BDSMST -Chapter 169 Want to Eat? First Work in the Fields to Earn Your Meal Ticket

Time passed in a strange, almost surreal atmosphere. In the blink of an eye, half a month had gone by, and only three days remained until the official start of the martial arts gathering.

Woniu Village had completely changed.

Inside and outside the estate, Jianghu heroes in colorful combat attire mingled harmoniously with villagers in rough homespun clothes.

In the mornings, the shouts of sword practice mingled with the rhythmic clatter of looms from the textile workshops.

In the afternoons, those discussing martial arts techniques and those studying how to protect crops from pests sat under the same large tree, exchanging insights.

By evening, heroes who had finished their day of labor gathered in small groups at the village co-op, exchanging contribution points for iced plum juice and freshly baked snacks, chatting about that day’s “harvest.”

“Master Wang, you did well today—chopped three big carts of firewood. You must have earned quite a lot, huh?”

“Not at all, not at all,” another replied. “Compared to Li the Hero, I’m far behind. I heard he used his ‘Wind-Chasing Thirteen Sword Techniques’ to peel radishes—five hundred jin in just half an hour! That swordsmanship is truly divine!”

“You call that impressive? Yesterday, Sun, the chief of the Iron Palm Sect, to earn more contribution points, gave his son a wooden mechanical toy just like young Master Gu Xuan’s. Using his iron sand palms, he leveled an entire acre of land at the back hill! The scene… tch tch…”

Jianghu was still Jianghu, yet the topics of discussion had shifted. No longer was it about whose martial skill was higher—it was now about who had higher “labor efficiency.”

Behind all this, Jiang Suisui remained leisurely. Every day she either tended her herb garden, taught students at the Agricultural Academy, or occasionally checked on the progress of the Explorer ship at the shipyard. For the “guests” in her estate, she had set only the most basic rules and let them “adapt” themselves.

She understood that trying to suppress this unruly group of heroes with force would only provoke resistance. The best method was to establish a set of rules they couldn’t refuse but had to follow.

And “work for your food” was the oldest and most effective rule of humanity.

When someone plants, harvests, and then eats the fruits of their labor, a genuine respect and recognition for the land—and its order—naturally emerges.

That day, Jiang Suisui was inspecting the newly cultivated chili seedlings in the greenhouse. This crop, imported from overseas and improved by her, could now thrive in the soil of Daxia, with an even richer spiciness. She planned to present this as a special gift to her “long-distance guests” before the martial arts gathering officially began.

Gu Yan walked in from outside. He had just handled a few small conflicts triggered by people “rushing for tasks” and wore a look of mild exasperation.

“Your ‘contribution points’ system is actually more effective than military law,” he said, picking up a bright red chili and examining it. “Now they’re not fighting over territories—they’re fighting over who gets to muck the pigsties first.”

Jiang Suisui laughed at his remark. “That shows they’re beginning to understand the principle that ‘labor is glorious.’ How’s it going—have all the faction leaders arrived?”

“Mostly,” Gu Yan’s expression turned serious. “Representatives from major sects like Shaolin, Wudang, and the Beggars’ Sect are already in the estate. Some usually elusive figures from the darker paths have also quietly slipped in. My men are keeping an eye—they’re behaving… for now. But… there’s been no sign of Chen Jing yet.”

“He won’t stay silent,” Jiang Suisui said, twirling a chili between her fingers. “He spent so much effort setting up this stage because he wants to put on a show. Now that the actors and audience are in place, it’s time for the ‘director’ to appear.”

Sure enough, the next morning, a large entourage rode into Woniu Village.

At the head was a middle-aged man with a harsh expression and sharp eyes. He wore a luxurious black brocade robe, a long sword inlaid with gems at his waist. This was Chen Jing, current master of the Jingyun Hall, also known as the “Wind-Chasing Sword.”

His arrival immediately shifted the village’s relaxed atmosphere into tension. Many Jianghu figures working in the fields paused, looking at him with complex expressions.

Chen Jing seemed to enjoy the attention. Mounted on his horse, he looked down at the “fellows” carrying hoes and spades, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.

“Heh, seeing is believing. The mighty Jianghu has become a farmers’ gathering. I must admire Senior Gu’s skill in turning swords into plows,” he said. His voice was quiet but clear enough for everyone to hear.

The sarcasm in his words caused many heroes present to flush with embarrassment.

But before he could revel in it for long, a loud voice rang out from the crowd.

“Master Chen, you joke. We are not farming—we are experiencing life! You’ve never worked the fields, so you wouldn’t understand that food grown by your own hands tastes infinitely better! Unlike some, idle and ignorant, living off the labor of others!”

The speaker was none other than the fiery Kongtong elder. Sweat dripped from his brow, his clothes were a little disheveled, yet his confidence radiated.

His words prompted agreement from the surrounding Jianghu figures.

“Exactly! Master Chen, why don’t you try? I’ve just plowed an acre and need someone to fertilize it!”

“Yes! Master Chen, you look pale. Hard physical work will do more for you than any magic elixir!”

Chen Jing’s face darkened instantly. He hadn’t expected the villagers—or “mud-legs,” as he thought of them—to throw his meticulously prepared opening speech back in his face. After half a month in Woniu Village, they’d apparently been “brainwashed.”

Just as he was about to lose his temper, Jiang Suisui, accompanied by Steward Wang, approached with calm steps.

“Master Chen, welcome. Your guesthouse has been prepared for you and your entourage. However, according to estate rules, you must first register and receive your ‘contribution point task.’”

She handed him a brand-new Guest Handbook.

“Our estate is currently expanding the pigpens and needs hands. Seeing that you and your subordinates are all strong and capable, this task suits you perfectly.”

Chen Jing looked at the handbook, then at Jiang Suisui’s innocent, harmless smile. He felt a surge of fury almost erupting from his chest.

He—the proud master of Jingyun Hall—was being asked to build a pigpen?

This was sheer humiliation!