Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-One

Flowers bloom in twos, each branch telling its own story. Today marks the sixth day since Zhao Beichuan left.

The peasants from Qiushui Town have been marching westward for over three hundred miles.

The scorching sun still beats down on the earth, leaving the people wilted and lethargic, as if their feet were tethered to heavy stones, making every step an arduous task.

The officials at the front continuously urge them, "Hurry up, hurry up!" If they delay, they will all be punished! It would be unbearable, perhaps even fatal!

"Bang!" Someone ahead could no longer endure and collapsed onto the ground.

"Father, what's wrong with you!"

The old man's face was pale, his lips blue, and his eyes tightly shut, unconscious.

People from the same village quickly gathered around to help, giving him water and pressing his acupoints. After a while, the old man slowly regained consciousness.

"Father, you scared me to death..." The man sobbed, carrying the old man on his back, struggling to keep up with the group.

Not long after, another old man fell, but this time, he wasn't as lucky. Despite everyone's efforts, he passed away.

Though it was common for people to die during their labor service every year, it still deeply saddened everyone. They hastily buried the body by the roadside and planned to retrieve it and send it home once their service ended.

Wan'gou Village was just behind this village, and everyone felt a deep sense of sorrow.

Zhao Beichuan wiped the sweat from his neck and turned to ask Zhao Guang, "Uncle, how are you holding up?"

Zhao Guang, holding his waist, waved his hand, "No problem." This was nothing compared to when they fled from Qing Prefecture, covering a distance of three thousand miles!

By noon, the officials finally signaled for everyone to stop and rest.

People hurried to find shade and lay down haphazardly on the ground.

Zhao Beichuan took off his shoes and tended to the blisters on his feet. Yesterday, his feet had been fine, but today, he had developed four or five large blisters, each step causing excruciating pain. He reluctantly took out the leather-soled cloth shoes Lu Yao had sewn and planned to change into them later.

At noon, the cooks prepared millet porridge. Everyone was so exhausted that they barely had the energy to get their food, but they had to eat; otherwise, they wouldn't have the strength to continue their journey in the afternoon.

After drinking the porridge, Zhao Beichuan laid down with his pack as a pillow and fell asleep. Snoring sounds filled the air.

In a short while, he had a dream. In it, Lu Yao was cooking soy milk in the kitchen, stirring the bubbling pot and saying, "Beichuan, the donkey is hungry. Take the soybean residue to feed it."

As Zhao Beichuan reached for the bucket, he suddenly felt a jolt under his head and woke up abruptly.

He saw a man squatting beside him, reaching into his pack.

"What are you doing!"

The man, startled by his sudden awakening, tried to run away.

Zhao Beichuan grabbed his hair and punched him hard in the face.

After so many days, he finally dreamed of Lu Yao, only to have it ruined by this guy!

"Ouch, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let go!"

Zhao Beichuan, still angry, hit him harder, causing blood to gush from his nose and mouth.

"Help, help!" the man shouted, waking up those sleeping nearby. Everyone rushed to intervene.

"What's going on?"

"He was trying to steal my things!"

"I didn't steal anything..." the man still denied it.

The commotion drew the attention of the officials, who came over with whips, yelling, "What's happening?!"

Zhao Beichuan quickly released his grip, and the man dared not make any more noise. Everyone returned to their places, heads bowed.

With the disturbance, Zhao Beichuan lost his sleepiness and opened his pack to check if anything was missing.

His clothes and shoes were neatly folded, along with various items Lu Yao had packed for him. Upon closer inspection, he found a hidden compartment containing a small knife about the size of a palm.

He tested it and found it extremely sharp, unsure when Lu Yao had placed it there.

Besides the knife, there was also a bag of sugar cubes.

Zhao Beichuan popped one into his mouth, feeling the sweetness dissolve and easing his worries. He changed into the cloth shoes and, with the sound of the gong, set off again, rejuvenated.

