Chapter 56

Chapter 56

The rain gradually slackened, while flames shot skyward.

The commotion at the foot of the mountain was too great, waking everyone hiding in the hills. Countless people stirred, braving the downpour to push aside branches and gaze toward the village. Having lived here for generations, they could immediately recognize that the fire was at the village chief's house.

Even the dullest person knew that if refugees entered the village, they would be sure to stay at the village chief's home—his house was built on a grand scale. Given the choice, they wouldn't want to stay in drafty thatched huts either. Now, with such a conflagration raging there, had the refugees left? Had they set the fire before departing?

In the pitch-black night, countless people stood on the hillsides, sheltered by dense forests. A mass of tiny black dots, like ants crawling from their anthill, silently watched the scene below.

Some prayed silently, hoping the refugees would burn the village chief's house and leave quickly, pleading they wouldn't be so heartless as to burn their own homes too. Especially the households closest to the chief's house—they slapped their thighs, wailing and cursing, terrified of being caught in the blaze. In their fear, they even resented their ancestors. The village was so large; why on earth did they have to build their houses right next to the chief's? They got no special favors in ordinary times, but now in disaster, they were being dragged down!

Now it was fine for their ancestors, having kicked the bucket and lying snug in their coffins, but they were causing their descendants to hide in the mountains, trembling with fear that their old homes might be burned!

"Goddamn those refugees! If you dare burn my house, I'll go down right now and fight you to the death!!" Granny Zhou Chunmiao hugged her eldest grandson and wailed, her cries unfortunately heard by the Wang Tiegen family above.

Wang Tiegen's wife curled her lip. When they were digging the cellar, their two families had chosen the same spot—that flat area below. That old hag from the Zhou family had thrown a tantrum, rolling on the ground, insisting she had chosen it first and muscling her way to it. If her old man hadn't said that spot was good but prone to waterlogging during rain, she wouldn't have let it go so easily.

Sure enough, as soon as the rain started, she heard bitching and moaning from below about water flowing into the cellar. The whole family was scrambling to avoid the rain and move their grain and clothes, which gave her a good laugh.

Just as she was thinking this, the sound of several people hurrying came from another direction.

"Tiegen, something's not right down there. Should we discuss sending someone down to check the situation?"

Quite a few people arrived, led by three old men—the clan elders of the Zhao, Li, and Zhou families. Supported by their sons and grandsons, they had hurried along the slippery, muddy mountain path. In the village, those called Clan Elders were the oldest and most respected members of their respective families.

Zhao Shanao, the Zhao family elder; Zhou Fugui, the Zhou family elder; Li Laiyin, the Li family elder; and Wang Tiegen, the Wang family elder. Zhao Shanao was the first to notice something was wrong. These old coots belonged to the same generation. Though they had quarreled and fought in their youth, they had grown closer with age, maintaining frequent contact. The locations they chose for their cellars were also not far apart.

Wang Tiegen hurried to greet them. At their age, a fall could mean a funeral feast, so his son anxiously supported him.

The old men huddled together, their heads together, talking nonstop.

Even while in the mountains, they kept a close watch on the situation below. The moment the fire broke out, the young men in their families had noticed. At first, Zhao Shanao also thought the refugees had left, setting fire before going—those motherless bastards. But as soon as this thought arose, he realized something was off. Impossible! Were the refugees' brains clogged with cesspit filth? What are they leaving for in this pissing rain? Were they being chased by dogs?

They had lingered after looting, clearly coveting the crops in the fields. They were playing a waiting game with the villagers hiding in the mountains, seeing who would crack first. Their little schemes were crystal clear to these old-timers.

But even though they understood, they had no solution. They had considered charging down the mountain, but whenever this was mentioned, everyone turtled up in fear. Who dared to fight the refugees?

No one dared, so they could only wait. So they waited, and what do you know, a fire starts down below.

Zhao Shanao was initially pleased. Let it burn! It was just those unfilial sons' houses anyway. Once burned, the refugees should leave quickly. But his joy didn't last long. He calmed down, growing more and more uneasy. The more he thought about it, the more inexplicable the fire seemed. Coupled with his worries these past few days about the old houses and farmland below, he couldn't sit still. He called his son and went to find Li Laiyin, who lived closest to him.

