Chapter 157

Chapter 157

He had a strong impression of this man. Back when they left Lukou Town and reached a bend in the road, a mule and a donkey had jostled for the lead. His donkey cart was slightly outmatched by the other's mule cart, falling behind and eating a mouthful of dust.

He encountered this man again when he and the family of three crossed the sinkhole under the cover of night, leaving Xinping County a step ahead of them.

After that, he picked up Qing Xuan, waited for the villagers, passed through the dead village, launched a surprise attack on Wuling Village, and then rested for a few days to recover from injuries...

He had originally thought it was just a chance encounter between strangers; he didn't pay it much mind. But fate was unpredictable—he never imagined they would meet again in this place, under such circumstances, in such a state.

The stench of rotting corpses made his head spin. Even covering his nose and mouth with a hand towel, the smell seeped in everywhere, as if a single whiff could poison him.

Old Man Zhao's mind was filled with the image of maggots crawling everywhere. He grabbed his eldest son, who was rolling his eyes and retching after one glance, and the father and son stumbled back, alternating dry heaves that they couldn't stop.

Despite the scorching heat, their hands and feet turned icy cold, and they couldn't stop shivering.

"What's going on? What happened up ahead? Why are you two reacting like this? Did someone squat on the road?"

The father and son crouched on the ground, vomiting bile. Those walking ahead saw this and quickly called for Village Elders.

Zhao Shanao and Li Laiyin squeezed out of the line, wanting to go forward but remembering Da Gen's order to stay put. They stamped their feet in anxiety. "What's the situation, Da Gen? What did you see to have such a reaction? Don't just keep vomiting—say something at least!"

Li Laiyin untied the bamboo tube from his waist and handed it to Zhao Xiaowu, who was also craning his neck. He pushed him, saying, "Take some water to your grandpa and dad!" Da Gen was an experienced man, the most capable in their village. If even he reacted like this, what they saw must be something disgusting to the eyes and stomach. Look at the two of them—vomiting as if they were trying to scoop out their throats.

A group of men stood on tiptoe to look, sniffing the air, but they were too far away to see or smell anything.

Zhao Dashan gasped for breath, unable to speak. Unlike his father, he hadn't been quick-witted enough to pull out a cloth to cover his nose and mouth. In the village, he carried manure to water the fields every day—what filth hadn't he seen? Those bodies thrown into the latrines by bandits had been fished out by his own hands. You'd think that scene was more disgusting, but at the time, he just thought the manure stank and endured it.

But this time—really, he was too slow with the cloth. One breath and his insides felt pickled by the stench.

That corpse, no exaggeration, was like a rabbit killed by a wolf and left in the woods, sun-baked for days until it rotted and bred maggots, surrounded by mosquitoes and ants feasting on it. The smell was so strong that even the Buddha would forget to chant "Amitabha" and would have to vomit first.

"Grandpa! Dad!" Zhao Xiaowu ran over, looking curiously toward the front. "What did you see that made you throw up like that?" Had someone really squatted on the road? He thought not—how could his grandpa and dad, such formidable men, be so affected by two piles of feces?

Old Man Zhao waved his hand. Zhao Xiaowu then turned the bamboo tube and handed it to his father.

Zhao Dashan took it and gulped down two mouthfuls of water, barely managing to suppress the rising nausea. He was too exhausted to speak. Turning to look at his father, he saw that his complexion was no better—pale as death, obviously just as shaken.

Though he knew the world had already fallen into chaos and human life was cheap, he still couldn't quite get over a corpse being thrown by the roadside like that.

Most importantly, he didn't know how the man died.

Was he killed by bandits? Or beaten with a cudgel? He couldn't have died of thirst—he'd seen clearly that the man's abdomen had been punctured by a sharp weapon. It was a man-made death, not natural.

A heaviness settled in his heart. Since leaving the village, they had experienced all kinds of things and seen all kinds of people. Every refugee fleeing outward wore a miserable expression—skin and bones, gaunt and sallow. No one knew if they could survive to the next step.

But this was the first time he had directly faced how life was as cheap as grass under a natural disaster.

A person could really be tossed aside like livestock by the roadside to rot and stink.

"I know this man," Old Man Zhao said, frowning. He briefly told his son about how they had vied for the road before and seen each other once after that. "I remember he was traveling with a family of three—four in total. He was the driver."

Zhao Dashan was surprised that his father knew the man. After a moment of shock, he said, "Could he have been betrayed by his own people?"

If outsiders had done it, there wouldn't be only one corpse. Women and children could have escaped, and the male driver wouldn't have been left behind.

Unless he was a loyal servant who sacrificed his life to buy time for his masters.

He shared his thoughts. Old Man Zhao thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't know."

After all, they were just strangers. Whether the driver was a servant or hired help, he couldn't say. The first time they met, the family of three was inside the carriage, so he hadn't seen them. The second time, he had glimpsed them, but it was nearly dark, and he only faintly saw that their clothes weren't fancy—more like a modest household.

At least they didn't have the deep pockets of those lords and ladies who wore silk and satin, smoked and cooked in the woods, and worried about washing their hands and wiping their bottoms when they had three urges, even when water was scarce.

Though it was a pity, he was more concerned about the corpse being left unburied and unburned by the roadside, left for snakes and insects to eat. Over time, it could breed an epidemic.

Why did they have the children dig latrines at every resting spot? Besides making sure everyone kept clean and didn't eat dirty things that would make them sick, there was another reason: they worried about wild animals eating human waste.

