With virtue

A humming wave of voices surged in, crashing against the fence of the kiln site.

"Let us in!"

"Please, please let us in—!"

"Please, sir, have mercy! Give me something to eat, the child is starving!"

Chen Wanchuan frowned, turned around and glanced at the entrance of the kiln. After confirming, he whispered to Zhao Yunshu, "They've probably heard that the Quyang kiln is wealthy, so they've come here in groups to beg for food."

Zhao Yunshu followed his gaze and saw that outside the fence at the entrance of the kiln, there was a large crowd of no less than a hundred people, including men and women, young and old, all dressed in rags and with pale faces.

The men at the front of the group lay on the fence, desperately reaching their hands inside, oblivious to the blood dripping from the bamboo thorns cutting their wrists.

The crowd behind them jostled and shoved, the suppressed sobs of women and the shrill cries of children mingling together, almost collapsing the fence.

Just then, two burly men with long knives at their waists walked out of the kiln.

Both men were dressed in short brown robes, with leather belts around their waists, and their scabbards swayed and tapped against their sides.

They walked up to the fence, and without saying a word, without even drawing their knives, they gripped the sheathed blades and began smashing them down on the heads of the first few refugees.

The scabbard struck the man's shoulder with a dull thud, followed by a scream.

The refugee hugged his arms and fell backward, but was then pushed back by the people behind him and couldn't move.

Another burly man swung his scabbard and swept it across an old man's calf. The old man groaned and collapsed to the side. The people next to him tried to help him up, but before they could bend down, the scabbard fell down again and hit him on the back, making him lie on the ground, gasping for breath.

In an instant, cries, pleas, and the dull thuds of scabbards hitting flesh mingled together, creating utter chaos.

After a chaotic beating, it was clear that just two people could hold off more than a hundred people outside.

But the refugees weren't just taking the beatings; some of the men, after being beaten so badly, mustered their last bit of strength and tried to rush over and subdue the two guards.

But the two guards were clearly skilled in martial arts. With a flick of their feet, they sent the man flying more than ten feet away, as if kicking a ball, their faces full of disdain.

However, two fists can't fight four hands. Seeing that more people were about to rush up and pounce on them, the two guards exchanged a glance, gave a push with their thumbs, and a sliver of silver light leaked from their scabbards—

Zhao Yunshu frowned and took half a step forward.

Chen Wanchuan quickly grabbed his sleeve.

In his view, it was really not worth ruining the future and livelihood of the refugees. All three children were counting on learning the craft at Ding kiln, and he also wanted to buy some Ding kiln porcelain cheaply. Even Master Zhao had to rely on Ding kiln to get some travel expenses.

A moment of patience brings peace.

But at this very moment—

"stop!"

It was Sun Shouxin.

The old foreman had somehow moved to the front, standing behind the two burly men. He gave a stern shout. The two men turned around and, seeing it was Foreman Sun, immediately sheathed their swords.

One of them tried to explain, "Boss, these people—"

"I saw it." Sun Shouxin interrupted him, his gaze passing over the two men and landing on the refugees outside, some lying down and some stumbling. He paused for a moment, then sighed, "Go, call a few people to carry out that vat of broken rice porridge from the kitchen."

The two burly men looked at each other, stunned for a moment before they realized what was happening. They quickly responded and ran off.

Before long, several people carried out a large, black iron pot. The pot was full of thin porridge, with only a few vegetable leaves and some coarse millet residue floating on the surface. It was so thin that you could see your reflection in it, but it was still hot, steaming in the afternoon air.

Upon seeing the pot, the wailing of the refugees outside the fence immediately subsided, replaced by a murmur of whispers and the sound of swallowing.

Sun Shouxin walked to the fence, raised his hand towards the outside, and signaled for everyone to be quiet.

His voice wasn't loud, but it firmly and authoritatively dominated the room: "Fellow villagers, there are rules at the kiln. We can't just let outsiders in. Please bear with us. Have this pot of porridge to tide you over for a while. Before dark tonight, I've decided that those who want to stay can stay at the kiln for the night. There's plenty of work for everyone. But let me make this clear: everyone who comes in will be checked and allowed in one by one. The kiln is full of fire-starting equipment, and no one can afford to take responsibility if something happens. If you agree to this, you'll have shelter from the wind and rain tonight; if you don't, take the porridge and do as you please."

The refugees fell silent for a moment, then someone started a chorus of "Thank you, foreman!" and "Foreman, you have done me a great favor!"

Zhao Yunshu stood behind and saw everything.

Sun Shouxin's words provided both porridge and lodging, but he wasn't indiscriminately kind—investigations were still necessary, and rules were strictly enforced. His grasp of the balance was just right, which made Sun Shouxin nod in approval, and he didn't have anything more to say.

When Sun Shouxin turned around and walked back, he passed by Zhao Yunshu and shook his head slightly, as if he didn't think much of the two burly men's rough behavior, but didn't want to say anything more in front of outsiders.

He only said to Zhao Yunshu, "I'm sorry to have troubled you, Daoist. In these chaotic times, getting a meal is harder than anything else. They were forced into this situation." He paused, then added, "Let's go. Let's go sit in the shed and have some tea. Once the porridge is distributed, this matter will be over. If Master Zhou is here, I will personally lead you there."

"Then thank you very much, Chief." Zhao Yunshu said immediately.

"No need to thank me. Since it was Master Yuanmeng who personally introduced us, there's no need for thanks," Sun Shouxin waved his hand and said naturally.

Chen Wanchuan and Zhao Yunshu exchanged a glance.

This Master Yuanmeng has a very high reputation in Ding kiln.

Chen Wanchuan leaned close to Zhao Yunshu's ear and whispered, "Daoist Master, what's the background of this Monk Yuanmeng? Even the foreman at the kiln treats him with such respect. Could he be a guest of honor at the governor's mansion?"

Zhao Yunshu shook his head slightly: "It has nothing to do with us. Perhaps it's some kind of virtuous monk."

The refugees outside the fence gradually settled down, sitting in twos and threes on the open ground outside the kiln, sipping their porridge from their bowls.

Sun Shouxin instructed several craftsmen to guard the gate, and then led Zhao Yunshu and his party to the shed on the east side where guests were received.

Although it's called a "shed," it's quite clean.

Four pine pillars supported a thatched roof, allowing air to pass through on all sides, with only a few bamboo blinds hanging to provide shade. Under the awning was a long, rough wooden table and several benches. On the table were a pot of hot tea and several plates of simple snacks. Although the snacks were not refined, they were plentiful and piled high.

The children's eyes lit up at the sight of the food, but they dared not misbehave because of Chen Wanchuan's earlier instructions. They sat obediently on the bench, their eyes fixed on the plates of snacks.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps came from the slope. A thin, old craftsman was walking towards them.

"It really is you, kid!" Zhou Cheng'an's voice was a little hoarse, but he still called out from afar, "Where's your master? Why didn't he come with you?"