It had been seven days since Jinhai Ren and Ma Cheng settled into the so-called "resting village."
Surprisingly, life hadn't been completely miserable.
Thank to Ma Cheng's mysterious sense of preparedness (or paranoia), they had enough food to last a month.
"Looks like we're safe for now," Ma Cheng declared, patting the sacks of millet like they were treasure.
Jinhai leaned back on his one-legged, broken wooden chair, sighing. "This might actually be manageable…"
BAM!
Two faces with four terrifying eyes popped up against the hut window.
"PLEASE HELP OUR BROTHER!"
Jinhai Ren nearly toppled backward. He clutched his chest, wheezing. "I'm too young for a heart attack…"
Once his vision cleared, he squinted at the intruders. Wait a minute—those faces looked familiar.
They were the same men who had carried his half-dead body into the village center a week ago.
"You!" Jinhai pointed, still panting. "The…Grandpas?"
One of them stepped forward and clasped his hands politely. "I'm Ah Dao. This is Luo Daohu, and this—"
"Ah Guo, Lou Gousheng," the second one interrupted, nodding solemnly.
"Please help our little brother Ah San," Ah Dao continued. "He hasn't had water in two days. This morning, he fainted."
Without waiting for a response, Jinhai marched back inside, grabbed three bamboo cups, and called out,
"Let's go. No one dies of thirst on my watch."
They arrived at a sagging hut that smelled of despair. Inside, Ah San lay on a mat, face pale and lips dry like cracked mud. Jinhai lets him sip a little bit of water.
Ah San Sip it slowly, but his eyes stayed glassy. Something wasn't right.
Suddenly, Jinhai snapped his fingers. "Wait! I remember—back when I used to almost go to the gym, one of the muscle-heads said if you're dehydrated, you need…salt?"
Ma Cheng blinked. "Of course we do. Who doesn't carry salt?"
Jinhai blinked back. "Normal people, Ma Cheng. Normal people."
One cup and a pinch of salt brew later, Ah San looked slightly more alive. Two hours later, he sat up and croaked, "Still…thirsty…"
Just then, Lao Chen arrived at the door with a full bucket of water balanced on his shoulder.
"Lingling brought extra today," he said. "She said dew is good, but firewood and food still require a valley trip.
Water's close, though."
"Lingling is…" Jinhai paused, unsure how to finish that sentence.
"Strong," Ma Cheng offered.
"…yes."
Grandpa Chen told them to use some of their clean clothes, soak them with water, and put them around his head, neck, and body. It helps him recover faster, I learn this from the time I worked in a war zone….
Ma Cheng cooks some porridge and puts a little bit of sugar he needs that as well.
After Ah San become better, the three brothers sat around Jinhai like disciples around a monk.
"You've saved our lives twice," Ah Dao began, his tone oddly dramatic. "First was during the Spirit Rat Feast."
Jinhai blinked. "That was an accident."
"But a beautiful one," Ah Gou said with misty eyes.
"That day, we thought we'd die," Ah Dao continued. "No food, no strength. Then we saw you—an ox cart dumped you like trash. It remind us of ourselves."
"We decided," Ah Gou added, "if we're going to die, we'll at least drag one more soul to the village center."
"And who knew," Ah Dao said, "you would attract the spirit rats and feed us for a week!"
They all bowed deeply.
"There's a saying," Ah Gou said. "Save a man once, it may be a coincidence. Save him twice…he owes you his life."
Jinhai scratched his head, uneasy. "You guys… I mean, grandpa, how old are you?"
"Thirty," they said in unison.
SPLASH!
Jinhai spat water across the room. "You're not the same age as Grandpa Lao Chen!?"
"No food, no water," Ma Cheng muttered, "really messes with people's face."
Jinhai stood, eyes narrowed, then suddenly gave a small bow.
"From today on, you three are my older brothers," he said. "And this guy—" He slapped Ma Cheng's back. "He may look like a servant, but he's my big brother. He's 28. I'm 26."
The triplets looked stunned.
"But Benefactor Jinhai! You—"
"No but!" Jinhai snapped. "No more bowing. No more nonsense. From now on, we're brothers. Family."
"Don't call me that either!"
Ma Cheng rolled his eyes but quietly added a portion of their ration into a bowl. "He needs food, too. Let's not have the salt water go to waste."
Later that evening, Jinhai approached Grandpa Lao Chen, who was boiling something like goo in a pot.
"Old man," he said, "is there a better way to get water? We can't keep watching people faint like this."
Lao Chen didn't look up. "There is."
"Then why hasn't anyone done it?"
Lao Chen stirred his stew. "Because it takes the whole village to do it. And the whole village… has no will. Most of them are exiles. Abandoned. Forgotten. Too broken to move."
He finally looked up. "But you… You've made them laugh. Sing. Hope. They won't say it, but they believe you're their lucky star.
Jinhai frowned. "Me? I don't even have pants without holes."
Lao Chen chuckled. "Exactly. You're one of them. But you act like someone with hope, it brings them motivation.
Jinhai sighed, rubbing his head. "So what should I do?"
The old man smiled.
"That's for you to figure out, boy."
That night, Jinhai sat alone on his toilet throne. Not using it—just sitting. Reflecting. The moonlight cast a pale glow on the bamboo structure, and the two wooden planks beneath him creaked softly.
In a village where people bathed once a month and washed dishes with sand, this toilet was basically a palace.
