Corpse Recovery Diver
Chapter 231 - 41_2

Chapter 231: Chapter 41_2

"Alright, Grandpa Ding, don’t worry. You go ahead and handle your matters; by the time you return, you’ll be able to enjoy the peach blossoms."

Li Sanjiang nodded, "Rest assured, Marquis Lin, I’ll take care of it."

It wasn’t exactly being coerced by a great-grandson—after all, Li Sanjiang was well aware that once someone makes a request, it would be rude to refuse, especially since he wasn’t willing to return the house and land under his name.

Li Zhiyuan inwardly sighed with relief, not afraid of it making demands; it was the lack of demands that was concerning.

If it’s just planting trees, it’s nothing much, plus the land has been rented, and the money will be left behind.

"That’s good then, thank you, Marquis Sanjiang."

"Look at you, what’s there to thank me for, it’s all part of the deal. In that case... Zhuangzhuang."

"Yes?"

"Run back and call Marquis Runsheng to bring the cart over. Let’s load everything up and take it back."

Tan Wenbin looked somewhat unsure as he glanced at Li Zhiyuan and Li Sanjiang. He didn’t want to leave; although he wasn’t as strong as his father, when facing the water monkeys, wouldn’t having one more person equate to having extra help?

"Brother Binbin, you go home and call Brother Runsheng over to move the stuff."

With nearly twenty water monkeys meeting that fate last night, now one more person would only add to peeling another shrimp.

"Alright, okay."

Binbin left.

"Little Marquis Yuan, I’ve noticed, it’s not just the mules at home that listen to you, Zhuangzhuang listens to you too?"

"Oh, really?" Li Zhiyuan appeared clueless.

"Heh, that’s good." Li Sanjiang patted the boy on the head, "This shows that our Little Marquis Yuan is born to be a leader."

The will had been made, and Grandmaster’s perception of his great-grandson shifted from extreme partiality to justifiably biased.

Ding Dalin said, "This shows that the child has organizational skills and is indeed suitable for officialdom."

Li Sanjiang adjusted his waistband, "Marquis Lin, is there any paper by the earthen jar?"

"There’s some in the basket."

"Then I’ll go use the earthen jar."

Li Zhiyuan wanted to follow, but after just two steps, Ding Dalin called out, "Little Yuan."

Hesitating for a moment, not daring to pretend not to hear and walk away, he still stopped.

"Ah?" Li Zhiyuan faced Ding Dalin, "What’s the matter, Grandpa Ding?"

"Your Grandmaster didn’t choose wrong, you are indeed a warmhearted good child."

Li Zhiyuan lowered his head, revealing a shy smile.

The reason he didn’t showcase his best timid eye contact was because the skin on the center of Ding Dalin’s forehead was splitting.

It looked as if clothing had been torn open; not entirely, but the color was uneven.

The performance seemed to be coming to an end, and he needed to avoid any mishaps.

Ding Dalin touched his forehead, and Secretary Jin came over wanting to help, but he instructed her instead, "Bring a basin of water, I need to wash my face properly."

"Alright."

Secretary Jin brought a basin of hot water, with a towel hanging over the edge. She stood there holding it like a human stand.

Ding Dalin approached the basin, bent over, and kept lightly tapping his face with his fingers.

This scene was very similar to a city woman taking out her makeup box and touching up her makeup in front of a mirror.

Li Zhiyuan wanted to leave the room, but Secretary Jin was standing right in front of the door. So, to avoid seeing what he shouldn’t, Li Zhiyuan turned towards the speaker system and touched the cover.

"Little Yuan, did you just learn the local dialect?"

"Mhm, yes, I’m still not very good at it." Li Zhiyuan picked up the microphone and played with it.

"Where did you live before?"

"In Beijing." Li Zhiyuan spoke into the microphone, "Huff huff... hello hello."

"Jiankang?"

The hand holding the microphone trembled.

Jiankang?

Li Zhiyuan knew that Jiankang was the ancient name for Nanjing, the capital during the Six Dynasties.

Eastern Wu, Eastern Jin, Liu Song, Southern Qi, Southern Liang, Southern Chen...

So, which period was it from?

"Oh, from Beijing, haha, I didn’t react just now, I heard wrong."

Ding Dalin laughed, seemingly covering up his own slip of the tongue.

Li Zhiyuan’s heart was conflicted; even if he was from the Southern Chen period, that was almost 1500 years ago.

Did that also mean that the tomb in the fish pond was nearly as old?

Who knew if the group of water monkeys was lucky or not, having stumbled upon such a prime water burial tomb.

But it seemed the more unfortunate one was himself; he had just started reading books not too long ago, still in the phase of reading, learning, and applying.

In the currently popular martial arts novels and movies, the protagonists after secluded intense training would first come across the target for practice as some bullies harassing village girls.

Yet here he was, having not yet fully learned, just softly pushing open his home door to seek some sunshine, and behold: right across the street was the East Factory.

"Little Yuan, you promised Grandpa to help him plant peach trees well."

"Mhm, I will."

"Louder, Grandpa is hard of hearing."

"Don’t worry, Grandpa."

"Turn around, face Grandpa when you say it."

Li Zhiyuan turned around.

Facing him was a face without any skin, red and swollen!

After a moment of shock and thought, Li Zhiyuan raised his hand, opened his mouth, ready to scream, but the face suddenly pressed close to his:

"Little Yuan, you are a step behind."

Li Zhiyuan’s expression froze, his hand stopping halfway, his mouth open, but he dared not scream.

"Little Yuan, were you just wondering whether you should scream in fear?"

Li Zhiyuan didn’t know how to respond.

"You kid, why do you look like you don’t recognize me anymore?"

A similar phrase--just this morning when he went for a walk with Grandmaster and encountered Ding Dalin, Ding Dalin had said the same thing.

It had indeed seen him and Brother Runsheng on the rooftop last night.

"I will help you in planting the trees."