Chapter 79

Chapter 79

"Seeing ghosts in every shadow," another constable curled his lip and snorted coldly, calling out to the colleagues who had stopped ahead. "Let's go, keep moving. That Qi Dalang is at it again with his old habits. Don't pay him any mind."

"Those up front, don't stop! Nothing's wrong, keep moving!" The guards at the front, hearing it was Qi Dalang causing trouble and knowing his skittish and peculiar nature, glanced at the tall man standing before the thicket and called out to him, deliberately asking, "Qi Dalang, is there anything amiss?"

Qi Dalang raised his torch, his hawk-like eyes scanning the surroundings. His night vision was notorious among his colleagues for its sharpness. Before him were only trees and thickets of wild grass taller than a man's waist. The occasional rustle was just the usual critters—snakes, insects, rats, or ants. Not a soul was in sight, not even a ghostly shadow.

Yet, for some reason, a nagging feeling of unease clung to him.

It was as if someone, or some beast, should have been here.

"Nothing," he replied earnestly, missing the jab. He raised his torch and paced back and forth several times, even took a turn through the woods. He truly couldn't see anything amiss. The man who had spoken earlier was growing impatient, having urged him several times. Seeing him still dawdling and circling about, the man simply ignored him. After all, they were teamed up on one cart; if Qi Dalang wanted to waste time, it was his partner who'd be delayed.

The procession moved on.

As Qi Dalang took too long to return, his cart-mate grew annoyed, his tone sharpening. "When you get back, have your wife prepare more pig guts for you. I think your eyes are going. In our line of work, we rely on these eyes day and night." It was a roundabout way of calling him blind. From this distance, the partner could see perfectly well whether anyone was in the woods, but Qi Dalang had to be contrary, wasting time peering left and right.

Qi Dalang raised his torch to illuminate the thicket he had hacked through at waist height, sweeping his gaze over the fallen leaves on the ground. Just as he was about to stretch out his foot to poke around, his colleague's pointed remarks, both veiled and direct, hit home. Remembering he still needed to hurry back to relieve the other watch, he had no choice but to turn back.

The sound of cartwheels gradually faded into the distance. A mountain breeze blew, swirling up the fallen leaves on the ground and revealing a depression where someone had been sitting.

Late into the night.

Old Man Zhao, who had hidden in the Divine Land for two hours, reappeared at the spot holding his daughter. No sooner had his feet touched ground than he swiftly turned his head to survey the surroundings. No one. Safe. Only then did his tense body gradually relax.

Just as he was about to catch his breath, he looked down and saw a thick layer of fallen leaves beneath his feet. The breath he hadn't yet fully exhaled was sucked right back in. But before he could ponder it further, the familiar sound of cartwheels rang out again.

Old Man Zhao quickly glanced at the sky, roughly estimating the time. Recalling what the previous group had said, he figured this must be the 'changing of the guard' they'd talked about. This convoy was likely the team led by that Lao Jiu or whoever.

The existence of a granary in Tongjiang Town was merely his speculation. Over all these years, he'd never heard anyone mention it, which made it clear the common folk were in the dark. This matter was of great importance; probably only officials were aware. Old Man Zhao had specifically observed the first grain transport team earlier. Those escorting the grain weren't porters; they were all constables in government uniforms, proper authorities.

Apart from the first four carts being donkey-drawn, the rest were flatbed carts escorted by pairs of men. Old Man Zhao didn't know if it was because donkeys were in short supply or what, but those behind were putting their backs into it too.

This convoy was the same. The first four carts were donkey-drawn, the rest were man-powered—one man pushing the cart, another holding a torch beside to assist, probably taking turns to rest. However, the flatbed carts and wheels were different from those used by commoners. The grain was stacked high, but the pushers didn't seem to be exerting much effort, as if each were a Hercules capable of carrying eight hundred catties.

If one person was like that, it might be coincidence. But if everyone was, then the issue lay with the wheels.

