Chapter 103

Chapter 103

If Zhao Sanwang had known the villagers were already ready for a fight, he would've slapped his knee and shouted, "Now that's what I call thinking ahead!" Damn it, they'd hit a wall in Taoli Village and hadn't even laid eyes on the Village Head.

By the time they reached Taoli Village, the sun was setting. Men who'd been hiding from the sun at home were carrying water buckets along the stone path. Seeing strangers, Zhao Sanwang spoke up first before they could ask: "Brother, we're from Wanxia Village. Is the Village Head—"

Before he could finish, the man hurried away with his bucket.

"What the hell was that about?" Zhao Sanwang was dumbfounded. "Am I invisible or something?" What a damn attitude!

"Ah, forget it, let's just head to the Village Head's place." Wu Youliang quickly grabbed him, worried this hothead might stir up trouble.

Zhao Sanwang spat hard in the guy's direction. His throat was bone-dry from the walk, and he was boiling mad. He muttered under his breath, "Better not let me find your fields, or I'll rip out a few stalks of grain on my way out."

Entering the village, they saw hardly anyone, though smoke was rising from every house, and you could hear kids hollering in the yards.

They made their way to the Village Head's place. Standing outside the shut courtyard gate, Zhao Sanwang called out loudly, "Is the Village Head home?"

A voice responded from inside, but the gate didn't open. "Who is it?" It was a woman's voice.

"I'm Zhao Sanwang from Wanxia Village. I need to see the Village Head, it's urgent. Please open up." Figuring it was the Village Head's old lady, he added, "It's a life-or-death matter!"

The Village Head's elderly wife paused, then slid the bolt back shut instead of opening it. After thinking a second, she said, "You all should head back. My old man isn't home. He went to the county seat a few days ago, and I don't know when he'll return. He can't handle a life-or-death case anyhow—that's for the county magistrate. You've come to the wrong person!"

And with that, she shut up.

She wasn't lying, to be fair. Her old man really wasn't home. He'd gone to the county a few days ago, partly to keep out of trouble and partly because their son had sent a letter saying he was doing well in the prefectural city but missed the cured meat from home.

Everyone's got their own ways. Even though their second son got drafted, where there are people, there is order, and order needs someone to manage it. The Village Head hadn't held his position for nothing. He'd used silver to bribe the county runners to connect with the prefectural city, to get his son a safe job so he wouldn't have to fight. Though it cost a lot, the eldest son didn't dare complain—after all, with two sons, if the second hadn't gone, the first would have. The younger brother basically went to die in his place.

This wasn't something they talked about openly, and the villagers knew nothing about it. They only knew the second son's fate was a mystery. The Village Head's trip to the county was for business, and since he was a Village Head, unlike common peasants, he had dealings with officials and often attended social functions, so no one suspected anything.

As for keeping out of trouble, that was about the Wanxia Village mess.

Zhao Dashan had guessed right. The Village Head didn't just know about the water blockage at Yujiawan, everyone in Taoli Village knew too. In fact, a bunch of nearby villages were in on it, and they'd all pitched in to move the rocks and sandbags.

The reason was simple: the drought and lack of water, plus they were still sore and wanted to make life hard for Wanxia Village.

As the Village Head, he couldn't act openly. Staying out of it was the smartest move—by not showing his face, he could claim he didn't know. If Wanxia Village wanted to raise hell, they'd have to take it up with the Yujiawan folks. And were the Yujiawan folks scared of them? Hell no. Yujiawan was a big village, and as the name suggested, nine out of ten families were named Yu, real tight-knit. Wanxia Village was small, and any fight would go bad for them.

The villages had a deal: if things got ugly, they'd call for backup. The water had to be cut off—partly to blow off steam, partly 'cause water was really scarce. With Yujiawan damming it up, the villages upstream could scoop more water for their fields.

They figured Wanxia Village would come knocking sooner or later. The Village Head's wife didn't want to waste words with them, so she didn't even open the gate, making her stance clear.

Leaving Taoli Village, Zhao Sanwang and his group's faces darkened.

