Zhao Hanzhang and Fu Tinghan followed along with the group.
The group was led directly outside the city, where the black-faced young man, with his hands on his hips, looked at them and admonished, "Although this is work relief, the government's money isn't easy to take. Everyone must complete their assigned tasks and not slack off, or else your wooden tags will be confiscated, and you'll be driven out! Now, everyone come to get your tools!"
Everyone lined up to get their tools. The black-faced young man held a few sheets of paper, which recorded their information. As he called out names, he scanned the information, matched faces to names, and started assigning tasks. "Take a hoe and start digging."
"You, take the wooden frame to transport the mud."
When Zhao Hanzhang stepped forward, the black-faced young man glanced at her, then at the records, and despised them, his face turning even darker, "You'll go and pack the mud,"
