The moment Zhou Ping returned to the village, he summoned the members of the dozen or so surnames to the village entrance. He pulled out the official document and displayed it for all to see.

"From today onward, I, Zhou Erlang (Zhou Ping's childhood name), am the Village Head of our Baixi Village. I will surely lead the village to become prosperous and strong," Zhou Ping shouted from the high platform.

"I hope all uncles, brothers, and elders will show me favor. With your cooperation moving forward, our village will remain harmonious, and neighbors will treat each other as kin."

Below him, the members of the four great surnames naturally gnashed their teeth in hatred, yet they dared not voice it. After all, Zhou Ping knew immortal arts and was well-acquainted with the county's Master of Records. They simply could not afford to test his sharp edge.

"Grandfather, do not be angry. We are not the only ones feeling anxious," Liu Ming said, comforting the furious Liu Quan.

"I went to the county town to investigate. It turns out Lord Lin's son was afflicted with a severe illness, which is why they sought out Zhou Erlang (Zhou Ping's childhood name)."

"Since the Immortal's methods are so remarkable, capable of growing flesh on white bones and purging illness and disaster, we should be even less willing to make enemies with him. If we fall ill, we can also seek his aid."

"Besides, the Zhou family has few members. Even in ten years, they won't be able to catch up to our family's numbers. Why fight to the death over this?"

"When Zhou Erlang (Zhou Ping's childhood name) grows old, he will naturally end up like those old Immortal Masters in the city. Will the Zhou family still be able to throw their weight around then?"

"I heard from Aunt Min that Cousin Xiu earned military merit and was promoted to a Squad Commander. Should the clan tilt some resources his way to help him smooth the path?"

Liu Quan had been furious only because he had fought the other three clans for the Village Head position for decades, only for Zhou Ping to snatch it away so effortlessly. It was a momentary blockage of indignation; he had not lost his reason.

Hearing Liu Ming's words, he pondered for a moment before saying, "We can allocate an appropriate amount, but we must also examine his character. The clan's wealth is limited, so we absolutely must not use it recklessly."

After all, the Liu family had not been established for very long. Ninety-nine percent of them were peasant sons who scratched a living from the earth. It was only by Liu Ming's generation that their population had truly flourished.

There was Liu Ming studying literature, Liu Hai and a few others practicing martial arts, and a good child like Liu Xiu joining the army to earn merit.

As long as Liu Ming passed the imperial examinations and secured a minor official position, or if Liu Xiu became a Hundred-Man Commander, their Liu family would rise with the tide. Why would they fear Zhou Ping then?

This was the very method by which all clans grew: the mediocre guarded the home and protected the clan, while the intelligent were nurtured using the collective strength of the family. Once they achieved success, they would repay the clan, uplift their blood relatives, and thereby form a complex, deeply-rooted family power.

Although the four great surnames were angry and envious, they harbored no further ambitions. Despite Zhou Ping momentarily enjoying boundless glory, the Zhou family's foundation was far too thin to truly threaten them.

Amidst the crowd, however, the smaller households were overjoyed.

The rise of the Zhou family and Zhou Ping becoming Village Head was excellent news for them.

In the past, the four great surnames had used the authority of the Village Head and the sheer weight of their numbers to constantly bully and oppress these smaller households.

Because the Village Head was responsible for collecting the village's taxes and organizing corvée labor, those large families would often inform them at the very last minute. This made it impossible for them to gather enough grain to pay the tax or free up the time to fulfill their labor duties, forcing them to use money as compensation instead.

But how could these small households have any money? They had no choice but to sell off their family assets and land.

They had gone to the county yamen to file complaints, but the great families hadn't technically broken any laws, so the matters were left unresolved. When they returned to the village, they suffered even worse humiliation and exploitation at the hands of the large families.

Otherwise, why would the great families possess so much land, while a small family like the Zhous only had a few mu? Was it not because it was stripped away piece by piece?

If things continued this way for another few decades, these small households would lose all their land and be reduced to lifelong laborers for the great families, subject to their exploitation.

But the Zhou family was different. They had few people, and the rent they collected was low. At least for the next few years, these small households could enjoy a good life.