Coincidentally, Li Laiyin was also worried about his clansmen below. Unlike Zhao Shanao, this old man still hadn't located Zhao Dagen's family's hiding spot. In some ways, the Li family was even more united than the Zhao family. When digging cellars, each household had privately communicated their locations. Li Laiyin knew almost all his clansmen's hiding places.

During the village's frantic escape, no one had time to care for others. Later, after settling in the mountains, he had his sons check on each household. The results nearly made him faint—three or four households were completely empty, and a few others had only one or two escapees!

So many of their Li family members hadn't gotten away. Li Laiyin could hardly bear to imagine it!

These past few days, he had been tormented, worrying about the old houses and crops, and also about the clansmen captured by the refugees. Regardless of their usual relationships or whether they got along, they all shared the same ancestors. They were all relatives. Those surnamed Li always stuck together in daily life. He had prayed to every god, hoping the clansmen below would be safe.

When Zhao Shanao came looking for him, he immediately agreed and called Zhou Fugui, with whom he had the best relationship. The three old men braved the heavy rain, risking fatal falls, to seek out Wang Tiegen.

This time, apart from the Li family, only the Zhou family and a few other minor surnames hadn't escaped. The Wang and Zhao families had been the cleverest; no one had heard of any of their members being captured.

Of course, it was possible that some, like the old Zhao family, had never been contacted from start to finish. But compared to the Li family, the Zhao, Zhou, and Wang families had clearly been much luckier.

Thus, upon discovering the massive fire below that even the heavy rain couldn't extinguish, apart from the vigilant Zhao Shanao, Li Laiyin was the most anxious. He said, "Let's call a few sharp men to go down and check the situation. It's dark now, so they won't be easily spotted by the refugees. They're familiar with the village and mountain paths. As long as they don't confront the refugees directly, nothing should happen."

"If the refugees have really left, we can go down immediately to fight the fire. If they're setting fires house by house, we can't just watch from the mountains. No family is wealthy; building houses after the earthquake earlier this year emptied our savings. Are we supposed to build again mid-year? We have no money!" Li Laiyin slapped his thigh. He spoke the truth. Who could withstand this? Did they think building a house was a trivial matter? Without earthquakes or refugees, an old house could last three generations. At their age, with one foot in the grave, going through this repeatedly was truly unbearable.

Fortunately, it was raining heavily now. Even if the refugees wanted to burn the crops in the fields, it wouldn't be easy. But when people turn wicked, they always find a way. They couldn't let their guard down.

"Old Li makes sense. We won't do anything drastic, just sneak down to check the situation. It's best if the refugees have left. Even if they haven't, we can try to rescue those who didn't escape. Every life saved counts." Zhou Fugui pondered. The rain and night provided perfect cover—the rain would mask their footsteps. Even if they left footprints, the heavy rain would wash them away. If the refugees hadn't left, they wouldn't be able to track them. Their biggest advantage over the refugees was their familiarity with the terrain. If discovered, they could simply drop into a field ridge and hide.

Most importantly, among those who hadn't escaped was his own nephew's family. His second brother had died early, leaving only this one son. He had always looked out for him in every way. But during the scramble for shelters after the earthquake earlier this year, he had momentarily neglected his nephew's family. Since then, his nephew had grown distant. He had repeatedly warned him not to raise pigs, but his nephew hadn't listened, pooling money with the Li family to buy piglets from Zhou Village. He suspected his nephew's family hadn't escaped because they couldn't bear to leave the pigs in the pen.

Thus, besides Li Laiyin, he was the second to actively support sending people down to investigate.

Zhao Shanao and Wang Tiegen were more concerned about the houses and farmland. As for the captured villagers, they felt little, since their own clansmen had escaped. But outwardly, they nodded in agreement. "We're all old neighbors. It's hard to see anyone come to harm. If we can help, we should lend a hand. We can't just watch them die."

Li Laiyin and Zhou Fugui nodded repeatedly. "That's right. Every family is connected by kinship. They're all our own people. We must save them, we must."

