Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Zhao Song and Zhao Bai were initially surprised when they heard the reason for the visit.

Zhao Song was from the senior branch of the family, while Zhao Bai was from the fourth branch. Their grandfather was a paternal cousin of Zhao Dashan's. Old Man Zhao was their great-grandfather's younger brother. In their great-grandfather's generation, there were seven brothers in total. The third and sixth brothers didn't survive to adulthood, passing away in their teens. Only five sons lived to adulthood. Old Man Zhao was the youngest son, number seven. By the time he was born, his eldest brother was already a grandfather—Zhao Song's father was even several years older than his youngest uncle.

That's how it goes with the youngest branch producing elders. Zhao Xiaobao, who was the same age as Zhao Song's son, was, by seniority, someone Zhao Song had to address as "grandaunt."

His son had it even worse—he'd have to call her "great-grandaunt."

Although they were already the fourth generation, because they were still within the five degrees of kinship, the relationship was still considered close. That's why, when Zhao Xiaobao was born, the senior and fourth branches gave generous gifts of a hundred copper coins each.

The reason it was the senior and fourth branches was entirely due to a past family division dispute. Speaking of it, Zhao Song and Zhao Bai felt ashamed, but the second and fifth branches were even more embarrassed. Not only had the youngest branch cut ties with them over the years, but even the two branches themselves barely interacted anymore. This time, when Zhao Quan came, saying Uncle Dashan had sent him to ask for their thoughts, Zhao Song and Zhao Bai agreed almost without hesitation.

Over the years, they had actually wanted to mend relations with the youngest branch. After all, most of the older generation had passed away. Of their great-grandfather's generation, only Zhao Dagen remained. People, at certain times, really wish for another elder in the clan who can take charge. Old Man Zhao was highly respected in the village for his conduct—he wasn't the type to flaunt his seniority. Zhao Song and Zhao Bai truly held great admiration for their great-granduncle.

This time, with his family taking the initiative to extend an olive branch, the two brothers practically jumped at the chance to reconcile.

Of course, this wasn't impulsive. They weren't fools. The current situation in the village was clear to anyone with a bit of sense. They had been worrying about what to do, and now the opportunity had arrived.

"Can you contact the Li and Wu families?" Zhao Quan hadn't expected things to go so smoothly. Remembering there were many families with the surnames Li and Wu in the village, he added, "I mean Li Dahe and Wu Dazhu's families."

Zhao Song's wife was from the Li family. The two families were on good terms and had even helped each other dig their cellars. Hearing this, he immediately nodded. "I know about them. They're over by the burial mounds. They said the grave hills are safe, as people rarely go there. They dug their cellar right next to the ancestors' graves."

"..." Zhao Quan couldn't help but think to himself, what a pair of geniuses, their brains must be cut from the same cloth. "Since you know, then finding them is up to you. Regardless of whether they're willing or not, we'll meet at Huai Xia Wan at the beginning of the mao hour (5-7 AM). We'll discuss the specifics of how to proceed then."

With that, he turned and left without looking back.

Uncle Dashan's idea was for Er Lai and his family to "move." Zhao Youcai's wife had been captured and taken down the mountain. No one knew if she might reveal the location of Er Lai's family's cellar. For safety's sake, it was best to relocate.

As for where to move, the discussion concluded that the two families would temporarily team up. Er Lai's grandparents were good-natured elders. Er Lai and Gou Sheng were good brothers. His wife and Er Lai's mother could also get along. With the two families looking out for each other, he and Er Lai could act freely.

Once he left, Zhao Song and Zhao Bai looked at each other.

"Should we go to the burial mounds now?" Zhao Song was a bit apprehensive. It was the zi hour (11 PM-1 AM), the time of day when yin energy was strongest. He was genuinely afraid of encountering ghosts. "Bai Zi, you've been brave since childhood. How about you go?"

Zhao Bai rolled his eyes at him and, without a word, grabbed his arm and started pulling him along. "What's there to be afraid of? Are ghosts scarier than the refugees? Didn't you hear what Quan Zi said? Zhao Youcai's whole family is dead. The longer we wait, the riskier it gets. We've had great rain and sun this year—a rare thing. The rice in the fields is doing so well. Are we just gonna let the refugees take it? Over my dead body."

