张胖子_args push forward the heavy wooden door, which groaned "吱呀" in response. He hesitated for a moment, peering inside. In the courtyard, a few sprigs of young cabbage shimmered under the morning light, lively and verdant. Beside them, a puddle of water reflected the sky. An old man, surnamed Wang, wearing a gardener's apron, was toiling away, adding soil to the vegetable beds with a grunt.

I, carrying an empty bucket, walked over. The white wall beside me still bore faint patches of fresh mud.

"Morning, Wang Head," I said, wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. "Got any new orders?"

Wang Head looked up, his face etched with fatigue but his eyes still sharp. "Zhang Fengzi, you're coming just in time. I've been digging around the new plot, but I can't reach the deeper layers with this old bones. You, with your youthful vigor, can lend a hand."

I smirked. "That's what I'm here for. How deep are we talking?"

"Just below the surface," Wang Head chuckled, "but it needs to be plowed properly. The seedlings need loose, fertile soil."