Thirty miles further, they would reach Ping Prefecture. Though they couldn't enter the city, they could still see the grandeur of its outer walls.

At this point, no one realized their fate was about to change, and they excitedly discussed the size of Ping Prefecture.

They heard that the city walls were seven or eight zhang high, and the gates could accommodate four chariots side by side.

This place used to be a strategic stronghold, crucial for defending Shang Jing. The city was heavily fortified and stocked with provisions for soldiers stationed at the border.

By evening, they finally arrived outside Ping Prefecture, seeing the majestic ancient walls bathed in the sunset, like a giant beast guarding the city's inhabitants.

Zhao Beichuan swallowed hard, marveling at the sight and wishing Lu Yao could see it too!

That night, they rested outside the city, planning to continue their journey early the next morning.

Ancient peasants were not allowed to wander freely. The officials needed to present documents to enter the city and obtain a stamp from the prefectural office before proceeding.

The leading official, Yang Xiu, rode his horse into the city, hoping to get the stamp and spend the night there, taking a bath and having a proper meal. The recent days of rough travel had worn him out.

Upon arriving at the prefectural office and explaining his purpose, he was told to wait.

After waiting for a full hour, someone finally came to deliver a message: "There aren't enough hands to transport supplies northward. The governor has requisitioned the able-bodied men from Qiushui Town. They will depart tomorrow morning to transport grain to Ying Prefecture."

"W-What?!" Yang Xiu was stunned. "Sir, we were supposed to go to Fanyang to work on the imperial mausoleum. Delaying could mean beheading!"

"There's no need to worry. The higher-ups will send a letter explaining the situation."

"B-But..."

The official did not listen to his explanation and left after handing over the documents. To the higher-ups, it didn't matter where the commoners went, as long as they were useful.

Holding the paper, Yang Xiu felt as if struck by lightning. He couldn't recover for a long time, skipped his meal, and hurriedly rode out of the city on horseback.

"What? Transport grain?!"

"Shh, keep your voice down!" Yang Xiu glared at the accompanying official.

"B-But weren't we supposed to go to Fanyang to work on the imperial mausoleum?"

"The officials don't care about that. They just said to deliver the grain to Ying Prefecture, which can exempt us from the labor duty."

Ping Prefecture is more than seven hundred miles from Ying Prefecture, but with the difficult mountain roads, it would take nearly a month to make the round trip—much faster than serving labor duty.

"That's not bad. Everyone can return home sooner."

Yang Xiu patted him on the head. "You fool, do you think transporting this grain is easy? The army in Ying Prefecture is fighting the Khitans. If we encounter an ambush along the way, how many of these unarmed civilians do you think will survive?!"

Upon hearing this, the others' faces turned pale. "W-What should we do... My husband is waiting for me to return..."

Yang Xiu's face also darkened. Who doesn't have family ties? When he left, his young son had just learned to call him father. If something happened to him... what would become of his family?

"For now, act like we know nothing. Otherwise, I fear someone might run away at night. The officials will send people tomorrow morning, so we'll deal with it then." For them, low-ranking officials and commoners were no different; if the commoners were ants, they were mere insects.

None of the officials slept well that night. The youngest one even shed tears, thinking they would return home after delivering the people to Fanyang. Instead, they encountered such a misfortune.

*

At dawn, officials arrived to count the number of people.

Everyone groggily got up, still unsure what was happening.

After counting, all 1,160 people followed the officials into the city of Ping Prefecture.

"What's going on?" someone whispered.

"I don't know. Maybe they're letting us rest in the city for a day before we leave tomorrow?"

Zhao Beichuan was quite pleased. He had twenty taels of silver with him. If they really let them rest for a day, he planned to ask permission to walk around the city and buy some things for Lu Yao.

As they walked, everyone noticed something was amiss. After entering the city and walking for half an hour without stopping, they finally reached the western military camp. The leading official announced loudly, "The governor of Ping Prefecture has ordered you to transport two thousand and one hundred stones of grain north to Ying Prefecture within twenty days. A delay of one day means thirty lashes, three days means eighty lashes, and five days means execution!"

