Chapter 160

Chapter 160

Juanping County, Xiaohe Town.

The clatter of hooves and the rumble of wheels, accompanied by the clanging of water dippers and ladles striking against the cart, grew louder as they approached from a distance.

On the stone-paved road, a dark, swarming crowd of refugees wearing straw hats and straw coats trudged slowly forward. The blazing sun hung high overhead as they dragged their heavy legs, burdened with carrying baskets and shoulder poles. They were sun-scorched like the wild grass by the roadside, wilted and unable to straighten their backs.

Ever since leaving Wuling Mountain, they had passed through two towns and over a dozen villages. Whenever they saw haystacks in the fields, regardless of whether anyone was in the village, they would swarm in like locusts descending on grain and strip everything clean.

Now, regardless of age or gender, everyone had a set of straw hats and straw coats. Although they were scratchy to wear, they were much better than coarse linen. They provided shade and coolness, and no matter how much sweat poured, they could simply pull out a handkerchief, reach inside, and wipe it off. Women and girls no longer had to worry about heat rash, and life was finally a bit less unbearable.

The stone road wasn’t entirely smooth. As the wheels rolled over depressions, the carriage swayed, and the dried meat hanging from the four corners, like decorations, swayed along with it.

Not only the leading donkey cart was covered in dried meat; the group walking behind also had meat strips sun-drying on their flatbeds, baskets, and gaps in their carrying baskets. Many children carried wooden poles over their shoulders, from which hung meat strips tied with wild grass, like preserved meat. Under daily exposure to the sun, the meat strips had completely dried out, shriveling into meat rolls that curled up, shrinking several times and hanging like goat horns.

The name "Three Snake Pit" was well deserved. When they first passed through this place, whether it was bad luck or good luck, they actually encountered a snake den. Though there weren’t any giant snakes as thick as three waists as rumored, there were quite a few snakes, both venomous and harmless.

Initially, they thought of taking a detour to avoid stirring up trouble—better to have fewer issues. Getting bitten by one of these creatures would be serious.

But these snakes had no sense of tact; instead, they provoked Old Man Zhao’s precious treasure.

During a rest stop, despite carefully driving them away, a five-pacer viper somehow appeared in the middle of the night, nearly biting Zhao Xiaobao, who was sleeping soundly.

Fortunately, Xiaohu, the tabby cat raised by Qing Xuan, was alert. It sensed something wrong and meowed repeatedly. Wang Shi and her three daughters-in-law woke up upon hearing the noise and discovered a venomous snake coiled beside the straw mat where they slept.

The five-pacer viper had yellow-brown mottled patterns and was lurking in a pile of dead leaves, almost completely blending in with the fallen foliage.

It tried to escape, but Xiaohu blocked it, playing with it like a toy. The cat’s paw would occasionally reach out and poke it, making sure it couldn’t get away in any direction.

The commotion was so loud that Zhao Xiaobao, who usually slept like a log, woke up. Opening her eyes, she saw her second brother pressing the snake down with a rake fork, its triangular head terrifying her so much that she immediately burst into loud cries.

Everyone in the village knew how much Old Man Zhao doted on his late-born daughter. Among all the children in the woods, this beast had to pick the one who was most untouchable to attack. Though it failed, it had thoroughly offended the entire Zhao family, young and old.

Even though they had already passed the snake den during the day, Old Man Zhao insisted on going back with his men to destroy its nest. On the way, they caught every snake they saw. Venomous ones they dared not eat, so they extracted the gallbladders for medicinal wine; harmless ones they skinned and sun-dried as preserved meat for storage.

They didn’t discard the snake skins either—such items were sold in medicine shops. Though they weren’t sure if they could sell them, keeping them was better than throwing them away.

The country men were skilled at catching snakes: they used rakes to pin down the neck of venomous ones, and for harmless ones, they simply grabbed them with their hands. Working together, not even the children got bitten.

Food was already scarce, and meat was especially precious—no one would turn it down regardless of the type. Day after day of gnawing on dry flatbread and corn cakes had left their mouths sick of the bland food. When they lit the stoves to cook, they would cut the snake meat into segments or mash it up, using it both as filling and for soup—it was always a major dish.

They stayed at Three Snake Pit for five or six days. When they left, every household’s cart was loaded with meat strips.

If only the season were right—if it had been two months earlier, they could have stayed longer at Four Locust Trees. That place was full of locust trees, and the locust blossoms could be chewed for sweet water. When no water source was available, eating a few more blossoms could quench thirst.

Locust blossoms could also be made into pancakes, serving as a major food source.

But unfortunately, they hadn’t arrived at the right time. The locust trees were completely bare, and because locust trees were often associated with ghosts and spirits, they didn’t dare linger and quickly left Wuling Mountain.

