Under One Person, your rebellious life has reached the heavens?

“Yes… I know I was wrong, elder brother…” the laborer said with his head down in shame.

From that day on, the half-crippled Jiang Mo was pushed along the bumpy road north by the two brothers in a small wooden cart.

In particular, the laborer A would occasionally feed Jiang Mo water and food.

And so, a month passed in the sweltering heat of the sun and the chill of the moon. All the workers who had served were tanned dark, and Jiang Mo was no exception. His injuries had healed considerably, and he was able to walk normally again. He was grateful to the two laborers, Jia and Yi, who had taken such good care of him.

Whenever he received food, he would share some with his two brothers, just as he always had.

The older brother always refused, but looking at the young boy, he just smiled kindly and put his arm around his shoulder, which undoubtedly acknowledged his gratitude.

The younger brother, on the other hand, never refused any food offered. Every time he received food, he would swallow it in large gulps, as if afraid that Jiang Mo might change his mind at any moment.

As time went by, he gradually developed a liking for the mute little fool, and often thought to himself:

"This guy we rescued at least has some conscience."

Several months later, the journey ended, and the thousands of workers who had arrived at the border began to build the long wall together with hundreds of thousands of workers from other places.

Years of high-pressure labor made these already weak and hungry workers increasingly slow down their construction efficiency. Instead of rest and more food, they were met with even harsher beatings from the supervisors.

"Pfft!"

"Pfft!"

"Pfft!!"

Especially the middle-aged and elderly, around fifty years old, no longer have the strong physique of their youth, and are often the group that suffers the most whipping. In order to deter other laborers, criminals, soldiers, and supervisors, they never hesitate to whip them. Every day, there are laborers who are whipped to death, and elderly people who die of exhaustion in front of the city wall.

No matter the sun or rain, they must not stop for a moment.

Jiang Mo lived like this for three or four years, excessively overdrawing his physical strength, aging rapidly, and his eyes completely lost their color.

He had seen too many migrant workers who resisted, only to be brutally suppressed, dragged away and beheaded, each death a swift and decisive blow.

He worked in the same "team" with laborers A and B for several years, which made him familiar with their language and able to understand their meaning.

The older brother was nearly forty and the younger brother was thirty-five. Even in their prime, they couldn't withstand the frequent labor.

Finally, in the fifth year of the construction of the long wall, laborer A fell seriously ill, coughing incessantly, his face pale, and his lips turning purple. His life was nearing its end.

That year, winter had not yet arrived; it was just the beginning of autumn.

This simple farmer wrote a letter home early on and sent it to the military supervisors for inspection. The letter was then taken back to the counties and prefectures in various places. The content was nothing more than that winter was approaching, and they could not bear the cold. They hoped that some more clothes would be sent.

The laborer did not explain his physical condition in his letter home. Before he died, all he could do was try to find a way to help his younger brother and the mute man get some clothes to get through the winter.

One night, a stranger from the neighboring village came secretly under the cover of darkness and told the villager a shocking piece of news.

The soil they used to build the fortifications was all substandard; it was just a layer of paste. Some officials embezzled money, causing them to suffer from hunger and cold, and even risk being beheaded.

Once completed, it could collapse at any time, and none of these laborers would be spared; they would all be executed.

The visitor's purpose was clear: he could tell that laborer A was about to die, so he gave him some loose change, making the following request:

"You know your own body is failing, and you probably won't survive this winter."

"Just do us a favor and have pity on us. I'll go and complain to the commander on our behalf. Someone has tipped us off... that the commander will be at the construction site sometime next month to inspect the fortifications. And that's how you'll end up..."

After a brief conversation, the informant secretly left, leaving behind the distraught laborer, A.

He's going to die. It would be easy for him to inform on the truth, but what about his brother and the mute man standing nearby?

These two men were in the same group as him. If he were to expose them, they would surely die, and all their fellow workers in the group would be implicated. Even their families, who lived thousands of miles away, might be affected.

"well........"