Old Man Zhao, holding his daughter, hid in another thicket. Watching the grain transport team on the main road, a look of envy surfaced in his old eyes. Although the men in his family were each strong as oxen, and carts were useless in their remote mountain hollow, he couldn't help but covet the tools others had.

Even the carts were different from what commoners used. Being an official is good, ah. Sigh.

This time, without Qi Dalang, no one discovered the father-daughter pair hiding with pent-up energy in the woods. The grain escort team didn't stop for a moment.

Once the people were far away, Old Man Zhao quietly followed with his daughter in his arms. Under cover of darkness, he trailed far behind, just like how Li Laiyin and the others had trailed behind the villagers' procession, unnoticed by anyone.

The cart convoy headed towards Qinghe Town. After walking for about as long as it takes a stick of incense to burn, the donkey carts at the front suddenly turned onto a small path.

Old Man Zhao had never been in that direction. Standing at the fork in the road, he hesitated. Continuing straight on the main road led to Qinghe Town. So, was the granary location between Tongjiang Town and Qinghe Town?

"Dad?" His sudden stop immediately roused Zhao Xiaobao, who had been unconsciously licking a piece of malt candy half-asleep. Instinctively, she was about to take her father into the wooden hut.

"It's alright, Xiaobao, go back to sleep," Old Man Zhao whispered. After a moment's hesitation, he still followed the path. "If Dad says 'enter the hut,' Xiaobao must take Dad in immediately, just like before. We need to hide."

"Okay," Zhao Xiaobao replied, yawning widely from exhaustion.

With his daughter by his side, Old Man Zhao, though somewhat nervous, managed to stay relatively calm. Earlier, he had indeed been startled. He never expected there to be such a capable person among the officers, someone who could sense people hiding in the woods just by intuition! Heaven knows, that small stone had been kicked up by a cartwheel. The father and daughter had been as still as could be, not daring to make a single sound.

Fortunately, they had Xiaobao's divine power; they hid quickly, or they would have been caught red-handed.

One must never underestimate anyone, Old Man Zhao thought with a tremor of fear. The outside world is vast, and there are many capable people. One must act with utmost care and caution, again and again.

Never be careless, or with one misstep, you'd truly fall into a pit.

After walking another half-hour, the convoy stopped before a perimeter wall.

It was too far for Old Man Zhao to see clearly. He could only vaguely make out an exterior wall that resembled a wealthy family's estate, yet was somewhat different. The place was brightly lit, donkey carts and flatbed carts jostling together. The heavy main gate was wide open. The escorting constables, along with two gatekeepers, were unloading the cargo. Everyone was busy but orderly, carrying sack after sack of grain inside the gate. As for what scene lay inside, how many people were there, Old Man Zhao truly couldn't see.

Such a large wall, covering an area twice the size of the Yu family's place. Who knew how much grain was stored inside.

Old Man Zhao hid behind a low hillside. Watching them unload grain wasn't particularly interesting, so he began surveying the surrounding terrain.

Along the way, he hadn't seen any villages, only a single small path leading here, just wide enough for a donkey cart. There were no farmlands around, nor any houses, only gentle slopes and wild, desolate hills. The terrain on the way here wasn't exactly flat, but the area before him was a level plain. Under the glow of the torches, he could faintly discern the shape of mountains behind the granary.

Built against the mountains.

Facing this direction, Old Man Zhao couldn't help but start planning an escape route in his mind. This place was between Tongjiang Town and Qingping Town. Tongjiang Town lay to the south, Qinghe Town to the east, while the granary backed against the northwest direction. The mountains are all connected, as they say. Qingzhou Prefecture was originally rich in mountains and forests, especially in the northwest. If the mountain behind their village could connect to neighboring towns or even prefectures, the mountains in the northwest were part of the genuine ancient forest range, its extent unknown. Entering there meant certain death.

And Wanxia Village and this place were in completely opposite directions, not even sharing the same mountain range.