Though unpleasant, it was true. Animals were drawn to human excrement. After eating it, they would go to streams and rivers to drink. Unwitting people who found those water sources would scoop up a handful and drink raw, without precautions, and easily fall ill.

In the village, there had been cases of children who got worms in their bellies and died painfully.

Especially now, with the severe drought and scarce water. When people couldn't find water, they dug up wild grasses and tree roots to chew for moisture. But animals were different—they ate whatever they could. Creatures that fed on carrion were already unclean. If they went and contaminated water sources, then if someone drank and ate, and then...

By then, everyone on Wuling Mountain—whether from the villages or the bandits—would be at risk. If one person got sick, no one would escape.

The root of epidemics, after all, was eating unclean things. The disease source first infected one's own family, then spread to the villagers, and finally to outsiders. One person sick, the whole village suffers. If it gets out of control, it ends with empty homes everywhere.

This wasn't like smallpox, where you could see the pustules on people's faces and avoid them. Epidemic diseases were invisible and untouchable. Once infected, there was no cure; you just sat and waited for death.

That year of the northern snow disaster, wasn't it because bodies buried in the snow were left uncollected, rotting over time, then eaten by rats, which contaminated the water, which infected healthy commoners? One infection spread to many, and in the end, the entire city was burned.

Now, one rotten corpse wasn't enough to cause such horrific consequences.

But clearly, when robbery and killing became the norm, death became commonplace. The bodies by the roadside would go from one to countless wild graveyards. After the animals' feast, it would be humanity's turn to lament.

During great disasters and calamities, visible dangers could be avoided. But how to deal with invisible threats?

Old Man Zhao thought a lot in that moment. The bandits and refugees on Wuling Mountain seemed to share a fate of life and death.

If the bandits stayed quietly in the mountains with less greed, the refugees would pass through quickly. Any conflicts or deaths would be within control.

But if they were insatiable, violent, and bloodthirsty, sharpening their knives today and shedding blood, then tomorrow, they would have to eat the bitter fruit themselves.

One death was nothing to fear. But a hundred, a thousand deaths—under a sea of blood and mountains of corpses—what great horror would breed? No one could predict.

Thinking this, he became even more determined to leave Wuling Mountain as soon as possible.

Zhao Dashan watched his father frown in thought for a moment, then suddenly slap his thigh and walk back, shouting, "Oh my god, there's a dead body up ahead! The stench is pungent! Hurry up! Those of you with hand towels, fold them and cover your noses and mouths. Those without, find a strip of cloth and stuff it up your noses. When passing by, hold your breath—don't inhale too much, or you might get poisoned!"

"What? A dead body up ahead?" Zhao Shanao's eyes widened. He thought someone had been careless enough to squat on the road, but this was worse than that.

He let out an "aiyo" and quickly pulled out his hand towel, folding it and tying it over his nose and mouth. Breathing his own sweat stink was better than smelling corpse stench. Judging by Da Gen and his son's reactions, it must be awful. They needed to be careful.

The others followed suit, the team in an uproar. Mothers grabbed their sons and shoved rolled-up cloth strips firmly into their nostrils. Not satisfied, they warned, "Don't secretly take them off! Only take them off when everyone else does! Do you hear me?"

A child craning his neck to look outside waved impatiently. "I know, I know!"

"Hey, you're getting impatient?" She slapped his bottom, then grabbed a girl nearby and stuffed cloth strips into her nostrils without a word.

The girl's nostrils were stretched wide, making it hard to breathe. She was a bit reluctant at first, but seeing everyone else in the same getup, she stopped resisting.

Zhao Xiaobao also had her nose blocked. She struggled to pull at it, mumbling, "Mom, Xiaobao doesn't want this. It's uncomfortable."

"Be good, listen. Just for a little while. We'll take it off once we pass this stretch," Wang said without turning around. She had covered the wooden curtains and everything tightly to keep the smell out. If even the old man said it stank, she didn't dare imagine how strong it was.

Qing Xuan refused the cloth strip offered by an aunt. He pulled out his handkerchief and covered half his face like a masked hero.

"Don't let your eyes wander or stare. Don't say I didn't warn you—one glance and your stomach will ache, and you'll feel nauseous for days. Even a dry flatbread will taste sour."

"Don't breathe, don't look or smell, and walk faster."

The stench really started to hit. Old Man Zhao quickly shot off a few words, then stopped talking, holding his breath and striding forward.

The massive group had been making some noise, but as the foul odor pierced even through the cloth strips they wore, they finally caught on why Uncle Da Gen had told them not to look. To produce such a stench, the scene must be absolutely disgusting—children would have nightmares if they saw it.

The mothers kept a sharp eye, keeping a close watch on their own kids. As they passed the dense thicket reeking with foulness, and saw a child starting to turn his head, a mother didn't hesitate to whack him on the back of the head.

Smarting from the slap, the kid winced, clutched his head, and sucked air through his teeth. He could only hurry along with the crowd, no longer daring to glance around.

And some hard-headed ones had to see for themselves. As they passed, they deliberately stood on tiptoe and craned their necks to take a look—only to nearly twist their ankles in shock.

"Blegh!"

"BLEGH!!"

The sound of retching came one after another, and even the scorching sun couldn't dispel the chill that ran down everyone's spine.

Oh my god—I wanted to gouge my own eyes out!