The laborer was panting heavily, feeling like he couldn't breathe. His hands were trembling slightly, and bitter tears inexplicably streamed down his face.

If he denounces them, he will surely die, everyone in his village will die, and their families may all be imprisoned.

If he doesn't report it, the wall will collapse in the future, and even more people will die. The current emperor is extremely cruel. He is wasting the country's resources to build the Great Wall to defend against the Xiongnu. If he fails, the consequences will be unimaginable.

A commoner's rage can spill blood, but an emperor's rage can cause millions to die.

But the common man was ultimately just an ordinary person. He didn't have the courage to report it, nor did he dare to. He could only shed tears silently in the quiet night.

A feeling of resentment echoed in his heart.

Are people like them born to suffer?

However, he had no choice. Among the leaked intelligence, their section of the fortifications was the most vulnerable. They could escape the first day of the month, but not the fifteenth; they were doomed either way.

"Brother, how about... how about we run away?" the younger brother, Minfu Yi, asked in a low voice, trembling with fear.

"Mmm...mmm...mmm..."

Just then, the mute Jiang Mo nudged the laborer A, pointed to the strip of cloth covered with writing in his hand, and then pointed to himself, indicating that he could do the task in his place.

After spending several years together, he realized he wasn't stupid and finally understood what had happened back then; he was nothing more than a scapegoat sent by the county magistrate.

Of course, even if he didn't realize it, the laborer A did, and in the second year after they met, he told him directly.

"No, you can't go. You're still young. After you finish your labor, you might have a chance to go back alive."

Laborer A rejected Jiang Mo's proposal and his brother's suggestion to escape. The construction site was heavily guarded, with soldiers patrolling at night. If they stepped out of the camp, they would surely die.

"Waaaaah! Waaaaah!!"

Despite losing his ability to speak, Jiang Mo's expression was resolute. Without saying a word, he snatched the strip of cloth from the laborer's hand.

The weakened latter, caught off guard, could not hold on and was easily taken away.

"I...die...in exchange...for...you..."

"I...will...take it one step at a time..."

Jiang Mo made hand gestures and drew lines on the ground, and the two brothers vaguely understood what he meant.

"But, but, what will we do now that you've exposed us?!"

The younger brother was somewhat terrified; he was selfish by nature and didn't want to die.

"I...go...to...the other...Five..." the mute man mumbled again, trying to convey his meaning.

"No, give it back to me, I'll go."

Laborer A struggled to get up and snatch back the strip of cloth.

"Waaaaah...!!"

Jiang Mo resolutely refused to give it to him, and pointed to the loose change in his arms, indicating that she would give it to him as well.

"Damn it, do you have any conscience? You're taking this little bit of money?" the second laborer complained.

"Shut up... Pfft!!"

Upon hearing this, the laborer was enraged and felt a sharp pain in his chest. He then vomited a mouthful of dark blood.

"Brother! Brother!"

"woo woo woo woo!!"

Jiang Mo and Laborer B quickly helped the weak Laborer A to his feet, both looking tense. Fortunately, the night passed peacefully.

A few days later, Jiang Mo bid farewell to the two brothers. With the small amount of money he had saved over the years, as well as the money given to him by the informant, he secretly found the military supervisor, gestured, and wrote two small seal characters crookedly on the ground.

“Change... to Wu....”

The military supervisor immediately brought over the household registration book, glanced at it, and laughed mockingly:

"Wow, no wonder he's a mute from a wealthy family, he can even write? Impressive."

"Okay, I'll satisfy you."

There was a group of minor officials in the imperial court, and even the sons of officials who were not considered officials, who were forcibly brought to the border to build the Great Wall. Since they had some money in their pockets to bribe officials, they could suffer less and were even spared from being whipped.

Upon learning that Jiang Mo had a county magistrate as his father, and seeing the pile of dusty coins and the rough, respectfully offered hand, the military supervisor waved his hand and readily agreed.

It wasn't that he had a kind heart, but rather that the construction work had been intense recently, and the squad that should have been 'taken care of' was gradually becoming unable to withstand the pressure. If they couldn't complete the task, they would face whipping and beheading.