"Dashan was right. The Village Head is in cahoots with Yujiawan." Wu Youliang ground his teeth. "How could it be such a coincidence? They cut off our water, and the next thing we know, the Village Head is off to the county. He probably knew we'd come looking for him and deliberately hid!"

"Must be tough for him, traveling to the county in this heat." Even the usually honest Wu Dazhu couldn't help but sneer sarcastically, his anger simmering. It was a hard journey in the heat, and they hadn't even seen the man—hadn't even gotten half a gate opened.

"Let's go. Time to go home and sharpen our tools." Knowing the trip would be rough, but not this rough—being spoken to through a wall was insulting enough. Zhao Sanwang was fuming. "If I don't beat the Yujiawan folks into submission tomorrow, my name isn't Zhao Sanwang!"

Hurrying back, they reached the village after dark, exhausted and panting.

The first thing they did was sound the gong. The heat didn't let up at night, and even sleeping with windows open felt stifling. Most families laid out reed mats in their yards and lit wormwood to sleep. Hearing the gong, everyone knew the group from Taoli Village was back. Those too hot to sleep dragged their families to the village head, while Zhao Xiaobao and her parents, sound asleep in the divine realm, knew nothing of it.

Zhao Ertian returned from the village head and said as he entered the yard, "Sanwang and the others came back empty-handed. Didn't even see the Village Head. They said he went to the county—who knows if it's true. The Taoli villagers wouldn't talk to them."

In the high-walled yard, several reed mats were laid out. The three branches of the family, including five boys, lay on them. They were better off than others, having wild fruits chilled in the stream all day—wild pears, red ground fruit, and raspberries. Though they couldn't bring their brothers, sisters-in-law, and nephews into the divine realm to escape the heat, Zhao Xiaobao had left them plenty of cooling fruits before entering.

"They must be guilty!" Zhu Shi cursed. "This is definitely a joint scheme to bully us. A bunch of heartless bastards! Did we block their way to survival? If they're so capable, why not go stir up trouble in the county or prefectural city? I can't stand such petty behavior!"

"Should we go tomorrow?" Luo Shi, sitting on the mat and gnawing a pear, saw her husband kick his straw sandals onto the third brother's mat and glared at him before crawling over to retrieve them.

"What would you go for?" Zhao Ertian yawned. The third brother's loud snoring made him drowsy too. He grabbed a pillow and lay down. "If a fight breaks out, you'd just be in the way. Better stay home so we don't have to worry about you."

That didn't sit well with Luo Shi. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got, and she couldn't help but pinch his thigh.

Under a starry sky, amid the cicadas' chorus and the scent of wormwood, they drifted off to sleep in the occasional cool breeze cutting through the heat.

The next day, before dawn, Wanxia Village was already awake.

Dozens of men shouldered hoes, followed by a group of women who insisted on coming. A throng of people trailed behind the Village Elders as they left the village.

As they stepped into Yujiawan's territory, someone ran into the village to report.

The Wanxia villagers saw it but didn't stop them. Zhao Shanao and the other elders looked at the blocked river—not just rocks but sandbags too. They weren't leaving a drop of water for them! Upstream, they could scoop water without bending over, while downstream was completely dry.

A bunch of rotten-hearted scoundrels! Utterly shameless!

Zhao Shanao was furious. Pointing at the river, he shouted to the people behind him, "Go! Move all the rocks and sandbags out of the way!"

The Wanxia men waded into the river without even taking off their straw sandals, lifting rocks and hauling sandbags.

As they worked, Yujiawan's people rushed over, led by a few old men. They hadn't expected such swift action—half the blockage was already cleared, and the water they'd painstakingly stored for days was gushing downstream like a broken dam. Red-faced and furious, they slapped their thighs and roared, "Stop! I said stop!"

"Stop your ancestors!" Li Laiyin pointed at them. "Yu, you old bastard! How can you be so wicked? What did our village ever do to you to deserve such a shameless act!"

"Stop them!" The old Yu man ignored him and ordered the younger men to block Zhao Sanwang and the others.