Ethereal ghosts are nowhere near as terrifying as cruel people.

Burial mounds, burial mounds—they bury the ancestors of our village generation after generation. Even if they were to rise and scare people, they'd scare the refugees down the mountain, not their own descendants who fled into the hills.

However, being able to sleep sprawled out and snoring loudly in the burial grounds, the people from the Li and Wu families seemed, no matter how you looked at it, downright simple-minded.

Hearing the snoring from afar scared Zhao Song half to death. He thought someone was sawing wood in the middle of the night—one sound after another, each one more vigorous and rhythmic than the last. He instantly ran through all the old men from the village who had died in recent years in his mind. None of their families were carpenters!

Following the sound, as they got closer and took a look—well, the two families were lying on makeshift mats pieced together. Li Mancang's daughter was sleeping soundly in Wu Sanzhu's wife's arms, so intimate you'd think they were mother and daughter. Meanwhile, Wu Dazhu's youngest son was lying on Li Dahe's stomach, rising and falling with his breaths. His own proper eldest grandson had half his buttocks perched on old lady Wu's tombstone. It was utterly absurd!

The scene was truly eerie yet warm, warm yet ridiculous.

Sensing they were being watched, Li Dahe groggily opened his eyes. He saw two motionless figures standing among the trees in the distance. The faint moonlight shone on them, making their faces appear ghastly pale.

The night wind howled, leaves rustled.

Li Dahe's eyes rolled back, and before fainting, he successfully woke everyone up: "Ahhh~~~ Ghosts~!"

...

The next day, Huai Xia Wan.

Seventeen men sat crowded together on a gentle slope sheltered from the wind: Er Lai's father, Zhao Quan, Zhao Song, Zhao Bai, Li Dahe and his two sons, Wu Dazhu and his two brothers, plus Old Man Zhao and his three sons, and the two brothers Zhao Sanwang and Zhao Daniu.

Zhao Sanwang and Zhao Daniu were found by Wu Dazhu in the latter half of the night. Speaking of their relationship, there was a bit of a feud. Zhao Sanwang was the type who most enjoyed bullying honest folks. He couldn't shake his thieving habits. Coincidentally, the three Wu brothers were all honest, simple men who didn't like to nitpick or argue. When he would pull their green onions or vegetables, they'd see it but not say anything. If they were really unhappy, they'd just ask Zhao Sanwang to take less, saying they still needed to eat.

Back and forth, strangely enough, Zhao Sanwang ended up being quite protective of the Wu family. Especially after the formidable old lady Wu passed away, the Wu Dazhu brothers were all poor with words. The wives they married and the children they had were also rather slow. They couldn't even win arguments against the village women. When their kids were bullied, they didn't dare fight back. Zhao Sanwang, being less scrupulous, wasn't above hitting women or children. After stepping in a few times to protect the Wu family children, the two families inexplicably grew closer.

And Zhao Sanwang and Zhao Daniu were cousins. So, when Wu Dazhu went over in the middle of the night, it was another case of "pull up a radish and bring out the mud."

There was a reason Old Man Zhao had considered them. As you can see, no one was absent. Even Li Dahe, who wasn't initially included, came in person.

After running around all night, everyone looked like they hadn't slept well, yawning and picking at their toes.

Among those present, apart from Li Dahe, those surnamed Zhao were basically juniors. Even Zhao Sanwang kept his head down and listened obediently as Old Man Zhao spoke: "To all who have come here today, I, Old Man Zhao, will presume to speak plainly. From now on, we are our own people. Regardless of surname, bloodline, or past relations, from this day forward, we are of one mind. Whichever family has difficulties, we help together. Whichever family is bullied, we stand up together. I won't spout nonsense about sharing fortune together. Just this one sentence: If I, Zhao Dagen, have a mouthful of rice to eat, you, Li Dahe, will definitely have a bowl to wash!"

Although he was singled out as an example, Li Dahe was thrilled. He immediately slapped his thigh and shouted, "Good! Well said, Brother Dagen!"

"Whatever Great-Granduncle says, we'll listen!"

"Uncle Da Gen, we'll all listen to you!"

This declaration of unity stirred everyone's hearts. Really, what's washing a bowl? If you have food to eat, then you have bowls to wash!