Hey, this is a great opportunity to make a quick buck!

In a short time, the military supervisor made up his mind to profit from both sides.

"Go back first, and I'll contact you when I get back."

Like shooing away flies, the military supervisor waved for Jiang Mo to leave.

That evening, in another group of laborers, the seemingly kind but actually cruel and cunning supervisor said the following to the group of workers who were in better condition:

"I know you can't hold out, so here's a mute bastard. All you need to do is spend a little money..."

“I will send him over to help you with your labor.”

"how?"

The group looked at each other, then quickly agreed.

"it is good."

And so, the two parties reached a deal.

The following evening, Jiang Mo was led by the military supervisor to work in the new 'unit'.

"From now on, you'll be working with them. It will be easier than before. Work hard and don't slack off."

After issuing a warning, the military supervisor left.

Jiang Mo settled down here and continued to work as before. In fact, in order to please the people here, he was willing to do even more work.

After spending about ten days together, these people couldn't help but exclaim: "What a good mule! It never gets tired, it works hard without complaint, and it's good that it's mute, it doesn't complain even when it's suffering."

Faced with their ridicule, the man simply scratched his head sheepishly, looking rather dull.

However, this tranquility eventually came to an end.

One day at noon, the commander was inspecting the fortifications. When he approached the section of the wall where Jiang Mo was, Jiang Mo seized the opportunity and suddenly broke free like a rabbit from its cage. He rushed towards the commander, holding a strip of cloth high in his hand, and ran wildly with all his might, dodging many soldiers in pursuit.

"Oh?"

The commander seemed to notice the strip of cloth in the worker's hand, and immediately frowned, ordering, "Grab it!"

Soon, Jiang Mo was tightly bound to the ground, and the strip of cloth covered with small seal script was presented to the commander by the soldiers.

The moment he opened it, the words that came into view caused the commander's expression to change drastically, and a chill ran straight from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

"How dare you! You lowly commoner, where did you get this information?" the commander roared in fury.

"woo woo woo woo....."

Jiang Mo looked up and tried to speak, but could only utter some incomplete syllables.

“A mute? Men, bring him here along with his platoon leader and the military supervisor.”

The commander left with a frosty expression, immediately heading to the address where the informant had been found to inspect the fortification materials.

A moment later, the results came out, and he was terrified; this was a matter that could cost him his head.

When he returned to the place where the criminals were being held, there was a familiar corpse lying on the ground—it was the mute who had betrayed him.

"How did he die?!" the commander demanded angrily.

“He bit his tongue and committed suicide…” the soldier on guard said, bowing his head tremblingly.

"waste!"

The commander's eyes blazed with fury as he roared, "Bring the supervising officer up here! And bring all the bureaucrats responsible for reviewing the documents!"

That night, the laborers, supervisors, and a group of minor officials in the same unit were all severely tortured and interrogated. Most of them confessed the truth, and the accomplices behind the scenes were revealed.

However, Jiang Mo's background caught the commander's attention. The more he looked at him, the more suspicious he became. He then arrested the military supervisor who had escorted this batch of soldiers and interrogated him, eventually uncovering a hidden truth.

Not long after, in a county far inland, an official and his entire clan were exterminated, the reason being that the matter of replacing the laborers years ago had been exposed.

Unfortunately, in the winter of the same year, Laborer A also died; he still couldn't survive that winter.

Whether it was him, the mute Jiang Mo, or the hundreds of thousands of other Great Wall laborers, they all suffered greatly in this life, toiling day and night like animals to build the Great Wall with their blood and sweat.

The honor does not belong to them.

History books will not sing their praises.

The honor belongs to the emperor, it will be attributed to the emperor's achievements, history books will praise him, and they will write that these sacrifices were worthwhile.

After all, defending against the Xiongnu was a perfectly legitimate, justifiable, and irrefutable argument, if his imperial reign could continue.

But it doesn't write about the blood and tears of the ordinary people who built the Great Wall.