The Wanxia men stood their ground, preventing the Yujiawan villagers from entering the river. As they shoved each other, someone threw the first punch. Both sides were already seething, each convinced the other was in the wrong. It was like a spark hitting a pan of oil—chaos erupted.

The men started brawling, fists flying, rolling from the bank into the river, covered in mud. The women pulled hair and pinched arms, riding on top of each other, slapping faces and cursing, invoking each other's ancestors.

"You godforsaken bastards! Why doesn't heaven strike you down with lightning! Blocking water like this—such a despicable act!"

"Your village is short on water, but ours isn't? What gives you the right to block it!"

"We'll block it, we'll block it! Who's more despicable than you lot?! You're all as full of holes as a lotus root! You don't deserve water!"

"The soldiers should have taken you all away! You're the ones who should've been taken!"

The fight escalated. The Wanxia men ignored the resistance and kept moving the rocks and sandbags. To the Yujiawan men, it felt like a piece of their hearts was being torn out—water was life. Eyes bloodshot with rage, one man raised his hoe and swung it at Zhao Sanwang's head: "You want to move rocks? I'll show you! I'll hoe you to death!"

Zhao Sanwang dodged just in time, throwing himself sideways into the river sand. The hoe whistled past him by a hair's breadth.

"Damn it!" Zhao Quan elbowed a man who had him in a headlock. As the man winced, Zhao Quan flung him three yards away, jumped from the bank into the river, and tackled the man who had swung at Zhao Sanwang. He grabbed the man's neck and shoved his head into the murky water, ignoring the man's thrashing limbs.

Two Yujiawan men shouted "Gua Liu!" One picked up a rock and aimed for Zhao Quan's head, but before he could strike, Zhao Yong rushed over and tackled him into the river.

The river became a melee, water splashing onto the banks.

The old Yu men pointed at Zhao Shanao and cursed, abandoning all pretense. One turned to a woman from their village and said, "Go call the other villages! These Wanxia people dare to cause trouble on our turf—today, we'll teach them a lesson!"

Zhao Shanao raised his hoe and sneered, unyielding. "You're the ones crying thief! You blocked our water first—no matter who we tell, we're in the right! We just wanted to clear the rocks and sandbags. Your men started the fight! Are we supposed to just stand there and take it? That's not how it works!"

"We'll block your water if we want!" The old Yu men didn't even bother pretending anymore. The leader glared at Zhao Dashan and his unusually tall and sturdy father among the crowd, grinding his teeth. "Back when so many of your villagers 'died,' we believed it and trekked back and forth to help carry bodies. You said you hid in the mountains from bandits—what a coincidence! The conscription just ended, and you all came down. You must have known in advance and staged the whole thing!"

"What a performance!"

“What a waste of talent—not being on stage!”

The more he spoke, the angrier he grew—especially seeing so many strong, young men from Wanxia Village standing before him. It burned him up inside. Yujiawan was a large village; it should have had far more able-bodied laborers. Yet what was the result? A host of widows and countless fatherless children. Recalling how they had kindly helped Wanxia Village bury the dead only stoked his fury further.

After decades of life, elders grow razor-sharp—how many fools could there possibly be among them?

Some things simply couldn’t be dwelled upon; the more he thought, the more deeply wrong it felt. Wanxia Village comprised only a few dozen households. Though poor roads kept them largely isolated, when he recalled those dozens of corpses—and then looked at these very men brawling with their own villagers—even counting on his fingers, the numbers didn’t add up!

And they had patrolled the back hills day and night, never daring to slack off, terrified that refugees would storm into the village to loot and kill. Turns out, their fears were unfounded—the refugees were likely long dead, wiped out entirely by the people of Wanxia Village!

Too bad there was no evidence. Even if they reported it to the county office, it would be useless. The magistrate wouldn’t care a whit about the fate of refugees. Wanxia Village need only insist they’d mistaken the dead for their own villagers—and only later realized they were refugees. As for who killed them? They knew nothing—only the first group of elders descending the mountain had seen a pile of charred bodies.

Stick to that story, and who could touch them?