Old Chen hid within the crowd, gazing up at Zhou Ping on the high platform, his mind pondering unknown thoughts.

...

"Everyone, put some strength into it! Raise the main beam!" a man roared.

"Heave-ho! Heave-ho!"

On a leveled plot of land, a dozen or so men were working with burning enthusiasm, laying the foundation and hoisting the thick wooden beams.

In the distance, countless large bluestones were piled high alongside solid logs as thick as a man's waist, while sand and gravel formed small hills.

Zhou Hong set down a large bucket of mung bean soup. Watching the bustling scene in the distance, his heart filled with endless joy.

After Zhou Ping returned home, he had sent him to the county town to recruit carpenters and stonemasons. Zhou Ping declared that he wanted to build a sprawling three-courtyard compound for the entire family to live in.

Zhou Dashan and his wife naturally tried to dissuade him, insisting there was no need to build something so enormous.

After all, a three-courtyard compound boasted over a dozen rooms and covered a full two mu of land. Perhaps it wasn't large to the great families, but the Zhou family currently only had six people. They couldn't even fill half of it.

Giving up two mu of farming land just to build a house naturally made the hearts of these peasant folk ache.

But Zhou Ping countered, "Father, Mother, our family might not have many people now, but our numbers will grow in the future. I am thinking of our descendants, securing a thick foundation for our family."

"Only by living together can future generations maintain close bonds and familial harmony. We can become like those great clans, united from top to bottom."

"In fact, I still think we're building it too small. When there are more descendants in the future, I'll build around it and connect the whole area together."

And just like that, Zhou Dashan and his wife were persuaded. Zhou Hong and his wife were even less likely to object; as Zhou Changhe grew older, they had long harbored the desire to build a new house.

Watching the workers toiling with such fervor and the compound gradually taking shape, Zhou Hong was already fantasizing about living there in the future. He let out an honest grin and shouted, "Everyone, take a break! Come have some soup to calm down."

The men immediately dropped their tools and rushed over with eager excitement.

"Thank you, Proprietor," a man said respectfully as he took a bowl of soup.

"The Proprietor is truly a kind man. Not only does he pay well, but he also worries about us getting tired and provides us with soup. In all my years doing labor for various families, I've never encountered this," a withered old man, bare-chested, said before taking a hearty gulp.

"Isn't that the truth? Once this job is done, the money I've saved will be enough to find a wife for my eldest," chimed in another man with graying temples.

"How does the Zhou family have so much money?" another man couldn't help but ask. "If I were them, I wouldn't be throwing silver around like this. No matter how thick the family foundation, it'll all be squandered."

"Originally, they were just like us, three generations scratching a living from the dirt," a fellow villager from Baixi Village who was helping out said sourly. "But who can blame their good fortune? They produced an Immortal Master, and in one fell swoop, they turned their luck around and became masters."

"An Immortal Master?" someone asked in confusion. "Why wouldn't an Immortal Master stay in the city to be a lord?"

"Who knows? Maybe he just likes it here."

The stonemasons and carpenters from the county town burst into hearty laughter upon hearing this. "Oh, come off it! It's a poor, remote backwater. Who would ever like it here?"

Just then, a figure came galloping from afar on a fiery steed, kicking up clouds of dust. It was an extraordinarily distinguished young man dressed in green robes. His eyes blazed like torches, and he carried two dead rabbits in his hand.

The newcomer was naturally Zhou Ping. There were no household matters that required his attention, the autumn harvest was still ongoing, and it wasn't yet time to collect taxes. With nothing to do in the village, he had grown exceedingly bored and rode into the mountains to hunt wild animals.

"Big Brother, I'm heading home first! The sun is scorching today, don't let yourself overheat!" he called out to Zhou Hong. Before leaving, he cast a few sweeping glances over the hired men, then spurred his horse toward the house.

"I know," Zhou Hong said with a smile, rubbing his head.

The men from the county were utterly stunned. They stood as docile as quails, their earlier bravado completely vanquished.

When Zhou Ping had glanced at them from afar, he had actually been secretly circulating a technique, allowing the chilling, slaughterous aura of metal and stone to crash into their minds.

It wouldn't harm their bodies, but it was enough to shake their spirits-a minor punishment for wagging their tongues.

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