Once agreed, they began discussing who would go down. Going down to scout and potentially rescue captured villagers certainly involved risk. They couldn't assign the task to just one family—no one would agree to that.

The chosen individuals needed to be brave, careful, and capable of handling pressure. Ideally, there should be a clever leader whom everyone would obey to command the group. Otherwise, in an emergency, everyone would have their own ideas, and the group would be scattered sand, achieving nothing.

After much thought, only the old Zhao family members from below met the criteria.

"Shanao, this concerns the whole village. Now's not the time to hold back. We understand Dagen didn't want to be village chief—he's never been one for gossip. But the situation is different now. We can't afford to lose our houses and crops, and there are captured villagers. Even if they're not our own relatives, we grew up together. We can't just stand by and do nothing." Li Laiyin spoke earnestly. "We're not asking the men going down to confront the refugees. They're just to check the situation. In our village's current generation, only Dashan and his brothers have proven capable, able to handle things. No family can stand idly by now."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Shanao's previously anxious expression immediately changed. "Li Laiyin, what do you mean by that? Are you saying I, Zhao Shanao, am lying to you? I said I don't know where Dagen's cellar is, and I don't know! Have you not eaten for days, so the stuff in your guts isn't going down but coming up? Why are you speaking so sarcastically and nastily, as if our Zhao family is unwilling to contribute people?"

"You—how dare you speak like that? That's not what I meant. I just think we all need to be united now. Dagen's family is capable. With them leading, nothing will go wrong. I'm only thinking of everyone's good." Li Laiyin, pointed at and scolded, felt his old face couldn't take it and pointed back, shouting, "I just said it casually. Why are you reacting like this? Did I hit a nerve? Has Zhao Dagen become so successful he looks down on villagers, avoiding us in everything as if afraid we'll cling to his family? He scorns being village chief, digs a cellar in secret. What? Does his family have something to hide…"

Before he could finish, his arm was struck by Zhao Shanao's furious cane swing. "To hell with you, you old bastard Li! Don't judge my Zhao family with your asshole-sized mind! If not for Dagen, you'd probably have been killed by refugees before even reaching the mountains, you ungrateful wretch! I'll beat you to death!!"

Rain poured down as the two gap-toothed old men fought—one attacking, the other dodging—while those around them fretted helplessly.

Zhao Shanao's son and Li Laiyin's son also grew heated, seeming on the verge of internal conflict. Zhou Fugui and Wang Tiegen hurried forward, each pulling one back.

"Enough, enough, both of you say less. Old Li, you too, what nonsense are you spouting? Shanao and Dagen aren't that kind of people. Don't speak such petty words." Zhou Fugui played peacemaker, though inwardly he also preferred Zhao Dashan and his brothers to lead the group down. But they knew Old Zhao wasn't lying—he truly didn't know where the old Zhao family was hiding. Old Li was just panicked and confused from worrying about his clansmen below.

They pulled the two old men apart. Their respective sons protected their fathers. The Li and Zhao family members stood in two separate groups, the atmosphere tense.

Meanwhile, more and more people arrived through the rain—villagers who had noticed the commotion below and couldn't sit still.

Apart from a few minor surnames scattered about, when members of the four major families arrived, they wordlessly stood behind their own clan elders. They feared refugees, but not fellow villagers. In fights or arguments, they had to support their own.

By the time the fire below had slightly subsided, the candidates for the mission had been decided after much argument.

Each of the four families would contribute two people; the other families would each contribute one. Even this was forced after endless quarrels—first the village elders argued, then each family argued. No one wanted to be in the first group going down, but the minority couldn't override the majority. Finally, the candidates were settled.

As a dozen figures stealthily descended the mountain, Zhao Dashan swung his blade at Scarface's neck, nearly severing his head, leaving it hanging by a thin layer of skin.

Simultaneously, Scarface's dying strike hacked fiercely into Zhao Dashan's shoulder. He had aimed for the neck, but Zhao Dashan reacted quickly, shifting a few inches. Still, he couldn't avoid it completely. The sharp blade cut into his shoulder, slicing off a chunk of flesh and even exposing the shoulder blade. Blood gushed out. Zhao Dashan's face instantly paled, and he could no longer hold his blade.