After a day of rattling and clattering, just before sunset, they finally found a place to settle down.

It was a village. At the entrance stood two plum trees, already dead from drought—bare branches and roots without a single leaf.

Upon entering the village, not a sound could be heard. From one end to the other, thirty or forty households all had their courtyard doors tightly shut. Peering over the low walls, firewood and benches were scattered randomly in the yards; some main rooms and kitchens were open, others closed. At the backyard chicken coops, chicken manure and duck droppings were sun-dried and stuck to the haystacks, still showing signs of disarray.

The group had grown accustomed to this. They picked a few houses near the village entrance to rest, used the firewood stacks under the eaves of the owners’ homes, and took turns going into the kitchens to cook flatbread and prepare meals.

As the sun set, thin wisps of cooking smoke rose, giving the village a peaceful, timeless appearance.

The men who had gone to check the wells returned, sighing and shaking their heads: "Both wells are dry. San Wang even jumped down to look—weeds are growing at the bottom."

"We climbed over walls and searched every house. The granaries and cellars have been cleaned out completely. We found three cotton quilts, winter clothes for both adults and children, and some cotton shoes. The owners didn’t take them."

"No farm tools. The only thing we found was a rusty woodcutter's knife with a chipped blade, tucked in the woodpile under the eaves."

"We even checked the cracks in the walls—not a single copper coin."

After the crowd reported in bits and pieces, Old Man Zhao waved his hand and told them to organize the winter clothes, quilts, and cotton shoes they had found and bring them all along.

"This is a big village. Search more carefully, turn everything over, and find anything useful." Thinking about how everyone had been noticeably cutting back on rations—eating only half a flatbread per meal, which was hardly enough to fill their stomachs—and how they were exhausted every day without strength, he paused.

He called over his eldest and third sons and whispered a few words to them.

Zhao Xiaobao, who was squatting in the yard watching Qing Xuan feed the donkey, was suddenly picked up by her eldest and third brothers.

"Xiaobao wants to watch Brother Qing Xuan feed the donkey," she said, kicking her legs. She had been riding in Qing Xuan’s cart the whole way and had grown very close to him, following him everywhere.

"What’s there to watch with a donkey?" Zhao Sandi laughed, holding down her chubby legs. "Come on, let’s go treasure hunting with Third Brother."

Every time they passed an abandoned village, they would stop to rest and search for anything useful or edible. Things like thick winter quilts, winter clothes, and cotton shoes—perhaps because it was too hot, or because people couldn’t carry all their belongings—had been left behind. Now, these once-precious items were a boon to them.

Though many didn’t quite understand why they needed to carry quilts and winter clothes in the scorching heat, these bulky and seemingly useless items, they were obedient. They searched when told, carried when told, and never raised objections.

That was why, despite the food supply shrinking along the way, their flatbeds were still piled high with goods, and sometimes even growing larger.

They kept moving, kept replenishing. What wasn’t needed now might be useful later.

After arranging everything, Old Man Zhao could finally catch his breath. Watching people come and go in the yard, listening to the cheerful chatter of his wife and Dahe's wife and the others in the kitchen, he began to ponder their future journey.

Things were even worse than he had anticipated. He had thought that Juanping County, near Hebo County, would be in better shape, but everything he had seen along the way chilled his heart.

Every village they passed was nine-tenths empty. In the village where they now rested, the old wells had run dry, and the entire population had long fled.

Juanping County had few mountains; most roads were flat. Many villages had only two small hills behind them. With no rain from heaven, once a drought struck, it was hard to find a way to survive in the hills. Mountain streams dried up, forcing people to flee.

Xiaohe Town was the only town they had encountered on their journey that still had relatively abundant water sources.

As its name suggested, this place had never been short of water in the past. There was a river outside the county that usually suffered from floods, not droughts.

But this year was different. The great drought had hit the whole land. The sun blazed every day, drying up even the river. Such a large river—the downstream villages had to carry water daily to irrigate their fields. Whether they had a good harvest was unknown, but it was evident that the river couldn’t hold up to the demand. It had completely dried up a month ago.

Standing in the riverbed, you could feel solid ground underfoot. The silt had been baked dry and scattered, and large numbers of river clams had died. If you weren’t careful, a shell could cut a gash in your sole.

Though their destination was Fengchuan Prefecture, the current state of Juanping County sent a chill through Old Man Zhao. He felt the world was growing harsher, and it was truly difficult for ordinary people to survive.

It was also hard to find out what was happening outside. The locals had either fled or were timid and xenophobic. Often, before they could approach, the villagers would pull out axes and hoes to drive them away. Old Man Zhao didn’t want to cause trouble, and he couldn’t stand seeing them act like birds startled by a bow, so he simply led his people away.

There were some they could talk to, but they were refugees from elsewhere, just like them, all heading toward Fengchuan Prefecture.

