Chapter 49

Chapter 49

Their first stop was Er Lai's place.

Mostly because Zhao Xiaowu said he knew the exact location, and Er Lai's house was close to Zhao Quan's place. Zhao Quan was also on good terms with A Song and Bai Zi. Pull one, and you'll get them all—once they found the first one, the rest wouldn't be too difficult.

This was something best done sooner than later, but given that refugees had gone into the hills earlier to grab folks, and nobody knew what was happening now, they decided to wait until nightfall to go find them.

Thanks to knowing the lay of the land, as long as they didn't carry torches, night was actually safer than day. The refugees weren't trained soldiers; they were just a group of ordinary people. If no one was leading them, Old Man Zhao figured he could handle five of them single-handed.

The only thing that worried him about the refugees was their weapons. When his eldest son and the others returned from the prefectural city, they mentioned that almost every refugee had a large knife, or at least an axe, cleaver, or sickle. Swords don't have eyes. Old Man Zhao had experienced fighting with the upstream village over water. Back then, for the sake of the crops in the fields, they dared to fight fiercely. With the same height and strength, having a weapon in hand meant dominance; without one, you had to lower your head and admit defeat.

He wasn't afraid of the refugees, but he was scared of the big knives they carried.

Otherwise, why would his three sons, each one strong as an ox, their first reaction be to hide when trouble arose? Because they truly couldn't win. He had an axe, but they had knives. Before he could even get close, they'd slash him down with a single stroke.

So, driving away the refugees wasn't simply about gathering a group of men to go down the mountain and fight them head-on. That kind of behavior was like an old man looking for a noose—a death wish. Old Man Zhao's idea was: since he feared their weapons, he'd take away what let them swagger around.

The reason tigers were feared wasn't because of their size, but because they had sharp teeth that could kill. If you pulled out their teeth, even with a mountain-like physique and agile limbs, they'd just be walking meat shields, posing no further threat.

After all, setting aside all external factors and just comparing the hardness of fists, he, Old Man Zhao, along with his three sons, weren't afraid!

The entire afternoon, Wang Shi and the others steamed buns and cooked coarse rice, all because Old Man Zhao said that since they were reaching out to these folks, they should at least bring some food. If those households hadn't hidden any grain in the mountains, giving them a couple of buns to fill their stomachs would still be a show of good faith.

Since he was taking the lead, he had to do things in a way that made people respect him. He could spare three or five buns.

In such matters, Wang Shi never questioned his decisions. She and her two daughters-in-law spent half a day steaming coarse flour buns, slightly smaller than the ones they ate themselves.

By evening, as the sky gradually darkened, two grown men and a boy slipped silently through the woods.

The hill where they'd seen smoke curling up during the day was quite far from their location. Er Lai's house was at the head of the village, while theirs was at the far end. In a straight line, it would probably take over an hour to walk. But you can't go straight in the mountains. After walking a stretch, there would be easy slopes and little drop-offs, so they had to go around, which was particularly time-consuming and draining.

Fortunately, Xiao Heizi led the way. The dog was sharp. Perhaps knowing they were sneaking through the forest at night and couldn't make noise, it didn't bark the whole way. Running ahead, it chased away snakes and boosted their courage—very capable.

Moonlight filtered through the leaves, dappling the ground. This was their only light to see by as they moved forward. Zhao Dashan and Zhao Xiaowu weren't afraid of walking at night. Father and son walked in silence. After crossing one large and one small mountain peak, they arrived at a hollow with two chestnut trees. Only then did Zhao Xiaowu stop.

"This it?" Zhao Dashan had just spoken when he heard rustling sounds from the other side of the hollow, out of the wind. Xiao Heizi had already dashed over happily, letting out a few soft whimpers from its throat.

It wasn't a growl of warning—more like the sound it made for someone it knew.

"Xiao Heizi, why are you here?" Er Lai's voice, full of delight, came from that direction. He hugged the dog's head that squeezed over, affectionately stroking its body as its tail wagged.

It gave a soft whine and licked his palm, clearly very familiar with him.

Er Lai's dad caught on too. He hurriedly stood up, holding his son. When he heard footsteps, it scared the life out of him. He never expected it to be the Zhao family.

Zhao Dashan also walked toward that side: "Yong Zi, it's me, Dashan."

"Dashan, it really is you!" Er Lai's dad was thrilled.

They were already close, just a dozen steps apart. The two soon met in the darkness.

Most of the villagers had a touch of night blindness. Zhao Dashan was better off. The clerk at Ping'an Clinic said eating more organ meats would help. His wife's severe night blindness was because she disliked eating innards. He and his son ate everything, often catching rabbits and pheasants in the mountains and buying cheap pig's innards. They could still see the ground when going out at night.

Er Lai's dad had it worse. His eyes didn't work well at night; he could only vaguely see a tall, familiar figure but couldn't make out the face. "What are you doing here so late!"

"That's why we came at night. Safer, right?" Zhao Dashan joked. It'd only been a few days, but seeing a good buddy of his safe and sound in this situation of fleeing and scattering, he was too happy for words. "How are things? Are Uncle and Auntie alright?"

"They're all fine." Er Lai's dad walked over, grabbed him, and playfully punched his shoulder twice. Beside them, Er Lai's grandparents and mother, awakened by the noise, hurriedly got up. Recognizing the voice, they said, "Dashan, why are you here? How are your parents? Are your wife and children alright?"