The longer he stewed, the madder he got! Now, with the water shortage, they might as well make an example of Wanxia Village—to teach the other villages they weren’t pushovers!

“Our village is so godforsaken even ghosts steer clear—how could we possibly have gotten word in advance? Don’t you dare use that as an excuse to cut off our water! Let me make this clear: I, Li Laiyin, wasn’t raised to be scared! We’re all old enough—so hear this: if anyone dares block us, none of us will live!” Li Laiyin shoved past Zhao Shanao, spitting directly at the Yujiawan elder through the crowd.

He didn’t believe his village had done anything wrong. The village head was a real piece of work—you had to bring a basket of eggs just to get him to lift a finger, and sometimes he’d turn up his nose, demanding chickens or ducks instead. He rarely mixed with villagers. Back when he went to Taoli Village to plead their case, others had only tagged along out of curiosity. Sure, they’d helped carry corpses twice—but that wasn’t justification for cutting off their water.

Besides, if Da Gen and his men hadn’t killed those refugees, do you think the refugees wouldn’t have gone on to slaughter their villages?

In that situation, even they harbored doubts—not fully believing whether Zhao Dagen’s account was true or false. They hadn’t even warned their own in-laws—how could they possibly have blabbed it to every village for miles?

The conscription was the court’s doing—the emperor’s and officials’ will. What did it have to do with them?

If they’re so tough, why don’t they go confront the officials?

It’s simply because they see Wanxia Village as easy prey—because heaven withheld rain, because of the crops in the fields, because of the water stored in the river.

In the end, it was all for their own selfish ends!

“Third Master, don’t waste your breath on them!” A young man from Yujiawan raised his hoe, glaring murderously at Wanxia Village. “Fifth Aunt’s already gone to round up the rest. Since they claim their village lost a bunch of men, it’s only fair if a few more of these extras kick the bucket!”

With this drought dragging on, since Wanxia Village started it, they’d finish it. Cutting off the water had been approved by the village head—with help from the other villages. Even if Wanxia Village objected, it was useless—in this world, might makes right!

Even if someone died, there was no fear. The village head said Wanxia Village wouldn’t dare take it to the county office—they were terrified of being seized as able-bodied men!

As for them, brothers had already been taken away; officials wouldn’t do much to them. Besides, with drought widespread everywhere, officials had no time for this nonsense. If they harvested two extra bushels of grain while Wanxia Village lost two, the total handed over would remain unchanged—the officials wouldn’t investigate.

The other villages arrived swiftly—a hundred or so men armed with hoes.

On the riverbank, two sides faced each other.

Wanxia Village stood alone, while across from them stood men from five villages—the women hanging back. They held overwhelming numerical superiority—no contest.

At this point, words were pointless. Yujiawan had dared call for reinforcements—and they’d come. This was now out in the open.

Five villages had ganged up to isolate Wanxia Village.

“Da Gen, this won’t end without bloodshed.” A few elders gathered around Zhao Dagen, tightening their grips on their hoes. “Bloodshed is fine. Death is fine. But we must fight back—otherwise, it’s not worth it. If we don’t make them hurt this time, they’ll walk all over us next time.”

If it came to this, they’d be bullied in every way from now on. But they couldn’t let it happen without consequences. At least next time, the other side would hesitate—wondering whether they’d lose a limb in the process. They had to strike fear into them.

This time, the pain had to be unforgettable.

“What village fight ever ends without blood?” Old Man Zhao glanced at the opposing side—rough count: over a hundred men from five villages. If one man per household came, that meant quite a few families had stayed behind—likely those with daughters married into Wanxia Village. Even the women who’d clamored yesterday to return to their natal homes to argue hadn’t spotted their brothers among the Yujiawan crowd.

Whatever their reasons for staying away, it was fine—it spared fathers and daughters, brothers and sisters, from turning on each other, and kept things from growing uglier.