Secure.

Old Man Zhao secretly clenched his fist. This place truly had no connection whatsoever to them. Even if they racked their brains, they'd never suspect them. His old eyes gleamed brightly. His calloused fingers dug into the clods of earth beneath him as he stared unblinkingly at the direction of the granary.

He wasn't worried about being discovered. The county must have taken precautions when building the granary here, just like how their village dug cellars—not only to guard against refugees but also against fellow villagers. It was even more so for a granary. If everyone knew the granary's location, thieves would surely sneak over every few days. Even if the guards weren't afraid of petty thieves, the nuisance alone would be maddening.

Therefore, within a radius of several dozen *li*, there were certainly no villages.

They might have even spread some eerie rumors. Village elders often tricked children this way—forbidding them from entering the mountains, saying there were wolves and tigers that would eat people; forbidding them from swimming in the river, saying there were big fish that would drag people down to drown... Old Man Zhao thought he should inquire later if there were any supernatural tales about man-eating demons or terrifying ghosts in this area.

Zhao Xiaobao had been sleeping groggily. The malt candy she tightly clutched in her hand had melted, making her little hand sticky. When Old Man Zhao woke her, she even slurped back some drool—it was so sweet.

"Dad, Xiaobao wasn't sleeping."

Old Man Zhao gently covered her mouth, holding her as he lowered his body. Father and daughter practically pressed themselves against the back of the hillock. Half of their faces were illuminated by the distant torchlight. The familiar sound of cartwheels rang out again. The second batch of constables, having unloaded the goods, began returning to town.

Surprisingly, they didn't retrace their original path but took another road.

Old Man Zhao's heart hammered against his ribs. He even lightened his breathing, his eyes fixed intently on the departing donkey carts and constables. He confirmed the headcount going out matched the one coming in; not a single guard stayed behind.

Zhao Xiaobao was fully awake now. Her big eyes darted around, watching the departing donkey carts. She couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. Donkeys, ah. Xiaobao wanted one too.

The father-daughter pair: one envied the government's flatbed carts, wondering what made them tick, how they seemed to use leverage so well—he really wanted one. The other envied the donkeys pulling the carts—so grand, so impressive. Their village didn't even have a donkey, let alone an ox. The only four-legged livestock were dogs. And dogs were different from chickens and ducks. Chickens and ducks were livestock, raised to be eaten. Dogs were different; they guarded the home. Raised long enough, the bond grew deep, hardly different from family.

Families like Zhao Youcai's, who ate dog meat, were in the minority after all. Dogs were intelligent; before dying, they would often run into the mountains themselves. By the time they were found, their bodies might already be stiff.

Forget eating them; being able to hold back tears was an achievement.

Watching the convoy disappear from view, even the moonlight had vanished unnoticed at some point. The surroundings were pitch black, the sound of the wind clearly audible. Old Man Zhao slowly moved his hand away from covering his daughter's mouth.

"Dad, Xiaobao wants to raise oxen and donkeys," Zhao Xiaobao whispered softly.

After hiding a while longer, Old Man Zhao finally stood up with his daughter in his arms. He glanced at the granary's main gate, then took a detour to another direction. "Xiaobao dares to dream bigger than your dad. When your dad was young, the most he dreamed of was raising an ox. You're not satisfied with just an ox; you're even coveting donkeys."

He chuckled happily, watching his step as he walked, careful to avoid pits. "Oxen are expensive. One costs over ten taels of silver, and you might not even get one. Our village is too remote. The good oxen at the cattle market are picked by those who get the news first. The mountain path back to the village is steep; the slightest misstep could send you tumbling down the slope. If a person falls, they can get up. But if an ox falls, what then? It won't listen to commands and can't climb slopes!"

