colleagues shouldn't interfere too much. I did say something out of turn before, speaking up for the soldier's wife, but the couple was just happy to be together, and the wife started to suspect me, which caused a conflict between her and her husband.

The guard's cheeks were flushed from drinking, and his discontent, like his sour stench, had become distorted: "Why can't I say that?"

After careful consideration, his colleague sided with what the guard wanted to hear: "You have many children, so even if things are tough now, it's only hardship for now. You'll enjoy a comfortable life in the future. Even if things are tough now, you'll raise them all. You'll have five kids who can carry the family name. When the boys get married and the girls move in, you'll have ten filial children to support you in your old age. My family has only three children at most. My parents are in poor health, and we're poor. I don't think all three of my children can find husbands. I'm afraid I'll have to exchange them with my in-laws."

These days, a future strongman is a family's asset.

The guard felt relieved at the thought that even five children who only knew how to eat, drink, and cry could bring back a fortune, and the gloom that had been building up in his heart for days was swept away: "Haha, thank you for your kind words."

Boom!

Another muffled clap of thunder sounded overhead.

My colleague said, "It's getting late, let's go home."

The guard shivered. "It is a bit cold."

She stepped out of the tavern, her wet raincoat billowing in, the cold wind seeping into her collar and making her shiver. Her colleague, wanting to use the warmth from the wine to get home quickly, parted ways with the guards at the tavern entrance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a slightly thin, frail-looking young man in grey clothes walking through the rain. The young man was walking towards the guards, who, without dodging, deliberately bumped into him.

"You little brat, can't you watch where you're going?"

Taking advantage of their drunken state, the guards attacked the gray-clad youth.

The boy was soaked by the heavy rain. His tattered gray clothes clung to his thin but not weak muscles. The collar was loose, and the rain exposed a large expanse of his bare, tanned chest. Strands of his messy black hair clung to his face. He seemed to have nowhere to take shelter from the rain.

The boy, who was being assaulted by the guards who reeked of alcohol, did not apologize or show any sign of cowardice; he simply tried to brush the guards aside.

The guards were jolted and staggered.

"Hey, you little brat, you're really pushing your luck!"

His colleagues couldn't help but speak up to help the boy in gray out of the awkward situation.

"Stop being foolish, hurry home and take care of your wife and children."

The guards grew increasingly angry.