The sudden approach of the person in front of him made Wei...
"Huh?" The topic changed so quickly that Di Yao didn't quite react.
So Zhao Mazi's coincidental visit to thank her today wasn't a coincidence at all?
Di Yao furrowed her brows.
Although Zhao Mazi's words were a bit off-putting, his expression was earnest, and coupled with his disheveled appearance, Di Yao momentarily didn't know how to refuse.
Zhao Mazi was gaunt, with a look of ill fate. He knew it might not be appropriate to say so, but he was truly starving.
"Miss, you don't know. Others can at least get some food from the Offering Pavilion throughout the year, and the luckier ones can even go to Zhuangzhou Post to send dreams. Even if they can't directly ask for food, as long as someone in the mortal world remembers them, they won't go hungry the next year." Zhao Mazi spoke slowly, his voice hoarse and trembling.
"But it's different for me. I have no relatives. For so many years, I've been starving all the time, even during festivals... sigh."
Seeing that Di Yao's expression had softened a bit, Zhao Mazi saw hope and excitedly grabbed her hand. "Miss, could you lend me some grain? I'm so hungry. Or I can trade this dagger for it. This dagger is the only valuable thing I have at home. I really have nothing else to offer..."
Zhao Mazi's skin was very rough, his palms covered in thick, hard calluses. There was no flesh on his hands, just skin wrapped around bones. His joints were abnormally large while other parts were thin, making them look terrifying.
Moreover, his grip was strong. The thick calluses scraped against Di Yao's fair, delicate skin, leaving many red marks.
The harder Di Yao tried to pull away, the tighter Zhao Mazi held on. "Miss, I'm begging you, okay?"
Just then, Wei Xunzhou stepped in. He effortlessly pried Zhao Mazi's hand open, just as he had done with the ghost messenger that morning—decisive, clean, and without mercy.
"Don't touch her." Wei Xunzhou warned Zhao Mazi, his tone stern.
Compared to Zhao Mazi's hand, Wei Xunzhou's grip on Di Yao's wrist felt much more comfortable. His fingers were long and evenly proportioned, a pleasing sight.
Zhao Mazi looked timidly at Wei Xunzhou, somewhat frightened.
"Miss..." Zhao Mazi turned to Di Yao in distress.
Di Yao sighed and shook her head. "Brother, I really..."
With a thud, Zhao Mazi knelt down. His mouth, surrounded by stubble, trembled as if he were about to cry. "Miss..."
"Oh! You don't have to do that!" Di Yao stepped forward to help him up, but when she couldn't, she instinctively nudged Wei Xunzhou's arm with her elbow, asking him to handle it.
Wei Xunzhou stepped forward, looking down at Zhao Mazi with undisguised displeasure.
By now, Zhao Mazi no longer cared about face. He stubbornly refused to leave, like a scoundrel.
In life, he had been a scholar, but he never achieved fame or success. He lived in poverty his whole life, and even his mother, the only one who cared about him, died of illness. In despair, he tied a rope and hanged himself in his own home.
But unexpectedly, since his lifespan hadn't ended, he couldn't escape. Even more surprising was that even in the Underworld, he still had nothing...
The world was unfair!
Seeing Zhao Mazi, as he spoke emotionally, burst into tears, his head drooping, his thin shoulders heaving, Di Yao's heart softened.
She tugged at Wei Xunzhou's sleeve and whispered in his ear, "Husband, how about we lend him some grain?"
Wei Xunzhou looked at Di Yao, knowing she had already made up her mind, and that his opinion didn't matter. So he went along with her. "Okay."
Di Yao sent Zhao Mazi off with a bag of grain. But remembering the beaming smile on his face as he left, she felt even worse.
"I hope he didn't make all that up to fool us." Di Yao took a cloth and carefully wiped the dagger Zhao Mazi had left behind, sighing helplessly.
Wei Xunzhou brought in a pot of hot water and poured a cup for Di Yao.
Just as Di Yao was about to talk to him, there was another knock at the door.
Zhao Mazi had been too ostentatious when he left. The neighbors, who were already keeping a close eye on Di Yao's household, saw him carrying a full bag of grain, humming a tune as he headed back to his shabby coffin-like house. That gave others hope.
No matter how much Di Yao liked making friends, she couldn't handle so many "brothers, sisters, uncles, and aunts" suddenly showing up at her home.
Every few words she said, one or two neighbors would run into the yard. Like dumplings being dropped into a pot, they came one after another, and soon half the yard was filled.
Listening to the neighbors chattering away, Di Yao helplessly pressed her forehead. The situation seemed to be getting out of control.
Once everyone had more or less gathered, an old woman started the conversation, asking Di Yao if she had indeed lent a bag of grain to Zhao Mazi. Seeing Di Yao's silence, the crowd voiced their desire for Di Yao to lend them grain too.
Di Yao stood on the steps and silently counted the heads in the yard—one, two... at least twenty or thirty people!
The yield from her tiny field could never feed so many mouths.
Moreover, she and Wei Xunzhou had picked the seeds one by one on Golden Rooster Mountain and grown the wheat themselves. Why should these people just ask for it, and so self-righteously at that? Just because they outnumbered her?
Seeing some people already holding large jars and basins, Di Yao began to regret.
Unable to bear the noise in the yard, Wei Xunzhou picked up a long pole that was usually used to sweep cobwebs off the roof and walked toward the crowd.
Seeing Wei Xunzhou's hostile expression, the crowd shrank back a few steps, but soon realized there were many of them and the young couple wouldn't dare to do anything to them.
Most of the people living in Wrongful Death City had suffered in life and carried an innate bias and hostility toward everything.
After death, they had nothing to look forward to either, just waiting for the day when a ghost messenger would take them to reincarnate. And when these unreasonable people gathered together, they would take three parts even when they had no right, acting more entitled than Di Yao, the actual owner.
In their eyes, if they wanted something, anyone in the world owed it to them.
Di Yao stepped down from the stairs and stopped Wei Xunzhou's pole, then raised her voice to quiet everyone down.
"Everyone, I understand why you've come. But I don't have that much grain—nowhere near enough to share with all of you." Seeing a middle-aged man about to retort, Di Yao continued before he could speak. "Secondly, this grain belongs to my family. There's no reason we have to give it to you, don't you agree?"
"You little girl..." A man with a bandit background pointed at Di Yao, about to scold her, but was stopped by an older woman beside him.
It was better not to openly break relations.