The Little Demonic Cultivator in the Courtyard: Borrowing 100,000 Japanese Pirates to Heal

Wang Xiaoyong's voice echoed in the courtyard, carrying a tone of arrogance and swagger.

The courtyard was deathly silent. About thirty people stood together, holding their breath.

Liu pressed He Yuzhu's face tightly against her chest. The child struggled in her arms for a moment, but she held him even tighter.

He Daqing was still lying on the ground, the pain in his back hadn't subsided, but he didn't dare to move, so he just lay there.

Wang Xiaoyong glanced around and was quite satisfied with the fear in the crowd.

This is the effect he wanted.

"You all need to remember this: if you see any resistance fighters, you must report them! There's a reward for reporting! Anyone who knows anything but reports it..."

He paused deliberately, his eyes scanning the crowd, revealing a sinister expression.

"Then treat them as resistance fighters. As for their fate..."

He then gestured with his chin toward the three corpses on the ground.

The three corpses still lay on the bluestone slab, their postures twisted, and the blood beneath them had begun to turn black and thicken.

Two greenbottle flies appeared out of nowhere and buzzed around the bloodstains.

One of them landed on Black Tiger's face, which still held a look of terror, and slowly crawled along the corner of his half-open mouth.

Everyone in the courtyard followed Wang Xiaoyong's gaze, then quickly looked away, wishing they were blind and couldn't see anything.

If this had been said before today, some people might not have taken it seriously.

After all, who has ever witnessed murder?

The most frequent disputes among these neighbors were about whose rice Jia Zhangshi stole, and Yi Zhonghai arguing heatedly with his coworkers at the factory over work points.

Murder? That's something in plays, stories told by storytellers, a world away from their lives.

But it's different now.

The three corpses on the ground were still steaming. Black Tiger's pants were still wet, and the stench of urine mixed with the smell of blood mingled in the air, seeping into everyone's nostrils.

No one thinks this is a play anymore.

There were about thirty people in the courtyard, and it was as quiet as a graveyard.

Even He Yuzhu and the other children dared not cry anymore, burying their faces tightly in their parents' arms, their little bodies trembling, only emitting muffled sobs.

Wang Xiaoyong frowned.

He felt that his imposing speech should have a better effect.

But there was nothing there.

Everyone in the courtyard kept their heads down, like a row of eggplants that had been hit by frost, not daring to utter a single word.

This feeling made him very unhappy.

His eyes darted through the crowd before finally settling on Xu Jiande. He hesitated for a moment before walking up to Xu Jiande, stopping, blinking, and asking, "Xu Jiande, did you hear me?"

His voice wasn't loud, but his tone carried a hint of nitpicking, as if he were giving a reminder.

Xu Jiande raised his head and glanced at Wang Xiaoyong.

This glance was so calm that it gave Wang Xiaoyong a slight jolt.

But the next second, Xu Jiande lowered his head and said honestly, "I heard you, sir."

Wang Xiaoyong's smile froze for a moment, then blossomed again, even brighter than before.

He reached out and patted Xu Jiande on the shoulder, the force neither too light nor too heavy, with a hint of condescending satisfaction.

"Okay, okay. That's more like it."

He turned around and walked back to the middle of the courtyard, thinking to himself, "Luckily, Xu Jiande isn't stupid. He knows how to behave at this time. That's good."

Just then, the sergeant standing to the side spoke up, mumbling a few words in Japanese.

After saying that, Chao Wang Xiaoyong raised his chin.

Wang Xiaoyong quickly bowed and turned around, his expression changing completely. The nitpicking look from before was gone, replaced by a smiling face that said, "I'm here to bring you good news."

The speed at which this person changes their expression is faster than turning the pages of a book.

"Fellow residents, the Imperial Army has issued an order..."

He cleared his throat and raised his voice a few decibels so that everyone in the courtyard could hear him clearly.

"The Lou family's steel rolling mill is officially requisitioned by the Imperial Army starting today!"