"Ah?!" Everyone was shocked.

"Weren't we supposed to work on the imperial mausoleum? Why are we transporting grain now?"

"I don't know!"

Most people didn't understand what escorting grain meant, so although confused, they didn't show much resistance.

Only a few older men, terrified, collapsed on the ground and began crying. They had heard that being conscripted by the military during wartime was almost certain death.

"Silence!"

After a quarter of an hour, the military camp sent a brave officer and a grain official. They divided the civilians into teams of ten, each team responsible for one cart, and directed them to the granary to load the grain.

Zhao Beichuan's team included Zhao Guang, Qin's father, Qin's elder brothers, Tian's elder brother, Gao Wan, Gao Qinghe, Gao Qinghai, and an old man named Zhang Mao.

The Gao family members were apprehensive about being grouped with Zhao Beichuan, remembering how they had offended him over the "borrowed grain" incident. They weren't sure if he still held a grudge.

The minor officials distributed numbered wooden tokens to each team. Upon reaching Ying Prefecture, they would deliver the grain and hand over the token to complete their task.

Each token represented the entire team. If there was a delay or anyone escaped, the government would directly send people to arrest their families as substitutes.

The ten-person team first went to fetch a cart. Most of the carts were retired from the battlefield, some with broken wheels or snapped shafts. They took whatever they got, and whether it worked depended on luck. If the cart was unusable, they would have to carry the load on their shoulders.

Zhao Beichuan's team was lucky and got a usable wooden cart. They pulled it to the granary to queue for the grain.

Each cart carried eighteen stones of grain, packed in sacks of beans and millet. The carts with straw were lighter but piled very high, making them harder to pull.

Soon it was their turn. Soldiers loaded the cart with over ten sacks of grain, filling it quickly. The team then pulled the cart to a nearby open area to discuss the division of labor.

Zhao Beichuan had the most authority among them, and everyone willingly followed his lead.

"Since you trust me, I'll assign the tasks. We have three elderly people in our team: Uncle Zhao, Uncle Qin, and Uncle Zhang. It would be too strenuous for them to pull the cart, so let's have them push from behind, okay?"

Everyone agreed.

"The remaining seven of us will take turns pulling the cart for half an hour each. If anyone feels unwell, others can step in. How does that sound?"

Everyone nodded again.

"Alright, I'll start. Elder Brother Qin and Second Brother Qin will follow me, then Elder Brother Tian and the Gao brothers will take turns."

Zhao Beichuan placed the rope from the shaft on his shoulder and lifted it. The weight was manageable, and pulling it wouldn't be too difficult, except on bumpy terrain.

Zhao Guang quickly helped push the cart, and the others joined in.

Ahead, a path had already been cleared, and hundreds of carts formed a long line moving slowly forward. In addition, there were two hundred soldiers accompanying the convoy to protect the grain.

Pulling the grain carts slowed their pace. Previously, they could cover sixty miles a day, but now they could manage only forty. Reaching Ying Prefecture within twenty days would be very tight.

However, Zhao Beichuan was quite happy. They didn't have to go to Fanyang to work on the imperial mausoleum. As long as they delivered the grain to Ying Prefecture, they could return home. If everything went smoothly, he could be back in a month!

Thinking of Lu Yao, Zhao Beichuan felt an endless surge of energy, pulling the cart at a quick pace, leaving the older men struggling to keep up.

After about an hour and a half, it was time to switch, and Qin's eldest brother took over.

Seeing how effortlessly Zhao Beichuan had pulled the cart, he assumed it wasn't heavy at all. He grabbed the rope, ready to move forward, but the cart suddenly sank, almost toppling him over.

"Big Brother!" Qin Erlang hurriedly helped him steady the cart.

