Another day of exhausting sugar stirring work was over, and the silent Kulu left the cave.

He wanted to rub his sore and swollen shoulders, but his arms hurt so much that he couldn't lift his hands.

The lookout tower in the yard cast a faint light, and the neatly stacked piles of sugarcane cast long shadows, like a terrifying monster ready to devour people.

Kulu glanced at the towering pile of sugarcane, thought about the day's work, saw that it still showed no obvious signs of diminishing, and sighed lightly.

Because his relationship with his companions was the worst, the least likable, and he wasn't close to Teacher Sunday and Saturday.

Every day of sugar stirring, he always had a share of the most tiring tasks, yet he couldn't avoid them.

In any case, life here was much more comfortable than in the tribe, and he could have a warm meal at night when he got home.

It's just that comparisons make things worse, and compared to those companions who didn't have to stir sugar, Kulu felt somewhat uncomfortable in his heart.

Especially in the past few days, his arms hurt more and more, his stirring of syrup became less forceful, and if this went on, the sugar blocks he made would be substandard, and he feared he would be blamed.

Thinking of this, Kulu's mood dropped even lower.

The only thing he could be thankful for was that the person in charge of overseeing the sugar work was the gentle Teacher Saturday, rather than Sunday, who tended to lose his temper and whip people, so even if he didn't do well, he wouldn't face severe punishment.

...

Pushing open the wooden door, Kulu, the last one to leave the small courtyard, heard the sound of clanging behind him.

The sound came from the Forging Room.

These past few days, the Leader had been staying in the Forging Room from before sunrise until after sunset.

Today, the Leader worked for an especially long time, and from the orange glow coming out of the Forging Room's window, he could tell that it must be blazing hot inside.

"The Leader has to work so long, what right do I have to complain?

Just hang in there for a few more days..."

Kulu thought, closing the small courtyard's door.

After walking only a few steps down the mountain, he saw someone he knew beside the fields, and his steps involuntarily halted.

He walked over to the person in small steps, bowed respectfully, and greeted him.

"Teacher, it's so late, you haven't rested yet?"

"I came specifically to find you, as you're the last one to head home."

Despite his young age, Saturday was about the same height as Kulu, and when he spoke, he had a maturity and leadership quality that surpassed Kulu's.

He lightly patted Kulu's shoulder and asked with concern.

"I heard the sugar stirring work is exhausting. You've been doing it for several days; you must be worn out."

Kulu was caught off guard by the touch on his shoulder, and upon hearing Saturday's question, he was flattered and lowered himself even more, repeatedly insisting he wasn't exhausted.

"Are you afraid of zebra knowing?"

Saturday asked again.

Seeing Kulu remain silent, he smiled.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to test you. Zebra isn't influential enough to sway me.

It's the Leader who heard about the uneven workload and that some people have been doing the toughest jobs for several days running. He asked me to give you sugar stirrers some compensation."

Saying this, Saturday took out a small flat wooden box from his pocket, opened the lid under the light cast by the lookout tower, and showed it to Kulu.

Inside were rows of rectangular, dark brown sugar cubes, shimmering like little pieces of amber in the faint light.

"Half of the brown sugar here is yours, and the other half you should distribute to those who stirred sugar these past few days.

For each day of sugar stirring, you get two pieces, and if it's not enough, come find me. This is your compensation."

After speaking, Saturday closed the lid and, before Kulu could decline, stuffed the wooden box into his arms.

Then he instructed.

"Remember, this brown sugar is a reward from the Leader for you and should be kept separate from the communal food and spices.

No one can take your reward without your permission.

Zebra can't, Sunday can't, I can't, understand?"

Seeing Kulu nod dumbfoundedly, Saturday continued.

"Let me teach you a new phrase: 'private property.' Just like my paintings and books belong solely to me.

But there's one exception, and that's the Leader.

We all belong to the Leader, including my books and paintings, and also your brown sugar, and all your 'private property.'"

Mentioning the "Celestial God" always filled Saturday's face with a look of reverence, and his head would involuntarily tilt upwards, as if he could see the omnipotent Leader in the sky.

...

Kulu clutched the heavy wooden box under his arm—having his arms down made him feel more comfortable.

Silently waiting for Teacher Saturday to continue speaking, after a moment, he finally received the last instruction.

"After you go back, if they ask you where the sugar is from, just tell them the truth.

If zebra gives you trouble, go directly to Sunday, and Sunday will handle it.

That's all I have to say to you, go home, eat, and rest well. You probably won't have to do such heavy work tomorrow."

With that, Saturday waved his hand, indicating that Kulu could leave.

...

Kulu tightly clasped the wooden box containing the precious brown sugar, his heart a mix of emotions.

The unexpected turn from utter exhaustion to receiving a reward was too surprising. It was as if he had been lifted from Hell to Heaven in an instant, leaving him at a loss for words. All he could do was bow deeply to Saturday again.

"There's no need to thank me. If you want to thank someone, thank our great Leader. Without him, you'd still be in the tribe on the Archipelago, catching fish.