This statement is like a stone thrown into stagnant water.

The people in the courtyard finally reacted, their breathing becoming more rapid.

"All the workers in your compound who worked in the steel rolling mill,"

Wang Xiaoyong pointed towards the east wing, then towards the west wing, drawing a circle in the air with his finger. "Everyone must report to the factory and serve the Imperial Army!"

He paused, then took out a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

He wiped his sweat, put the handkerchief back in his pocket, and his expression softened slightly.

"The Imperial Army said that as long as you work hard, you will have food to eat and wages to receive."

He smiled, revealing a set of yellow teeth.

"Anyone who doesn't go," the smile was still on his face, but his voice had turned cold, "will be treated as a traitor."

"I don't need to elaborate on the consequences of treason, do I?"

His gaze swept over the three corpses on the ground, intentionally or unintentionally.

There was a moment of silence in the courtyard.

Only one second.

But in that instant, the same thought crossed the minds of many people.

"A steel rolling mill? It's been requisitioned?"

"What do you mean by 'treating them as traitors'? Isn't this blatant kidnapping?"

But no one dared to say it.

Yi Zhonghai stood at the front of the crowd, rubbing his fingers together on the edge of his trouser leg again.

He's only twenty-five years old and has been working at the steel rolling mill for several years. His skills are among the best in the factory, and his coworkers respect him. He himself feels that he can make a living with his skills and has confidence wherever he goes.

But now he doesn't dare to be tough at all.

He had already figured it out: disobeying the Japanese would be very troublesome; the blood of those three people on the ground hadn't even dried yet.

conscience?

dignity?

These things are of no importance compared to being alive.

He was the first to raise his hand and say, "Understood. We will definitely report to the factory and work hard for the Imperial Army."

Once there was a first one, there was a second one.

Liu Haizhong raised his hand, muttering "Go, go, definitely go," his voice even louder than Yi Zhonghai's.

Then came He Daqing. He had just gotten up from the ground, his back was still aching, and he couldn't straighten his back, but he still bent over and nodded, saying repeatedly, "I'll go, I'll go."

Then came the third, the fourth, and the fifth.

One by one, the men in the courtyard expressed their allegiance. Some raised their hands, some nodded, and some mumbled indistinct words of loyalty. The voices were uneven, but no one dared not to express their stance.

Wang Xiaoyong watched this scene with a satisfied smile. He turned his head and bowed to the sergeant.

The sergeant nodded expressionlessly, not even glancing at him, then turned around and walked towards the courtyard gate, his leather shoes clicking on the bluestone slabs.

The Japanese soldiers holstered their guns in unison and followed behind him, their movements as synchronized as a wound-up machine.

Only the three corpses, a group of terrified survivors, and a lackey wiping sweat with a dirty handkerchief remained in the courtyard.

Xu Jiande stood there, the blood marks on his palms still throbbing with pain.

He knew these people hadn't done anything wrong. In the face of bayonets, survival was the most important thing.

But he still felt an indescribable discomfort.

This discomfort was more painful than the wound on his leg, and more painful than the muscles that had been torn apart by demonic energy the night before.

He lowered his head, staring at the bluestone slabs at his feet, suppressing the discomfort in his heart little by little.

It's like pressing a red-hot piece of iron into cold water; with a hiss, a puff of white steam rises, and then it slowly cools down, turning into something harder, colder, and heavier.

"Just wait and see," he said to himself.

At this moment, Wang Xiaoyong said to Yi Zhonghai and the others, "You all need to go to Lou's Steel Rolling Mill right now." Perhaps because the Japanese weren't there, he spoke a little softer. After thinking for a moment, he added, "Take care of yourselves."

Everyone present hated this guy, but Wang Xiaoyong didn't care. He walked over and whispered to him, "Xu Jiande, your rice shop can continue operating as usual."

Everyone was stunned by these words.

Including Xu Jiande.