“Boys, these villages are out of line—ganging up on us, cutting off our water, cutting off our lifeline. Whether it’s for the crops in the fields or for our wives and children, we cannot back down. Even if we risk our lives, we’ll make them know—we’re not easy to push around!” Zhao Shanao turned to the village men. At this point, it didn’t matter whether they were Zhao, Li, Zhou, Wang, Wu, Qian, Zheng, or Zhu—they were all in the same boat. No one was allowed to show fear. The disunity that surfaced when the refugees entered the village must not recur. “I’m stating this plainly: don’t fear death. As long as we elders are here, we’ll look after your families. Bullying widows and orphans—as these villages do—will not happen in ours. I, Zhao Shanao, swear it on my life!”

“I, Li Laiyin, swear it too. Go all out—fight for what’s yours. If you’re afraid of death and retreat, be ready to face water being cut off. Think of the crops, the grain left in the barns, and the parents and children who’ll go hungry!”

“Wanxia Village has no shame—they all conspired to deceive us, tricked us into burying refugee corpses, used us as cover to hide from the refugees. It’s inhuman!” On the other side, leaders of the other villages rallied too. “Our sons and brothers were taken as able-bodied men—no one knows their fates—while not a single household in theirs lost anyone. They go on living peacefully. Why should that be? Since they benefited from us, they must repay us elsewhere. Heaven refuses to send rain—and who knows how long this drought will last? Water is scarce everywhere, and the fields can’t go a day without it. Now it’s time for them to repay!”

“Repay! Repay!”

“Give us back our water—you owe us!”

“Block the river—don’t let them move anything! Anyone who moves it, kill them!”

Men from the five villages, eyes wild, charged into the river—replacing the stones and sandbags Zhao Sanwang and his men had cleared. Zhao Sanwang and the others couldn’t allow that, so they jumped in, shoving them aside—and the scuffling escalated into full-blown combat.

Countless men leaped into the river, moving stones to block the flow, while Zhao Dashan and his men tried to stop them. Chaos spread from the riverbank into the water—no longer bare-handed. Hoes swung at heads, each blow aimed to kill.

“Fuck your mother!”

Zhao Sanwang, weaponless, grabbed a stone and smashed it at an opponent’s head. The man dodged unsteadily, slipped on the muddy riverbed, and fell into the water. Spotting a nearby sandbag, he roared, lifted it, slammed it onto Zhao Sanwang, then pounced like a wild dog—pinning him down and shoving his head underwater.

Zhao Sanwang swallowed a bellyful of muddy water and sand, feeling as though all his senses were clogged. He struggled but couldn’t break free. Just as despair set in, the hand pressing his head suddenly loosened. His survival instinct kicked in—he flipped over, wiped his face—and saw Wu Dazhu had saved him, now pounding the man’s head into the water with relentless fists.

“Dazhu, move!” Zhao Sanwang shouted. Wu Dazhu dodged aside, and as the man tried to rise, Zhao Sanwang lunged, grabbing his neck. He reached for a stone—but grasped only sand, which he shoved into the man’s mouth without hesitation.

Seeing this, a man familiar with the victim raised his hoe at Zhao Sanwang. “I’ll hoe you to death!”

The water flowing downstream turned murky, tinged with red, winding around protruding rocks.

On the bank, someone’s shoulder was slashed open—the muddy hoe buried deep in the bone. When pulled, it wouldn’t budge, only drawing agonizing screams.

Someone swung a hoe—only to hit the person behind them.

Screams, chaos, blood splattering everywhere—the riverbank had become a boiling mess.

The heat was oppressive; sweat poured under the sun. Village elders stood at the rear, watching tempers flare, blows grow heavier, and Wanxia Village’s men charge forward like men with nothing to lose—all seeing red.

The scene spiraled out of control. Blood pooled on the ground—impossible to tell whose it was. Men lay motionless, limbs limp, bodies soaked in red, trampled underfoot.

Countless bloody footprints crisscrossed the ground. Cries of pain filled the air. Such a sight was unheard of—unseen—far beyond anything they’d anticipated!

The elders were drenched in sweat; the air thick with the hot, metallic smell of blood. Looking around, they realized most of those lying on the ground were from their own villages.

How could this be? It shouldn’t have happened! They had more men!