A master of both medicine and martial arts, he picked up a beautiful CEO as his wife.

Ye Feng didn't say anything about this.

The day after Qi Zhao said those words, he went down the mountain. He didn't tell anyone and returned to Dongyang to continue investigating the location of the third well.

Shen Yu asked him once, "Should we break up?"

"Not distinguishable."

Why?

"Who should we give them to?" Ye Feng asked. "Half of the people on the mountain were people I dragged out of bed six months ago."

"Should I tie them up, then turn around and stuff things into them?"

Shen Yu didn't ask any more questions. On the seventh day, Jiang Wenqing called from the mountain.

"Brother Feng."

"What's wrong, Xiaoman? Is something the matter?"

"It's not Xiaoman." Jiang Wenqing's voice trembled slightly. "It's some people in the alchemy room... who want to talk to you about something."

"What is it?"

"They discussed it for two days."

"What are we discussing?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end. "They asked me to ask you a question," Jiang Wenqing said, "Something that one person can't change, how many people can change?"

Ye Feng put his phone away. He stood in front of the window of his office at the Dongyang Health and Wellness Center, looking down at the street.

"Who told you that?"

"I don't know who started it," Jiang Wenqing said. "I've been decocting medicine in the alchemy room these past few days, and I heard people talking in the back room."

"We've been talking about it for two days."

"This morning they brought someone out and had him talk to me."

"What did you say?"

He said, "Let me call you."

"He also said that if you don't answer this call, they will come down the mountain to find you themselves."

The day Ye Feng returned to the mountain was the seventh day of the month. People were standing in the open space in front of the Discipline Hall.

Not more than four hundred—it was more than one hundred. They weren't standing in neat rows; some were using crutches, some were supporting each other, and some were sitting on small stools.

Ye Feng recognized these people. These hundred-plus were all from the original three hundred and seventeen.

To be precise, it was the group of 317 that "only had half of their bodies removed"—the other half remained, which was suppressed by medicine and slowly dissolved. It took more than half a year to dissolve, and less than 30% of it was gone.

Standing at the very front was a man in his fifties. He was dark-skinned, thin, and not very tall, with a scar on his right cheek.

Ye Feng remembered him.

Six months ago, at that outpost in Luoyankou, on the third floor, there was a row of earthenware bowls containing people. This person was carried out from the eleventh bowl. The day he was carried out, the sun was shining brightly. Lying on the stretcher, he opened his eyes, saw the sky, and smiled.

She laughed and then tears started streaming down her face. "Mr. Ye."

"Big brother."

"My name is Ma Changgui," the man said. "Luoyankou, the eleventh bowl."

"I remember."

"It's easy if you remember."

Ma Changgui took a step forward. "We've been discussing this for two days," he said. "You know what we discussed."

"We can't speak, and I'm nominating myself because I'm the oldest."

I'll just say three things.

Ye Feng stood there without moving. "First sentence: We already possess it."

Ma Changgui rolled up his sleeves. On his forearm, from his wrist upwards, there was a patch of color that was darker than the surrounding area.

"For the past six months, I've watched it recede every day. It's receding slowly, a little bit each month. Miss Ji said that at this rate, I'll need another three years."

"Three years is fine, I'm not in a hurry."

"I was lucky to be alive."

"Second sentence: We can handle a little more burden."

Ma Changgui lowered his sleeves. "I asked Miss Ji. She said that people like us already have that thing in us, and adding a little more would be painful, not fatal."

We are not afraid of hardship.

"I soaked in the bowl for three months, and during those three months I thought about dying every day."

"This little bit of hardship now is nothing compared to those three months."

Ye Feng's throat bobbed. "The third sentence."

Ma Changgui raised his head. "My life was saved by that net you caught."

"You caught 317 in that net."

He pointed behind him. "The hundred or so people standing here are all in that net."

"You are to divide forty-three wells today."

"That's enough."

That afternoon, they discussed how to divide the spoils. Ye Feng sat on the steps at the entrance of the Discipline Hall and talked with Ma Changgui and the others for two whole hours.

He didn't say anything nice. He said the worst things.

The things distributed won't disappear on their own; they have to work on them day by day with their own energy and determination. The process of working on them will be tiring, cold, and sleep won't relieve the fatigue.

Some people who could have finished their treatment in three years might now take five. Others might not finish it at all.

"What happens if you don't finish applying it?" someone asked.

"If you can't finish applying it, you'll have to keep carrying it around."

"Memorize it until you die?"

"Memorize it until you die."

None of the hundred-plus people below left. "There's more," Ye Feng said, "I need to make this clear to you: I don't know if my method is correct."

"Someone did this three hundred years ago. That time, it was divided among nineteen people. I don't know what happened to those nineteen people afterward."

"Senior Qi didn't know either. He said he was down there at the time and knew nothing."

Ma Changgui, who was listening nearby, suddenly smiled. "Mr. Ye."

"Um."

"You're no good at business."

"What?"

"What kind of seller would say all the bad things about something?"

The audience laughed. After laughing, Ma Changgui stood up.

"Please don't try to persuade me anymore."

"It's not that we don't understand. We came precisely because we understand."

"If you had hesitated like that when you cast that net, I would have rotted in that bowl long ago."

On the night of the split, Ye Feng established three rules.

He wrote these three points in Shen Yu's notebook, read them aloud after writing them, and made sure everyone present could hear them.

Article 1: Recallable at any time. "If I say I'll take them back, it has to stop that day. Whoever has them, I'll take them back that day."

"No matter how much you've shouldered, no matter how long you've shouldered it."

"This is non-negotiable."

Article Two: Roll call will be conducted every seven days. "One hundred and seven people, I will call them every seven days, and I cannot miss a single one."

"If anyone is missing, the whole mountain will stop and look for them."

"If I can't find the person, I'll take this penny back."

Article 3: Accounts shall be kept by person. Shen Yu opened the book and started from the middle page.

The header page reads "Shared Responsibility Account." Below are columns for: Name, Responsibility Amount, Date of Responsibility, and Scope of Responsibility.

"I'll remember every single point," Ye Feng said.

"I will pay it back, penny by penny, in the future."

"When I die, this account will be handed over to the next person."

The inkpad used for pressing handprints was from the alchemy room, brought by Jiang Wenqing; the lid was covered in a layer of dust. One hundred and seven people lined up to press their fingerprints. After pressing their fingerprints, they stood to the side, forming a neat row; no one moved.

Ma Changgui pressed the first button. After pressing it, he glanced at the three rules and asked:

"Mr. Ye."

"Um."

"Your second rule is that roll call will be conducted every seven days."

"What's wrong?"

Are you afraid we'll run away?

Ye Feng shook his head. "I'm afraid you'll get lost."