Chapter 236

Chapter 236

It wasn't just them wanting to flee; many ordinary folks in the main city were already carrying bundles on their backs and high-tailing it out with their families.

There's never been a shortage of sharp folks in this world. The rich and well-connected, the big-name families, clinic doctors, neighbors of the sick, soldiers guarding the city... Anyone who paid a little attention could detect the surging undercurrent beneath the seemingly calm surface.

The northern part of the city was relatively fine. Those coming and going daily were mostly poor commoners living frugal lives. They guarded their own small plots of land, their stalls and shops, busy from sunup to sundown, drenched in sweat. All year round, they were counting every copper for the household, marrying off daughters and taking in daughters-in-law, managing social obligations. Their minds were entirely focused on earning money, only able to see the work in their hands, with no time or mind to look up and see the changing situation around them.

But the southern part of the city was different.

After the evening meal, the people of the two villages sat together. Sun Silang still couldn't shake the shock of his elder brother and sister-in-law's deaths. He looked totally crushed and said in a low voice, "I kept my eyes peeled. More people are leaving the city than usual. Looks like the rich folks are packing up. Carts with goods lined up from the city gate to the end of the backstreet, a vast crowd, with guards clearing the way. It was a huge scene. Yesterday, it took us nearly an hour to get out of the city."

He worked as a broker, traveling around the city all day. His job was all about sharp eyes and a smooth tongue, and attention to detail was his bread and butter.

In fact, several days earlier, he had noticed that the horse market was way too hot. Even broken-down old mules and donkeys were being bought at high prices, and there still weren't enough. Now that he thought about it, it was probably because many in the city had sensed something amiss and were preparing to flee early.

In peaceful times, commoners lived frugally, counting every penny. Buying a major item meant endless bargaining. They would haggle until their lips were dry, and even then, they might not sell a single pack animal. Such disregard for losses in purchasing donkeys and mules was already quite abnormal.

But at that time, he was busy searching everywhere for a doctor and had no extra energy to focus on these trivial details. Now, upon careful reflection, those bustling commercial streets, the spacious and quiet mansions of the wealthy—these days they had been noisy and cluttered, with people coming and going, goods being moved back and forth.

All signs had been there all along.

Zhao Ertian took over, "Dad, do you remember the Qi family, the local gentry from Shilin Town? The one that moved the whole clan? Those carts leaving the southern part of the city were just like the Qi family back then. They were piled high with chests, servants, goods, family members—stretching as far as the eye could see." The only difference was that the wealthy families in the prefectural city had a larger scale, more family members, and possessions lined up for several streets, with dozens of guards.

"How could I forget? I saw it with my own eyes." Old Man Zhao sighed and said. Back then, before the world had become so harsh, the Qi family started selling off their property and announced they were moving the whole clan to seek refuge with relatives. It's true that clever people are abundant. More than one local gentry in Shilin Town was selling off assets, but the Qi family was the first to take their clan and run. Not only did they escape the great drought and conscription, but also countless visible and hidden dangers.

Even a remote gentry like the Qi family could sense danger early, let alone the powerful and wealthy of Fengchuan Prefecture?

As the old saying goes, if you don't know what to do, follow the clever people. You can't go far wrong.

Those customers in the city buying sick donkeys and old mules were probably thinking the same way. They couldn't get inside information themselves, but seeing the wealthy families start selling off assets and preparing to flee, they followed suit.

Now the situation at the southern city gate—where people had to queue to leave—was exactly that. It was unusual, certainly not normal, but not particularly eye-catching either. After all, this was a prefectural city. Merchants and travelers came and went daily. There were always those risk-taking merchants willing to make money walking on the edge of a knife. In disaster-stricken areas, the commoners suffer while merchants prosper. With a constant flow of carts, if you weren't paying close attention, the relocation of wealthy families was just another kind of spectacle. Ordinary people would glance at it as a bit of entertainment and move on.

The reason they were observing closely was that they too were preparing to flee, so they were naturally more attentive to changes around them.

Old Man Zhao explained about the Qi family of Shilin Town, while Sun Silang occasionally added details about the situation in the prefectural city. Bit by bit, they pieced together a grim picture of a future fraught with extreme danger.

They were standing on the edge of a storm. There was a road ahead, but below them was a cliff. Leaving might not guarantee survival, but staying meant nine times out of ten you're dead.