Some clever ones, seeing their large group, proposed traveling together for mutual support, but he refused. There were also those like the Shi family, carrying half a bag of grain, begging to be taken along. He didn’t agree either. Even though it might offend people and draw grudges, he didn’t want unnecessary complications. They were strangers—who knew if they had ulterior motives? Their group had many children, and he couldn’t take that risk.

Besides, he felt that his own group had weapons and plenty of able-bodied men. Taking in outsiders would clearly put them at a disadvantage. He wasn’t one to suffer losses. Unless someone offered truly compelling terms, just moving their lips to ask for companionship wasn’t enough. Better to wipe the sweat off, wash up, and go to sleep early.

Thinking about weapons, a satisfied smile spread across his face. They now had twelve blades in total—enough to raise a small bandit stronghold if they raised their arms and called out.

Of course, he had no ambition to become a mountain king. He just wanted to lead his villagers to forge a path to survival and find a safe place to settle down and put down roots.

Shi Dalang figured it'd take 'em two more days to get to Hebo County.

The river from Xiaohe Town ran straight to Hebo, so all they had to do was follow it. In the past, the two counties could be crossed by boat, but now, not to mention ferrying, even horses could gallop along the riverbed. That just goes to show how crazy widespread this drought was.

The more he mulled things over, the more lost he felt, like he couldn't see the road ahead. The ground under his feet was pitch black, and one wrong step could send him falling into nothing—nobody knew for sure.

By the time the smell of meat hit 'em, the sky had already gone dark.

It was a rare treat, so they all cooked up some snake meat stew. They didn't have any spices, just a pinch of coarse salt, but it still made for a tasty meal. Kids and grown-ups alike were thrilled—after all, it was free, and that made it taste even better.

But something even better was waiting for them. The three siblings who'd gone "treasure hunting" in the village actually dragged back two sacks of old grain!

That got everyone hyped up like crazy. Grandpa Dagen had a rule: anything they found on the road belonged to the whole village, and he'd divvy it up.

The grain Dashan and the others found would go into the common pot, and later, when they ate together, everyone would get some!

"Holy cow, how'd you find that? Man Cang and the others tore through every cellar in the village and didn't even bring back a single grain!" Old Lady Zhou hollered, genuinely excited as she stared at the two sacks of grain dumped on the ground. She'd climbed over walls, pried open cracks in walls and floorboards, and checked every spot she usually stashed her money—nothing. The folks in this village weren't stupid; they hadn't left a single copper coin behind, so how could they have missed whole sacks of grain?

"Dashan, where did you find them?"

"No way! We didn't miss anyone's cellar!"

"We searched carefully, no slacking off!"

When they heard the news, the folks resting in other houses swarmed over, all talking over each other.

It didn't add up! How could the latecomers find grain? Were they blind or something?

"We found them on the back mountain. I figured the old well was dry, so I went up to look around. Then big brother kicked a stone slab—it looked exactly like the entrance to the cellar we dug in the mountains to hide grain back then," Zhao Sandi lied through his teeth. "We moved it aside, and sure enough, there was a cellar. We climbed down and found these two sacks."

"I guess they were hidden by some elderly loner in the village. They've probably been there for a year or two—a bit moldy."

Back then, their father had taken their little sister to sneak into the big granary and quietly take ten thousand jin of grain, along with the grain that several families had handed over. He had said at the time that he would store it for them and give it back when the opportunity arose.

Along the way, the other families in the village hadn't let them down. Their father treated everyone equally, thinking to give them some reassurance, so they wouldn't have to sigh and worry every time they saw the grain dwindling.

These two sacks of old grain had been sitting there for who knows how many years and were a little moldy. They were actually the inferior stock that the three siblings had found after searching for a long time in the mountain hut and storage shed.

Their family really wasn't short of grain. The ten thousand jin in the big granary hadn't been touched. All along, they had been eating the newly harvested grain from this year's fields and the grain bought earlier from the town's grain shop. Tossing two sacks to the village was a drop in the bucket, so naturally, they didn't sweat it.

Zhao Sandi's made-up excuse was actually believed by everyone.

Every village had its lonely elders, and theirs was no exception. The old man who always tagged along behind Zhao Shanao's family was one—he fed only himself and didn't worry about the rest. If he died of a sudden illness or had an accident, like falling off a mountain slope while chopping wood, his body might go cold before anyone found him, and he'd never have a chance to pass on his belongings.

For these outsiders to coincidentally find the inheritance of a lonely elder—wasn't that fate?

"Put these two sacks of grain together with the clothes we found. We'll arrange everything later!" Old Man Zhao waved his hand and made the final decision.

Everyone was over the moon, silently vowing to head up the mountain again after eating—who knew, there might be more cellars?