Li Dahe clapped his hands vigorously. They were all old men, so how come he didn't have this eloquence? He could only say things like, "In the future, if my latrine has manure, I'll definitely let you carry half a bucket to fertilize your vegetables"—such crude talk.

Old Man Zhao was drowned in the cheers, smugly raising an eyebrow. This was something he had pondered all night, prepared to use today to boost morale. Clearly, the effect was good. He cleared his throat and continued, "I imagine you all understand that what we're about to do is equivalent to tying our heads to our belts. If any of you regret it now, it's too late. Once you're on this boat, there's no getting off. So, from this moment on, all of you, including myself, must be prepared that we might not return."

The originally somewhat relaxed atmosphere suddenly turned grave.

Even the usually grinning Zhao Sanwang straightened his expression and nodded along with everyone else.

"Uncle-Grandfather, although your family is taking the lead, ultimately, we're doing this for our own families, and for the village houses and the crops in the fields. Don't worry, we all understand the consequences. Since we dared to come, we're not cowards. A person lives their life and dies in the end, but they shouldn't die wretchedly. We are the pillars of our households and naturally must shoulder the responsibility of upholding our family's honor. We were cowardly once before, which has left us in this difficult, stuck situation. Since the refugees down the mountain are forcing us like this, we can only risk our lives to fight for a way out."

Zhao Sanwang's words made everyone nod in agreement. They were all quite surprised. Who would have thought this guy, a mischievous child for the first ten years and a lazy loafer for the next ten, could actually step up when it was time to shoulder responsibility.

It really goes to show you can't judge a book by its cover.

"I'd rather be cut down by a knife now than watch my children starve to death later," Zhao Song nodded along. After thinking for a moment, he turned to Old Man Zhao and asked, "Great-Granduncle, I want to ask a petty question. Our few families are risking our lives. What about the others in the village? Do we just let them hide behind us and reap the benefits? They're not contributing at all."

As soon as he said this, Li Dahe nodded repeatedly. He had thought of this question too. Honestly, thinking about it made him uncomfortable, feeling taken advantage of.

"That's why I said from now on, our few families are our own people," Old Man Zhao said solemnly. "Those who aren't of one mind, whose courage is insufficient—they would only hold us back. Even without them, could we just stand by and watch the refugees seize our crops? No! If things go smoothly, the villagers will naturally benefit from our efforts. But don't expect to gain anything from them in return. We've been neighbors for decades. You all know their temperaments. Letting them take advantage is a necessary evil. We can't control others, we can only do our own thing. In the future, when facing matters, we'll be of one mind. Then no one in the village will dare to bully us. Whoever dares to order our families around, we'll go directly to their house and smash it up. Today they take advantage of us; tomorrow when they see us, they'll have to lower their heads by half."

These words went straight to everyone's hearts, especially the three Wu brothers, who subconsciously puffed out their chests.

Good, this is how it should be. They act like turtle sons now, they'll be turtle grandsons later, forever having to tuck their heads in around us!

Old Man Zhao thought to himself that once this matter was settled, he had another important matter to discuss with them.

Since he spoke of being of one mind, he, Old Man Zhao, would be an open and honest person. He wouldn't talk about pulling them up, but if there was any danger, he'd warn them in advance.

He was a man of principle!

Everyone was convinced by his words and stopped worrying about whether they might be taken advantage of.

With the side matters discussed, it was time to talk business.

Old Man Zhao continued, "The method my third son thought of, I believe we can give it a try. What we need to discuss now is whether we only light one fire or split into several locations to light fires. Each approach has its pros and cons. Lighting only one fire means we're all together. If a fight breaks out, we can watch each other's backs. Taking a step back, even if we really can't beat them, at least a few of us might escape. Of course, the downside is also obvious. The refugees wouldn't be scattered, so we'd face more enemies."

"As for splitting into several locations to lure them, the advantage is that the refugees would be scattered. The disadvantage is that we'd also have to split up. If we're unlucky and encounter a few skilled refugees, perhaps none of us on that side would survive."

Old Man Zhao turned it over in his mind; he couldn't say what the best course of action was. After all, they had never faced the refugees head-on and didn’t know just how formidable they were. But one thing was certain: they were the ones scheming against the refugees now. They were in the shadows, while the refugees were in the open. They could set traps in advance—that was their only advantage.