"No, no, I'm fine." Qin's eldest brother gritted his teeth and strained to pull the cart forward. After just ten steps, he was drenched in sweat.

Gaoqinghe behind them snorted, "Let me try. If you can't even pull this much grain, we'll be wasting time."

Qin's eldest brother reluctantly switched places with Gaoqinghe, who flexed his arms, slung the rope over his shoulder, and gave it a strong tug.

The cart didn't budge.

Gaoqinghe refused to believe it, wondering why Zhao Beichuan could pull it so easily while he couldn't even move it. He gathered all his strength and tried again!

The cart slowly started moving forward.

Behind them, Gao Qinghai suggested, "Maybe two people should pull together."

Several carts passed them, and others urged, "Quick, two people per cart! Everyone else is doing it!"

With no choice, Gaoqinghe, blushing, called for his brother's help. Together, they pulled the cart forward.

In just half an hour, both were panting heavily, their shoulders raw and burning from the friction.

The journey ahead was still long; by the time they reached their destination, their shoulders would likely be torn apart.

No wonder the elders cried when they heard about transporting military supplies. It was not only dangerous but also exhausting—work that even dogs wouldn't do.

After resting for half an hour at noon, everyone continued on their way, with Zhao Beichuan leading once more.

This time, everyone noticed the difference. They knew the boy was strong, but never imagined he could make such a heavy load seem weightless.

Gaoqinghe felt a chill down his spine, grateful that he hadn't completely offended Zhao Beichuan back in the village. Otherwise, he and his brothers wouldn't stand a chance against him.

As they passed through Beilian Pavilion, the group suddenly stopped, and cries echoed from ahead.

Everyone sat down for a brief rest, and Zhao Beichuan went to inquire. He returned with a grim face, saying, "Two more people have died from exhaustion up ahead."

Hearing this, everyone sighed heavily. The journey was long, the weather hot, and the load heavy. Anyone could succumb to exhaustion at any moment.

An old man named Zhang Mao couldn't hold back his tears, "Why must my life be so hard...? Taken as a conscript in my youth, barely surviving to old age, now this... Heaven doesn't want me to live!"

He spoke of being conscripted during Prince Jing's rebellion, when most of the village's men were taken. Wan'gou Village used to be large, with over two hundred households. After the conscription, only seventy remained, the rest having lost their families.

After wiping away his tears, the old man said, "If you encounter battles on your way north, run if you can. Don't fight them head-on; you'll die faster!"

Everyone nodded solemnly, respecting the old man's experience.

Once the bodies were buried, they resumed their journey, truly embodying the saying: "Hard labor wears out lives, bones litter the fields unseen..."

On the eighth evening of their return journey from Ping Prefecture, they passed through Qiushui Town again. From afar, they could see the town's houses, and many began to sob.

The officials feared someone might escape home at night and urged them to keep moving, ordering them to travel twenty more miles tonight without stopping here.

Zhao Beichuan pulled the cart while looking back at the town, where he could clearly see his family's breakfast shop from the high ground.

His longing peaked, and he strained his eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of Lu Yao, just one look.

Unfortunately, it was too late; the shop had already closed for the night.

"Hurry up, hurry up! No stopping!" The official whipped his whip to drive them forward.

Everyone gritted their teeth, walking while looking back until the town disappeared over the hill.

That night, a cavalry officer rode up and said, "We're close to your homes. I know you all want to go back, but no one can return until the supplies are delivered!"

In the darkness, people sat silently on the ground.

"Now, you not only bear the burden of forced labor but also the responsibility of delivering supplies north. Anyone caught escaping will result in collective punishment for ten people. If all ten escape, their families will suffer. Do you understand?"

"Yes," came a weak response.

After dinner, which ended around the hour of Xu, everyone was too exhausted to stay awake and fell asleep on the ground.

In the middle of the night, Zhao Beichuan suddenly opened his eyes, noticing something. By the starlight, he saw the old man named Zhang Mao quietly getting up and running away into the distance!