He let out a long breath. "Guess this is what leadership smells like."
Then he stood and yelled, "Ma Cheng! Lingling! Where are you guy!"
Ma Cheng came jogging over with a new long bamboo stick that is used for cleaning after using the toilet. "Do you need a new stick, Little Master?"
Lingling strolled in after him, carrying a stick with a bug tied to the end by a string. "I was training the lizard to dance."
"Change of plans," Jinhai said, adjusting his robe like it was ceremonial time. "Gather the villagers.
Everyone. Old, young, weird, smelly—I don't care. Tell them I have a negotiation with them.
Lingling blinked. "Are you okay?"
Fifteen minutes later, the entire village stood in front of the now-famous two-plank toilet. Some leaned on sticks, others scratched themselves idly. The triplet brothers had brought Ah San, who sat on a bucket. A dog wandered in and peed on a corner of the toilet throne.
Jinhai stood tall on the platform, backlit by a flickering torch, one foot propped up dramatically on a bucket.
"Friends. Survivors. Suspicious-smelling individuals," he declared. "I have one question for you."
Everyone waited.
"Did you enjoy… the Spirit Rat Feast?"
The crowd blinked. Then several people nodded slowly.
"Y-yes," someone mumbled.
"Delicious," said a granny. "I had seconds."
"Very crunchy," someone else added. "Uncomfortably so."
Jinhai raised a hand. "Good. Good."
He pointed at the toilet behind him. "And how about this majestic creation, eh? The Toilet of Nobility—Have you enjoyed it?
The crowd looked at one another. A few people clapped.
"It's…nice on the knees," one whispered.
"No splash!" another cried.
Jinhai beamed. "Marvelous. So we all agree, progress is possible—even in a village but on despair.
A murmur of awkward agreement passed through the group.
"Now, Jinhai shouted, eyes shining. "Do you want easy water every day? No fainting from thirst?
A thunder of "YES" erupted, but faded quickly as the villagers looked around, confused.
"Wait…how?"
"Is this another toilet?"
Jinhai raised both hands dramatically, like a cheap magician about to reveal his final trick.
"That," he said, "is what I intend to figure out. But I can't do it alone. I need hands. Legs. Strong backs. Weak backs. Anyone with a heartbeat."
Someone coughed.
"I know you've all been left behind," Jinhai said, voice softer now. "Thrown away. Forgotten. But we're still here, aren't we? Breathing. Eating. Wiping our butts with pride."
A pause.
An old grandma with three missing teeth wiped a tear. "That was beautiful."
Even Grandpa Lao Chen, who had snuck into the crowd sipping his goo stew, nodded with quiet approval.
"So," Jinhai said, taking a step down from the toilet throne. "Tomorrow, we build something new."
Then he tried on the bucket and fell flat on his face.
Everyone gasped. Then…laughter.
Real, warm, belly-shaking laughter.
And in a village that hadn't laughed in a long, long time… that was worth more than any bucket of clean water.
Jinhai stood up slowly, brushing dirt from his elbows and groaning. "Ugh…heroic speeches and gravity don't mix."
He checked his arms, his knees, then, panicked, turned in frantic circles. "Wait--did I land in any…residue?!
Someone check! I feel uneasy.
The villagers winced. Lingling gagged.
Ma Cheng, ever loyal, leaned forward and gave Jinhai a quick scan.
"You're clean…mostly," he said hesitantly.
"Mostly?" Jinhai narrowed his eyes.
Ma Cheng tilted his head. "Well…there's…uh…something on your nose."
Jinhai wiped it. His fingers came away with a dark, mushy smear.
He sniffed.
He froze.
"NOOOOOOO!"
"It's okay!" Someone shouted. "It could be just mud!'
Another villager added, "Very poop—colored mud."
The triplets bowed again. "Even covered in filth, our Benefactor still inspires us…"
Jinhai took a deep breath, stood tall, and shouted, "Alright, forget everything I said earlier—don't follow me blindly!"
He raised a hand. "Let's make a deal instead."
The villager tilted their heads in confusion.
"Ma Cheng!" Jinhai shouted. "Bring me the needle."
Ma Cheng didn't question it. He vanished into the hut and returned with a sewing needle and a bowl of water.
Jinhai pricked his finger without flinching. A droplet of blood welled up. He dipped it into the water, mixing it gently, eyes focused like an alchemist about to forge a divine elixir.
Then, with a brush made out of straw, he painted a strange spiral symbol onto a wooden plank, already rigged with leftover gecko and snake meat.
"A tribute. A test. A trap," Jinhai said dramatically. "Back in the city, there was a guy who said blood activates fate. He muttered, or maybe it was a manga. Either way…"
He jabbed the plank into the dirt near the edge of the trees. "If fate favors us… Then by morning, we'll have caught another round of spirit rats, and we will use them as food backup for this water project. If not…then this whole water thing I just talked about, let's just forget it.
Everyone stood in silence, watching the strange wooden sigil glisten in moonlight.
Jinhai wiped his hands and walked away.
As they returned to their hut, Jinhai grumbled, "Why does the village smell like poop again?
Ma Cheng looked him straight in the eye. "It's on your nose."
Jinhai froze. His eyes widened in horror. "I'VE BEEN TALKING LIKE A TRUE LEADER WITH POOP ON MY FACE?"
Ma Cheng "….."