Chapter 463 - 18: Saturday’s Arrangement (2)
"If luck isn't on your side, you might already be dead."
Sunday turned around and waved his hand again.
"Go back, it's getting late."
...
Without waiting to see Kulu's reaction, Sunday walked towards his small hut, his face away from the natives, already covered with a smile.
In fact, he never reported compensating the natives to Chen Zhou, mentioning only the use rights for producing brown sugar.
With so much sugarcane, the brown sugar produced was far more than Chen Zhou could consume alone.
Upon hearing Sunday's inquiry, Chen Zhou thought Sunday wanted to make some chocolate for himself, so he allocated twenty pounds of brown sugar to Sunday for his own use, unaware that Sunday planned to use the sugar to solve internal issues among the natives.
Having obtained a large batch of brown sugar, Sunday spent several days preparing, researching the best way to handle this matter.
He even wrote six different drafts, some with intense language, some more gentle, and some questioning the zebra.
In the end, Sunday selected one draft from the six and memorized it.
...
In fact, Sunday's presence here tonight waiting for Kulu was the result of many days of observation. Despite appearing indifferent to native affairs, he was well aware of the ostracization caused by the zebra's cliques.
It was precisely because he understood the relationships among the natives that he chose Kulu, an outsider.
Carefully tracking Kulu's work hours, remembering his route home, and waiting here.
As well as giving the precious brown sugar to Kulu, Sunday did all this intentionally.
He wanted to see to what extent the zebra could push the boundaries. Tomorrow, he would also check in with Kulu and another familiar native to gather more details.
If the zebra was indeed bold enough to interfere with Kulu's allocation, what awaited him wouldn't just be some harmless scoldings, but Sunday himself.
Sharing living quarters, Sunday couldn't hide anything from Sunday, and Sunday was also fully aware of the native's mutual exclusions.
If it were up to him, the zebra would have been strung up a long time ago.
The only reason that guy was still living comfortably, finishing work early to enjoy life, was due to Sunday's intervention.
But even this intervention had its limits.
If the zebra failed this "test," his treatment would be completely opposite to Kulu's.
Kulu would go from hell to heaven, while he would go from heaven to hell—he might end up not just receiving a lashing, but potentially losing his life.
Having accepted gifts from the zebra and eaten the canned yellow peaches he sent, Sunday felt he had taken care of the zebra often enough, and had also shown him plenty of leniency in this matter.
While walking towards the wooden hut, imagining the zebra's potential extreme actions and his grim fate, Sunday could only silently hope that the zebra would act as smart and sensible as he usually did; he didn't want to lose this friend forever.
...
When Kulu pushed open the wooden door with his shoulder, he saw three companions scattered around an oil lamp.
Those who finished work early could eat warmer meals, but as a collective, even if Kulu usually stayed silent, everyone still left him a portion during mealtime.
Recently, Kulu had been working the latest, and the native in charge of cooking would specially set aside more meat and dishes for him.
The zebra was naturally the "leader" among the seven natives, and none of the natives dared to oppose his arrangements.
Firstly, the zebra held the highest status among them, and secondly, since the hard work didn't fall on them, those doing the work didn't protest, and those with easier jobs naturally didn't stand up for them.
Watching Kulu being bullied, no one imagined such a thing might happen to themselves one day, so they remained silent, at most trying to comfort him by leaving extra food.
...
Talking to Kulu usually yielded no response, and over time, no one bothered speaking to him.
As he entered the wooden hut, everyone was busy enjoying their post-work leisure time.
Someone lay on the bed, slowly breaking off pieces of chocolate and placing the tiny fragments, no larger than a pinky fingernail, into their mouth, closing their eyes to savor the rich sweetness.
Someone else sat by the oil lamp, holding a charcoal pencil, doodling on a white clay board. —
Don't think he was practicing calligraphy; he was actually learning to draw, following the example of teacher Sunday.
Unfortunately, this person had no talent, producing very abstract drawings—so much so that he likely didn't even know what he intended to draw.
Another person crouched by a water bucket, washing the dishes and utensils, acting as the "cook" today.
Hearing the door, this person looked up to see Kulu, and recognizing the taciturn fellow, was about to resume dishwashing when he noticed the wooden box under Kulu's arm.
...
"What's that?"
Taking out the last clean ceramic bowl, shaking the water off his hands, the dishwashing native asked curiously.
Kulu fumbled his lips, trying to speak the words Sunday had told him, but due to his long silence with fellow companions, he found the words stuck inside, causing him discomfort.
Nonetheless, as this was immensely positive news, Kulu, despite feeling stifled, managed a stiff smile.
"This, this was given to me by the teacher."
Finally managing to speak, Kulu bore the pain, took out the wooden box, and opened the lid to show his companion.
He clearly remembered that two others rotated the sugar stirring with him, one being the person eating chocolate on the bed, so he picked up four pieces of brown sugar from the box and placed them by that one's pillow.
"This is yours."
Kulu's deep brown face flushed with nervousness, even darker than usual. After leaving four pieces of brown sugar, he returned to his bed, took four more pieces from the box, closed the lid, and walked towards the door.
"Don't go, why did the teacher give you this?"
Just reaching the door, Kulu was stopped by the cooking native.
He stood there, seriously trying to recall what Sunday instructed him to say, attempting to repeat it, but in the end could only stammer: "Teacher Sunday said, this is my 'personal property,' and you can't take it."
He then added as he opened the door—"It's a reward for my work."
With those words, Kulu left the wooden hut, leaving behind the three dumbfounded natives who hadn't understood what they had heard.
...
The wooden hut where the zebra and the other two natives stayed housed only three people. When Kulu entered, he saw the zebra and one native playing chess at a small table.
They were playing "Gobang," a game invented by the Leader.
The game's rules were simple: align five pieces in a row, either horizontally, vertically, or diagonally, on the board.
The zebra's chessboard was one he had crafted himself; he was notably attentive during woodworking classes, where others could only manage basic joints "upon graduation," while the zebra was already performing fairly complex carvings.
By now, his carving skills had improved considerably; simple chessboards were no challenge to him, and even the cows and sheep on the mountain, animals raised by the Leader, he could carve with remarkable likeness.
Reportedly, he had given Sunday a pair of wooden bull statues a few days ago, with the bull particularly robust, much to Sunday's liking.
Being close with both Sunday and Sunday, along with the zebra's tall, strong build and sociable nature, he got along well with most natives, which explained why no one spoke up for Kulu and why Kulu dared not protest.
...
Hearing someone enter, the zebra, frowning as he pondered his next move, turned his head and was visibly surprised to see it was Kulu who had walked in.
"Kulu? Why are you here?"
The zebra's gaze scanned Kulu, finally settling on the four small pieces of brown sugar in his hand.
"Where did you get this?"
Rising from the chair, the zebra pointed to the brown sugar.
"Stealing from the Leader is punishable; be careful not to make a mess. I'll take you to the teacher tomorrow morning to confess your mistake."
Saying this, the zebra walked towards Kulu to grab the four pieces of brown sugar.
Unexpectedly, the ever-compliant Kulu subtly avoided his hand, which made the zebra rather angry.
His tall frame blocked the oil lamp's light, casting his entire face into vague darkness, giving his usually honest and kind disposition a rather sinister edge.