Yet, what they could do was quite limited—at most, dig a pit and bury some wooden stakes.

The refugees weren’t fools either; they might not fall for the bait and stumble into the pit. Just the fact that they hadn’t swarmed into the mountains to capture them showed they weren’t a bunch of mindless idiots. Everyone knew the mountains were vast. If they simply dug a pit or set a trap on the path, even if a hundred refugees came, they’d all be taken down by the locals who knew the land like the back of their hand.

Thinking the enemy was too foolish usually meant you’d be the one to suffer.

“I think it’s better for us to stick together,” Li Dahe said, scratching his foot as he thought it over. “If smoke suddenly rises from several places in the mountains, I’m afraid they’ll get suspicious. No one dared light a fire these past few days, but today there’s fire everywhere—that looks way too suspicious. Since our plan is to catch one batch first and then another, splitting up doesn’t make much sense. We just need to wait for them to come and then attack together. I don’t believe they’ll all come up the mountain. As long as there are fewer of them than us, we’ll have the upper hand no matter what.”

What they were betting on was that the refugees, having tasted success, wouldn’t expect the villagers—who had been as timid as mice—to dare gather in the mountains and plot how to ambush and kill them.

Though it sounded a bit immoral, Zhao Youcai and his family had died at just the right time. Their foolish actions had perfectly misled the refugees, making them think the farmers in these remote hills were spineless cowards. The more the refugees looked down on them, the greater their chances of success.

“I agree with Uncle Da He’s idea. Let’s just swarm them and finish them off,” Zhao Sanwang was the first to voice his support.

“I agree too,” Zhao Song and Zhao Bai, the brothers, nodded in unison.

Zhao Daniu and his brothers, along with the Wu brothers, hurriedly nodded as well. They didn’t have strong opinions of their own and basically agreed with whatever everyone else said.

So it was decided.

Next, they discussed where to light the fire—a place that wouldn’t arouse the refugees’ suspicion yet seemed reasonable. Out of respect for the three leaders who had some sense, they thought it over and decided to sacrifice Er Lai’s family.

Well, more accurately, sacrifice the location of Er Lai’s house.

The reason was simple: Zhao Youcai’s wife, who had been captured and taken down the mountain, knew where Er Lai’s house was.

They didn’t want to think too much about what happened to women captured by the refugees, but the outcome was clear. The refugees were vicious, and under torture, she might reveal Er Lai’s location in exchange for a moment of peace. Zhao Sanwang, who often quarreled with the village women, believed Zhao Youcai’s wife was capable of doing just that.

Her family had even eaten their own dog—what wouldn’t they do?

“Quan Zi, your place isn’t very safe either,” Li Dahe said after some thought. “Have your wife and son, along with Yong Zi’s family, all move to the graveyard. Our spot is truly safe. Even if the refugees see freshly turned soil, they’ll just think someone in the village recently died. They won’t be so shameless as to dig up graves.”

“Alright,” Zhao Quan thought of his timid wife and could only nod helplessly. His cellar was too close to Er Lai’s house. It was better to move farther away to avoid getting caught up in the trouble.

The sun was up by now. They had hardly slept last night, so to conserve their energy, the women and children would handle digging traps and sharpening wooden stakes. The women might not be as strong, but they could chop trees and sharpen the stakes until they were sharp enough to draw blood. This wasn’t too difficult—they were country women used to hard work, and a simple hatchet was enough to get the job done.

Fueled by their hatred for the refugees, they not only sharpened the stakes to deadly points but also smeared them with excrement, ensuring that even if someone didn’t die immediately, they’d perish soon after.

During the earlier discussion, Old Man Zhao and the others had already hardened their hearts. It wasn’t about “catching a batch” but “killing a batch.” They and the refugees were already locked in a fight to the death, so they couldn’t afford to be soft-hearted. They had to strike lethally to prevent any chance of resurgence.

Since someone had to die, it might as well be those murderous refugee bandits.

The men slept soundly and ate a hearty meal.

Around noon, Er Lai’s cellar was almost completely hollowed out. It was filled with stakes smeared with feces, while the top was covered with woven branches, vines, scattered leaves, and pine needles as camouflage. At first glance, there was no sign of a trap. But if anyone accidentally stepped on it, they’d immediately fall into the cellar. Given the height from the ground to the cellar, unless some divine being intervened, they’d be impaled through and through.