"Everyone's fine." Zhao Dashan stopped them from getting up. He took off his backpack and instead sat down with Er Lai's dad on the ground covered with leaves. It seemed everyone felt the air in the cellar was bad, so they slept guarding the cellar entrance at night. "During the day, my father and Xiaowu wanted to go down the mountain to see if the refugees had left, but they saw smoke rising from your hill. Not long after, refugees came up. My father guessed that since the refugees had seized grain but weren't leaving, they probably had their eyes on our crops. After returning, the family discussed it and felt we needed to find a way to drive the refugees away. Otherwise, even if we hid for a while, once our stored grain ran out and the crops in the fields were destroyed, next year the whole family would have nothing to eat, and we'd still starve to death."

Without much small talk, he directly stated his purpose.

Mentioning the refugees who entered the mountains that day, Er Lai's mother instinctively hugged her son.

After listening, Grandpa Er Lai nodded and sighed, "Yong Zi and I had the same guess. When we dug the cellar, we didn't think much and chose this halfway-up-the-mountain location. That day, fleeing for our lives, we were worried the refugees would chase us. Who knew they only captured villagers who hadn't escaped and didn't bother with us? At the time, I was relieved these people weren't too vicious, thinking they'd leave after seizing the grain. But as you know, Dashan, from our position, if we're careful, we can see the village. These past few days, we've watched helplessly as they occupied the village with no intention of leaving. I've thought it over and over and can only come up with one reason: the crops in the fields. They're probably eyeing those, wanting to pick our fruit."

Zhao Dashan nodded. It seemed everyone wasn't a fool; they all understood what was going on.

"These past two days, Yong Zi and I have been worried too. To be honest, Dashan, we hid some grain in the mountains. For now, it's okay; we can hold out for a while. But what about when the grain runs out? The house was looted clean, leaving only what's in the fields. That's our family's food for the entire year; we absolutely cannot lose it." These past two days, he had been bottling it up. Now, seeing Zhao Dashan, he opened up like a floodgate, pouring out all his worries.

Zhao Dashan took out the buns from his backpack and, ignoring their refusals, handed one to each person. Then he said, "My father thinks the same. The crops in the fields cannot be lost. Our family's idea is to find a few trustworthy households to band together and figure out a way to drive out that group of refugees in the village."

As he spoke, he turned to look at Er Lai's father beside him, who hadn't spoken yet, and asked, "Yong Zi, you were the first to discover the refugees back then. Did you see clearly? Roughly how many were there? What weapons did they have?"

"Looked like about thirty-some people." Er Lai's father thought for a moment before speaking. At the time, he was so scared his mind went blank. His only thought was to hurry back to the village to warn everyone. How could he have had the courage to count how many there were? "There were five men leading them, speaking a dialect I couldn't understand. They were tall and burly, about the same build as you brothers. Three of them had machetes, two had axes. The others had farm tools like sickles and chopping knives. At a glance, no one was empty-handed."

Zhao Dashan looked thoughtful. Three with machetes, two with axes. It seemed the refugees also had a clear hierarchy. It looked like five leaders, but in reality, only three were the main bosses.

"Dashan, driving away the refugees won't be easy." Grandpa Er Lai sighed. "We're just a bunch of peasants. A single kitchen knife gets passed down for three generations; we can't bear to throw it away even when it's chipped. Even if we want to stand up and gather the courage to resist, they have knives. What do we use to fight?" No one was born a coward. Homes occupied, grain stolen, even some men's wives violated—any man with a bit of backbone couldn't bear it.

But resistance wasn't something achieved by just clacking lips. The gap between the two sides was too great. Charging in foolishly would just mean throwing away lives for nothing. Their deaths weren't the scary part; the scary part was, after they died, who would protect their wives and children? Even if the refugees left later, without men to support the household, widows and orphans would be bullied in the village.

"The smoke your grandfather and the others saw today was from Zhao Youcai's family. He didn't listen to the village's advice back then and didn't hide grain in the mountains. After starving for three days, he couldn't take it anymore and tricked the family's big yellow dog. He was the one who lit the fire. The whole family gathered around the fire eating meat. When the refugees entered the mountains, the embers hadn't died out yet, and they were caught red-handed. Zhao Youcai couldn't produce grain. His wife was captured and taken down the mountain. He, his parents, and his two sons were all killed. Their bodies were thrown into the cellar, along with the pile of dog bones."

The reason he knew so clearly about Zhao Youcai's family's fate was because their two cellars weren't far apart. They heard the big yellow dog's howls. At the time, Yong Zi cursed Zhao Youcai for being heartless. If it weren't for that dog's alertness during the earthquake, their whole family would have been buried. Now, to kill it just like that—truly no conscience at all.

But they couldn't do anything. After all, it was someone else's dog; whether to kill or slaughter it wasn't up to him.

The old woman also said their family lighting a fire like that would probably let smoke out and might attract people. And indeed, she was right. When the refugees came up, their family hid in the cellar, listening to the screams and pleas from that side, too scared to utter a word.

They were originally worried about being exposed, but never expected the refugees to be so ruthless. Seeing there was no grain in Zhao Youcai's cellar, they killed all the men in the family without a second word and took his wife down the mountain.

Everything happened so fast, frightening them with the refugees' decisiveness and cruelty.

They hid in the cellar all afternoon, terrified of being discovered, and only dared to come out by evening.

Later, he and his son mustered the courage to go check the situation there. They found a pool of blood and haphazardly discarded bodies in the cellar—a scene too horrible to bear.