Chapter 396 - 171: Execution
Sunday was quite pleased with his performance. He stood upright, still holding his Long Saber, proudly meeting the gaze of Chen Zhou.
In contrast, Saturday’s mood appeared particularly low.
He hung his head, his hands pressed tightly against his pant legs, feeling ashamed of his cowardice, not even daring to lift his head to look into Chen Zhou’s eyes.
...
"Well done!"
Chen Zhou walked past Saturday, directly to Sunday’s side, patted him on the shoulder, and encouraged him.
Sunday said nothing, inserted the Long Saber into the sand, kneeled on one knee, and pounded his right fist against his left chest, showing his submission and loyalty to Chen Zhou.
Seeing this, Saturday hurriedly knelt down with Sunday—his reactions were often a bit slow.
...
"It’s okay, I believe you can do better next time."
Facing a self-blaming Saturday, Chen Zhou did not scold him.
Having been together for so long, he knew very well how loyal Saturday was to him.
But a person’s actions are often influenced by their personality, and sometimes, no matter how hard you try, it’s challenging to perform as well as others.
Saturday’s performance today was not satisfactory, but he wasn’t the type to withstand harsh criticism. If you want him to become better, it’s best to adopt a gentler approach to education.
Confucius had three thousand disciples and still taught according to their individual talents.
Chen Zhou considered himself far less than Confucius, but he only needed to educate two people.
For these two "students," he could manage to grasp their personalities, handle the intensity, and flexibly design educational methods.
...
Knowing well that he was clueless about Spanish, and even understanding 17th-century English was uncertain, Chen Zhou didn’t first question the brown-haired man.
Intrigued, he picked up the Long Saber discarded by the brown-haired man, motioned for Saturday and Sunday to stand up, then handed the Long Saber to Sunday.
"This is your reward."
Saying this, Chen Zhou, like a true elder, ruffled Sunday’s slightly curly hair.
Then he waved his hand, signaling Saturday to come over.
"I have another task for you, make sure not to mess it up this time."
Gently stroking the back of Saturday’s head, he pointed in the direction of the wooden hut and continued.
"Go pack up my fishing rod and tackle box and use the cart to bring the two bodies from the forest, go now!"
"Yes!"
Chen Zhou’s encouragement made Saturday feel more guilty than scolding. He accepted the new task with his head down and started running towards the camp at the foot of the mountain, disappearing from everyone’s sight in no time.
...
Giving Sunday a trusting glance, Chen Zhou slowly walked over to the brown-haired man’s side.
His stature, much taller than his contemporaries, naturally brought an invisible sense of oppression, and the black, uniquely shaped long gun in his hand, symbolizing absolute martial prowess, added to his intimidation.
Werner, who used to lord over the natives, dared not look directly at this "ghost."
He hung his head, feeling the heavy footsteps of Chen Zhou, trying hard to control his limp body, hoping to appear dignified and respectable.
Chen Zhou, intrigued, pinched Werner’s chin, examining his features and expression.
Werner, too, was forced to see the "ghost’s" face clearly for the first time.
This person looked entirely different from the few appearances he had imagined before being captured.
His skin was slightly yellow and a bit rough, like someone who lived by the sea for years.
But his complexion was much lighter than that of the natives, not looking like he had been exposed to the sea wind since birth. His hair, though black, was not slightly curled like most natives, standing straight up like steel needles.
His facial features weren’t as pronounced as those of white people; the eye sockets weren’t deep enough and the nose bridge was straight, while the lips were much thinner than those of the natives.
On the "ghost’s" entire face, besides the straight nose bridge, the most captivating were those eyes.
A pair of sharp eyebrows accented those eyes.
The "ghost’s" pupils, different from his eyebrows and hair, were not purely black; an accurate description would be dark brown.
These eyes were large and spirited, exuding a true sense of overlooking.
Werner had drifted at sea for many years, seeing many high-ranking figures, even having the fortune to meet two big aristocrats from the court.
But he had never seen anyone who could reveal such an overlooking feeling when looking at him.
It didn’t quite resemble the disdain of someone with higher social status when facing someone of lower status; rather, it felt like a god observing a mortal.
In Chen Zhou’s eyes, Werner felt utterly unimportant, like a lion wouldn’t care about the life or death of an ant.
He didn’t know how the "ghost" developed this overlooking demeanor.
He only knew that when facing these eyes, he couldn’t muster even the slightest courage to resist.
Not to mention currently as a captive, even if he were released and handed a matchlock gun again, he wouldn’t dare oppose this person.
Moreover, the more he made eye contact with Chen Zhou, the more Werner’s eyes winced—
He utterly could not control himself to gaze directly at this terrifying giant.
Seeing that the forced gaze had brought enough pressure to this "troublemaker," Chen Zhou chuckled softly, patted the brown-haired man’s bearded face, pulled out the Long Saber scabbard from his waist, and tossed it to Sunday.
"Why only take half the reward?"
Jokingly, Chen Zhou stood up.
...
Receiving the scabbard, Sunday played with the new weapon, reluctant to part with it.
Soon, Saturday arrived at the seashore pushing the cart with two bodies.
He quickly cleaned up Chen Zhou’s fishing gear, scattered by the natives throughout the forest, then tirelessly pushed the cart, dragging the bodies onto it.
He completed these tasks in almost one go, and when the cart reached the near-shore forest full of low stumps, the exhausting labor paired with the blazing sun had him gasping for breath and dripping with sweat.
...
"The last task, finish it and you can have some water and rest well."
Chen Zhou took Saturday beside him, pointing to the natives squatting in a line.
"Make them stand up, identify the bodies one by one, including the two on the beach, and separate those with closer ties to the deceased."
...
Saturday wiped the dripping sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and nodded.
Despite not having caught his breath, he no longer wished to mess up these trivial tasks and damage the good impression he had in the eyes of the "Celestial God."
Striving to keep his voice steady, he ordered all the natives to stand up and identify one by one whether the bodies were their relatives or close friends, following Chen Zhou’s instructions.
The natives, unclear of their purpose or the situation, had no choice but to comply with the commands given to them.
Bound with a rope in a string, they inspected the deceased’s appearance in sequence, then reported truthfully to Saturday.
Throughout this process, Chen Zhou quietly observed the expressions of all the natives.
He discreetly noted those who appeared particularly saddened and agitated—
These people were unstable elements, likely to try and escape the island for revenge in the future or secretly plan something endangering him or Saturday and Sunday.
Once the "body identification" ended, Chen Zhou gestured for Sunday to come to his side.
...
With the newly acquired weapon at his waist, Sunday’s spirit and confidence were higher than usual.
Coming excitedly to Chen Zhou’s side, he almost couldn’t wait to perform another prostration ritual to thank Chen Zhou for the reward.
"This one, this one, and this one."
Chen Zhou pointed out three people among the numerous natives, lowering his voice to tell Sunday—
"Separate these three, take them to the woods over there, and kill them all.
Be quick and clean, don’t waste time, when you return, these people will still need you to manage."
"Yes!"
Sunday didn’t ask why—
The god does not make mistakes, he does not understand questioning.
Adjusting the Long Saber at his waist, he walked expressionlessly behind the three marked natives, unraveling their binding rope, then tying them again with a shorter rope.
"Follow me."
Leaving just a brief command, like how Chen Zhou ordered him, Sunday offered no further explanation and led the way directly.