Zhao Xiaowu carried his little aunt on his back, taking three steps forward and looking back twice as he slowly left the area.

He didn’t want to go; he wanted to stay and fight the refugees. But his grandfather’s words stopped him: “If your father and I both die, your grandmother, mother, and aunt will have to rely on you.”

“Dad, Big Brother, Second Brother, Third Brother, I’ll go home and stew pig trotters for you. You have to come back quickly to eat,” Zhao Xiaobao knew her father and the others were going to fight the refugees. She couldn’t stay and get in the way, but she was truly worried about them. With tears in her eyes, she waved her little hand repeatedly.

She had already made up her mind: as soon as she got back, she’d ask her mother to stew two pig trotters so her father and the others could have meat when they returned.

No need to worry about the smell attracting refugees anymore. Her father said they’d stop all the bad guys from entering the mountains.

…

Once again, smoke rose from the mountains, in roughly the same spot as yesterday.

The afternoon sun was scorching. These past few days, their lives had been wonderfully comfortable—slaughtering pigs and chickens every day, eating rice with every meal, feasting on chicken, duck, and pork until they couldn’t eat anymore. After eating, they’d sleep with other men’s wives, wake up, and eat again. This heavenly life was even more carefree than before they became refugees!

They had searched over thirty households in the village and found over a thousand catties of grain. They also dug out over twenty taels of silver from under bed boards, in wall cracks, beneath toilet planks, and hidden in clothing linings. There were also eight pigs in the pens, dozens of chickens in the coops, and dozens of ducks…

Most of the villagers they caught were those who kept livestock and couldn’t bear to leave their animals behind, so they ran slowly. As soon as the refugees entered the village, they captured everyone. Those who obeyed and didn’t resist were thrown into pigpens, while those who resisted were tossed into latrines.

The people in this village were even more cowardly than they had imagined. They had expected some resistance when entering the village, like in the last village where a group of men fought them desperately with kitchen knives and axes, costing them over a dozen brothers. Although they ended up slaughtering half the village, stealing all their grain and women, and killing all the children, they still couldn’t swallow their anger.

They had originally planned to vent their anger here, but the people in this village were unbelievably cowardly!

Having grown accustomed to killing and facing resistance, encountering such a bunch of cowards made their pent-up anger even harder to bear. They had initially planned to take the grain and women and leave, but Third Brother suggested staying in the village and waiting for the villagers to walk into their trap. Seeing as the crops in the fields were about to ripen, why not stay a while longer? They didn’t believe those burrowing rabbits could just watch as their harvest was taken.

Killing was as simple as chopping off a head—no fun at all. Third Brother was clever, playing this game of waiting for the rabbits to come to them. It was both entertaining and a way to lure the rabbits out to vent their anger. Once they caught those free laborers who delivered themselves, they’d make them harvest the rice in the fields while they slept with their wives and ate the rice they had grown. Ha ha ha ha, now that was truly a heavenly life!

“Big Brother, I found another rabbit hole,” a man with a black spot on his chin suddenly rushed into the room.

Inside, a burly man in his thirties was tearing into a stewed chicken with big bites. Across from him sat a slightly younger man, whose left hand holding the chicken leg had only four fingers. The two brothers were eating with greasy mouths.

Hearing this, the burly man referred to as Big Brother grinned. A fierce scar ran down his left cheek, making him look like a demon crawled out of the underworld. “We dug one out yesterday, and another shows up today. Seems the rabbits in the mountains are too hungry to hide.”

“Second Brother went into the mountains to catch rabbits yesterday. Today, it’s my turn,” the man with the severed finger casually tossed the chicken bone in his hand to the ground, stood up, and grabbed the large knife beside him. He then glanced back at his big brother, his triangular eyes narrowing like a venomous snake. “Big Brother, you don’t have any objections, do you?”

The man with the scar threw the half-eaten chicken in his hand at him. The man with the severed finger caught it, took a big bite of the meat, and laughed loudly as he went outside to gather men.

“Baldie, round up a dozen brothers. We’re going into the mountains to catch rabbits!”