"Donkeys are a bit cheaper than oxen. With good luck, eight or nine taels might get you one. But what would our family use a donkey for? Your three older brothers could work like draft animals. When Xiao Wu and the others grow up, that'll be five more 'donkeys.' Even for hauling goods, there'd be no role for a donkey; they can do it all."

"Then Xiaobao wants an ox," Zhao Xiaobao humphed. "Oxen can plow fields. Xiaobao will put it in the Divine Land to clear and cultivate the wasteland."

Old Man Zhao's footsteps suddenly halted. Huh? Why hadn't he thought of that? Once the conscription was over, winter would be approaching. During the cold winter months, with nothing to do at home, they would definitely go to the blessed land to clear and cultivate the fields. Money lying idle did no good—why not buy an ox? That way, people and ox could take turns working, and clearing the land would be so much faster! An ox was also a major asset for a family, almost on par with acquiring land or building a house. It'd really be something to brag about. When Xiao Wu grew up and it was time to arrange a marriage, if the girl's family heard his family owned an ox—heck yeah!—they'd surely agree!

However, buying an ox required registration, so it definitely couldn't be done now. At the very least, they'd have to wait until the conscription was over, or even until the refugee situation was completely resolved and they no longer needed to hide.

"Alright, I'll keep it in mind. When we get home, I'll discuss it with your mother. Our family will buy an ox." He bounced his plump daughter in his arms. There wasn't a single farming old-timer who didn't cherish a plow ox. Later, he'd just say his daughter wanted to buy it—his wife would definitely agree.

"Xiaobao also wants a donkey," Zhao Xiaobao immediately added.

"A donkey? Good, good. I'll discuss that with your mother too when we get back. If she agrees, we'll buy one." Donkeys were gentle, could carry loads, and were excellent at climbing mountains. Hitched to a cart, they became a donkey cart. In the future, when going out, the women and children in the family wouldn't have to walk—very useful indeed.

In the dead of night, father and daughter chattered and planned all the way. Old Man Zhao had already promised his daughter both an ox and a donkey, and they even pinky-swore on it.

The mountain path was familiar, and Old Man Zhao didn't feel tired at all. He headed straight up the back mountain. By the time he found a high spot where he could see the general outline of the granary below and remain hidden, the first hint of dawn had quietly appeared on the horizon.

A night had passed, and dawn had arrived unnoticed.

Finding a flat spot, Old Man Zhao set his daughter down. Using the forest as cover, he looked down the mountain and decided to spend the day observing the granary's guard situation. If there weren't many guards, then the night after tomorrow would be the time he and his daughter would retrieve their own grain.

"Won't let those stinking officials have it cheap!" he gnashed his teeth.

Zhao Xiaobao waved her little fist in agreement. "Won't let stinky officials have it cheap!"

She sat cross-legged on the ground. Without being told, with a wave of her little hand, a basin of hot porridge, a basket of meat pies, two sets of bowls and chopsticks, and a wooden basin filled with water appeared on the ground.

Rolling up her sleeves, she put her hands into the wooden basin and began scrubbing her sticky little hands, not forgetting to call her father. "Dad, wash hands and eat. Mom says you must wash hands before eating. Dirty hands can't touch chopsticks."

"Your mother is right. Xiaobao did very well, truly your parents' good daughter. If you could just brush your teeth obediently, you'd be even better." Old Man Zhao immediately praised, sitting down cross-legged himself, scooping up a handful of water to wash his hands.

Zhao Xiaobao hummed and hawed without saying a word.

In the faint morning light, with the first rays of sunlight, father and daughter ate a warm breakfast.

After eating, they didn't idle. Because Old Man Zhao had discovered a wild pear tree not far away!

Boy, were they excited! They had searched all over the mountains behind their village and never found a wild pear tree. The only one was in the village itself, and they definitely couldn't dig that one up—all the kids had their eyes on it.

Here was different. Whether it was wild or planted by someone, if they encountered it, it was theirs.

Dig it up! Uproot it completely and move it to the blessed land. Next year, they'd have endless pears to eat!