"Dashan!" Er Lai's father screamed, his voice breaking, as he rushed over to support him.

Seizing the opportunity, Zhao Quan swung his hoe and struck down Hei Ban, who was vomiting, retching, and occasionally clutching his stomach, howling in pain. As Hei Ban fell, Zhao Quan rushed over and struck his head several times. Hei Ban writhed in agony on the ground, wildly swinging the large blade he tightly gripped, but to no avail. Zhao Quan and Zhao Sanwang, who had climbed over the wall, worked together to beat him to death with their hoes.

"Damn, that was tough." Zhao Quan kicked the large blade away to prevent any post-death injury. For extra safety, he picked up the blade and, imitating Zhao Dashan, severed Hei Ban's head.

In the quiet courtyard, only rapid breathing and the muddy, blood-soaked ground remained.

It was at this moment that Old Man Zhao and the others kicked open the gate and charged in. Emerging almost simultaneously was Widow Li, covered in blood. Her hand holding the kitchen knife trembled violently. She had just reached the courtyard when she collapsed, sitting heavily on the ground.

Everyone was startled by her appearance.

"Heh... I... I killed them all." Widow Li trembled violently. The blood on her face was slowly washed clean by the rain, and the lightning flashing across the sky illuminated her face, deathly pale. She threw away the kitchen knife in her hand and looked at Old Man Zhao, her expression caught between a sob and a laugh. "Uncle... Uncle Zhao, they wanted to drag me to the pond to drown me. I didn't want to die, so I killed them all."

Her lips trembled fiercely, but the words she spoke were even more chilling than the rain pouring down on her.

A bad feeling settled in Old Man Zhao's gut. Together with Zhao Quan and the others, paying no mind to Widow Li, now slumped in the yard, they rushed straight towards the pigsty she had emerged from.

As soon as they entered, the sight that met their eyes made even Old Man Zhao's blood run cold. Thirty or forty people, all once so familiar, now lay limp like discarded rags in the foul-smelling pigsty. Each of their necks bore a deep gash that reached the bone, just like when slaughtering a chicken—a single slash across the major artery. The coppery stench of blood filled the air.

Old Man Zhao didn't have night blindness. His eyesight was good. He could even see that Old Man Li's neck had received special attention, hacked at like a pile of firewood with uneven, pitted cuts, blood gushing out in streams, a miserable death.

His gaze swept quickly over each face, trying to find a single survivor. But clearly, the one who had done this had been extremely decisive. As far as he could see, there were no survivors.

"..."

His legs felt like they were filled with lead. It took Old Man Zhao immense effort to walk out of the pigsty. Suppressing the nausea rising in his throat, he walked step by step, extremely slowly, until he stood before Widow Li.

"Child, what... what happened?" He opened his mouth, and it took him a long while to force out this single sentence of concern.

Yes, concern. The fact that they could come down the mountain tonight and coordinate with Widow Li meant they had already considered her part of their group. Not just him, even Li Dahe and the others had agreed. After hearing Zhao Quan's retelling, both old men felt they couldn't underestimate women in the future. While limited by physique and strength, they might not be able to fight as well as men, but if they were weak in one area, they made up for it in another—their minds were much more agile.

Moreover, they understood Widow Li. Although the village women liked to gossip about her, as men, wouldn't they know if a widow had been making eyes at them? Even when passing face-to-face in the village, she always kept her head down and walked around them. Where was the seduction the village women talked about? She never asked the village men to help chop firewood, nor begged them to plow fields or transplant seedlings. A woman with two young sons, she got up before dawn to work, honest and diligent—a truly good woman, hard to come by.

So when Zhao Quan mentioned it, everyone immediately nodded in agreement.

Widow Li stared at him blankly for a moment, then tears suddenly streamed down her face. She couldn't hold back anymore and broke down, sobbing into the mud.

