Crown Prince of the Empire, I quit!

Chapter 1129: Rebellion, Reclaiming Lost Property

On the other side, the village was in ruins.

The bloody smell of the dyeing factory still lingers in the low-lying areas of the county town.

It was as thick as indigo dye poured into the mud, with the rusty smell of human blood.

The sun had just climbed over the battlements of the city wall, and the pale light pierced the ruins of the dyeing workshop, illuminating the mess on the ground, the coagulated blood scabs, the broken wooden rake teeth, and the dark blue fragments of the indigo vat.

There was also Zhao Laoquan's stiff body, and his rough palm was still tightly gripping a sharp piece of pottery.

The knuckles were white and terrifying. No one dared to cry out loud. The sobs muffled in the throat mixed with the unconscious groans of the injured, which was more piercing than the howling.

Zhang Tiechui's left arm was wrapped again and again with strips of burlap.

Dark red seeped out from the depths. He looked down at his new disciple.

The half-grown boy, with a dent on his temple, would never grin and call his master again.

Several women nearby used burnt cloth strips to plug the bloody hole in the carpenter's leg.

The white flesh rolled up and the blood still gushed out in streams, which made people's teeth ache.

The air was filled with the bitter smell of the golden wound medicine mixed with herbs left by the shadow of Tongbao Pavilion, which could not cover up the strong smell of blood.

"Did you see everything clearly?"

It felt like there was a handful of sand stuck in Zhang Tiechui's throat, and his rough voice crushed through the silence.

"This broken pottery jar is our treasure for boiling indigo! That anvil is our tool for making a living! Where's the spinning wheel? Without it, how can women and children weave cloth to exchange for food?"

He banged his knuckles on the compacted dirt, drawing blood.

"Du Zi! And that hand above him isn't just pricking us with needles! They're going to gouge out our hearts, chop off our hands and feet, and slaughter hundreds of people in our county like animals to make oil!"

He suddenly raised his bloodshot eyes and scanned every numb face stained with blood, sweat, tears and dust.

"Do you want to wait for the next kick to be kicked in your own door? Wait for your wife to be raped? Wait for your child to starve to death before your eyes? Or... let's be brave animals and chew these damn things up and swallow them?!"

The low roar was like a blunt knife, cutting open the abscesses in everyone's hearts.

There began to be some life in the numb eyes, that was the fierce look of someone who was forced into a desperate situation with no way to retreat.

The dried tear marks on Widow Wang's face cracked open again, revealing new wet marks.

She didn't say anything, but just hugged the sleeping little girl in her arms tighter.

His teeth bit his lower lip tightly.

In the corner, Ah Fu, a clerk in the rice shop, was breathing heavily and groping in the inner pocket of his clothes that was scratched by a knife. He took out something. It was the indigo-colored account book from the dyeing workshop that was soaked with Zhao Laoquan's blood.

The bloodstains made the dark blue look a little black.

He was illiterate, but his hands were shaking so badly that he flipped to a mezzanine.

It wasn't paper, but a small piece of tough burlap with a very simple pattern drawn on it with charcoal.

A long curved line looks like a city wall, divided into several grids.

There was a grid with three entwined snakes drawn on it.

"Zhao...Mr. Zhao..."

Ah Fu's voice was so hoarse that he couldn't utter the complete name. He just poked his fingers at the square with three entwined snakes.

He then pointed to the inner layer of the account book's back cover.

It was densely covered with special marks of charcoal drawing.

Like a hook, a spindle, and even a crooked little anvil.

The shadow of Tongbao Pavilion approached silently, and the expression on his face, covered by black cloth, could not be seen.

But those eyes fell on those marks and sketches, and the cold eyes seemed to jump, and no one spoke.

"Official warehouse outside the west gate! Warehouse No. 3, Type A!"

Zhang Tiechui squeezed out words from his throat, as if he was biting bones.

"All the stuff Black Fang's bastards stole—the anvils, the spinning wheels, the parts of the filter—must be piled up there! That's our bread and butter! We can't rely on the kindness of the government, but on our own blood and sweat!"

He suddenly picked up a wooden beam with sharp edges that was half broken during the fight in the dyeing workshop last night.

"The seed that Tongbao Pavilion lent us is a dead piece of iron! But it must be matched with the courage of a living person who can compete with the King of Hell for food! Today, those who dare to risk their lives to follow me, take the weapons at home! We are not thieves! We are going to take our own things!"

There was no earth-shaking roar, only heavy breathing that tore through the night wind like a broken bellows.

The crowd moved and dispersed in the night, quietly disappearing into the depths of the narrow alleys.

The doors of each household creaked slightly, and the men groped silently in the dark.

The door bar behind the door is heavy and can no longer be relied upon to protect against thieves.

But it is a weapon that is about to be swung.

The long-abandoned harrow in the corner was dismantled, and the sharp iron teeth were wrapped in rags and tied to the wrists or the top of a short stick.

A cold light flashed in the shadows.

Several apprentices from the blacksmith shop gritted their teeth and worked in the faint moonlight.

He picked up the broken iron bars and half of the axle from the dyeing workshop, and smashed the bends with stones at the base of the broken wall.

The broken end was smashed into a sharp spear head with thorns, with an uncut edge and a rough and fierce murderous aura.

Widow Wang took out a small cloth bag from the depths of the stove and opened it to reveal some grayish-white powder. She silently distributed it to several women with the fiercest eyes. No one asked what it was, but they understood when their cold eyes met.

This is a vicious thing that can cause eye rot.

The sound of the second watch clapper could not be heard far in the silent city.

The west city gate was closed and the high walls were lifeless.

In the deeper darkness beneath the city wall, dozens of twisted shadows lay in the knee-deep yellow grass, motionless, their breath caught in their throats.

Zhang Tiechui was at the front, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, mixed with the tears that had not been wiped away during the day and dried on his face.

He stared intently at the deepest shadow where the city wall met the slope.

There was a faint depression there that was shorter and overgrown with weeds than other places. The gap in the curved line of the city wall in Zhao Laoquan's account book strangely overlapped with this location in the darkness.

A very subtle rustling sound came from the side and back. The shadowy leader of Tongbao Pavilion seemed to seep out from the ground and whispered in Zhang Tiechui's ear, "Three snake patterns, it means the Type A No. 3 warehouse."

"There are at least twenty powerful crossbows inside. The patrol battalion's shift change will last no longer than an incense stick."

He paused, his cold eyes sweeping over the men crawling on the ground. The crude weapons in their hands flashed with nervous dim light.

“People go in, things come out.”

"If blood is to be shed, it should be on these killers. If we delay until dawn, nothing will be done."

After saying this, the shadow moved and retreated back into the thicker darkness, as if being swallowed by the night.

Zhang Tiechui said nothing, but stretched out his calloused hands and pressed them against the cold earthen wall.

The hole in the corner of the wall was indeed not a dead end. After digging through the rotten grass and leaves and a layer of loose gravel, a strong smell of rust and greasy dust hit me in the face.

The two men behind immediately handed over two large wooden stakes brought from the dyeing workshop.

"push!"