She was wronged. Her heart was so bitter. All these years of endless suffering, yet there was no one she could tell. Her own family was unreliable, her husband's family was gone, her two sons were young. She had no one to confide in. She thought Uncle Zhao would scold her, would kill her. She had imagined all the worst outcomes, but never had she expected to hear such words.

Her own father had never called her "child." It had been so long since she had felt what it felt like to have someone care.

Was this what it felt like to be cared for? It made you want to cry?

Kneeling before Old Man Zhao, she sobbed so hard her entire frame shuddered, even her fingers spasming. She cried until her voice was hoarse and her face was covered in tears, until a sharp pain twisted in her stomach and a wave of dizziness washed over her.

Propping herself up on her arms, she raised her head, her eyes red, and looked up at Old Man Zhao. Through her tears, she recounted everything that had happened in the village these past few days from beginning to end.

Even though they had been mentally prepared, everyone was still profoundly shaken by her story.

"The villagers who were killed were thrown into the latrine pit. It was probably almost full."

"The ones still alive were treated like pigs and dogs. Men and women alike had to serve the refugees. I was chosen by Scarface... Heh heh, I didn't want to die, so I didn't resist. So I became the 'slut who willingly sold herself' in their mouths. They all bullied me, beat my sons, stole our food, and said they'd drag me to the pond to drown me once the refugees left."

"I didn't wrong anyone. They were the ones who forced me, who bullied us, a widow and her orphans." Widow Li, who had been kneeling, couldn't bear the pain in her stomach anymore. She collapsed completely onto the ground, curling up in the muddy mix of rainwater and blood. "If they lived, I would die."

"I wanted to live. I wanted to live. My two children are still so young..."

She murmured to herself, the pain making her mind foggy, repeating these two sentences over and over.

Old Man Zhao opened his mouth, looking at the young woman lying prostrate on the ground, momentarily unable to speak.

"Dad, people are coming down from the mountain." Zhao Sandi suddenly ran in from outside.

Old Man Zhao snapped his head towards the direction of the forest. He took a deep breath, glanced at Li Dahe beside him, then turned and barked at Zhao Quan and the others, who were still stunned and unable to process the fact that "Widow Li had wiped out all the surviving villagers": "Go! Throw all the usable firewood around here into the pigsty! Now!"

"Ah? Oh, oh!" Zhao Quan and Zhao Sanwang exchanged a look, understood Old Man Zhao's meaning, and immediately ran to gather firewood.

"They were killed by the refugees." Old Man Zhao looked at everyone, enunciating each word clearly. "And they can only have been killed by the refugees."

Li Dahe paused for a moment, then nodded gently.

Truth be told, he was also from the Li family. Among the dead in the pigsty were also his clansmen. But matters have their priorities, and people have their closeness and distance. Not all blood relatives in this world can be called family. Li Dahe had suffered greatly from so-called family affection in his early years. Back when his brother had his accident, the clan had turned a blind eye, leaving his sister-in-law and niece to struggle for survival.

His niece was Zhao Song's wife. Over the years, he hadn't interacted much with his own clan, but had grown close to the Zhao family.

Now that their little band was formed, all with blood on their hands, their relationship was already different from before. Since Zhao Dagen wanted to protect Widow Li, he naturally wouldn't stand up to oppose it.

Everyone was fighting for their lives. Those lying in the pigsty simply hadn't fought as well as Widow Li.

No one was to blame.

...

A short while later.

A roaring inferno consumed the village chief's pigsty, as if even the heavens were making way for it, as the torrential rain abruptly ceased.

Amidst billowing smoke, a group of people stumbled into the village.

Old Man Zhao led a group out of the village chief's house. Behind him were Zhao Ertian, carrying Zhao Dashan on his back, and Li Dahe, carrying Widow Li on his back.

Following them stood Zhao Sandi, Zhao Bai, Zhao Sanwang, Zhao Quan, Zhao Yong, Zhao Daniu, Zhao Erniu, Wu Dazhu, Wu Sanzhu, Li Mancang, Li Manliang...

Behind them was the soaring blaze. Each of them held a knife or carried an axe.

"The refugees have been killed by us. Every last one."

"All the villagers unfortunately perished. We only managed to save Widow Li."

"You can go home now."