On the mountainside, crowded with several hundred people, it was so quiet you could hear a mouse fart. Even the kids clung quietly by their parents, too frightened to speak by the stiff, scared postures of the adults.

The villagers of Liuhe Village felt their guts drop. Thinking of their relatives who had gone to the county's relocation camp, many showed a look of bewilderment on their faces, along with a creeping sense of dread.

If those at the top were all slipping away quietly, was there any hope for Fengchuan Prefecture?

The villagers who stayed in Qushan County—their relatives—had they really picked a better way out?

If the situation was dire, would the county magistrate of Qushan also cut and run? Had the city officials already skipped town without a word? Was that camp still safe? If the plague spread, and they were sleeping in the same room, the same heated brick bed, with people who might or might not be infected, could they still escape?

Thinking this, everyone felt panicked. They wanted to suggest sending someone to Qushan County to bring them back, but then they remembered that the prefectural city already showed signs of plague. The village chief wouldn't hear of it, and the Wanxia Village folks wouldn't stand for it either. Nobody could take that risk.

From the moment they chose to go to Qushan County, they could never come back.

"Second Granduncle..."

The village chief shook his head, stopping the speaker. This matter could not be brought up. It must not be mentioned. Back then, they had said everything, good and bad. The path was chosen, and you have to live with the consequences. Now, with roads cut off, no easy travel, and time tight, they could not make a special trip to Qushan County. He couldn't just look out for his own; that would be plain selfish. It would cause nothing but bad blood down the line, with constant friction and no benefit to anyone.

He mused, "The situation in the prefectural city is not optimistic. We'd better find a place to settle down before news spreads outside. Otherwise, even if we manage to escape Fengchuan Prefecture, other places won't take us in. They might even arrest us for isolation and quarantine."

The scariest thing about the plague is how fast it spreads. Once Fengchuan Prefecture erupts and the prefectural city loses control, even if we manage to escape to another prefecture, as soon as they hear our Fengchuan accent, with a 'better safe than sorry' attitude, they'd arrest us. If we're unlucky enough to encounter a hot-tempered official, they might just pull a sword and cut us down where we stand.

You can prepare for drought and flood, but plague? How do you stop that?

If one person gets infected, the whole village dies. If a whole village is infected, a whole town will suffer. It's foreseeable that from now on, the people of Fengchuan Prefecture will be unwelcome wherever they go. At best, they'll be driven away; at worst, they'll be killed.

They themselves are living sources of infection—plague, disease, a lethal threat.

"We have only two choices. Either we hurry and settle down before news of the plague outbreak spreads outside, or we hide and stay put until the plague passes before showing ourselves in public." The village chief looked at Old Man Zhao sitting opposite. "There's no third way."

"Brother is right. That's what I think too." Old Man Zhao took a deep breath. They had numbers, but that was to guard against outsiders, to intimidate bandits and refugees. They were nothing against a proper defensive city force or soldiers. Although he was determined to go to Yanlin Prefecture, it wasn't as simple as just wanting to enter the city. Even if he could meet Jin Yu, with Jin Yu there, he had to consider the boy's situation.

Even though Jin Yu was his own uncle, he was still living under someone else's roof. Life might not be smooth for him. Making a boy take on the responsibility of accepting acquaintances who might carry the plague—the consequences were not something a boy living under someone else's roof could bear. He couldn't be so inconsiderate of the child.

Although he was eighty percent confident that boiling some peach juice for everyone to drink could prevent the plague, nothing was absolute. Outsiders didn't understand their situation.

Unless they could run a thousand miles away before the plague broke out, then they wouldn't give people any handle against them. Otherwise, they had to hide, wait out this disaster first. After half a year or a year, when things calmed down, they could reappear without much danger.

To run? they didn't have the legs for it. To hide? not enough grain. Either way, it was difficult.

"Si Lang, if we push ourselves hard and don't rest, can we reach Yanlin Prefecture in a month?" Old Man Zhao turned to look at Sun Silang. "Are there any shortcuts?"

Sun Silang was startled. "Uncle, you want to go to Yanlin Prefecture?"

Old Man Zhao nodded and explained his thoughts. "In today's unstable world, no place is good if you can't survive. Take our hometown, for example. Not exaggerating, it was almost like deep mountains and dense forests. If it weren't for the great drought causing the land to crack, and the wolves and boars on the mountains coming down to ravage the land and crops, competing with us for water sources, then no matter how chaotic the outside world became—war or change of emperor—it wouldn't have affected us there. As long as we were willing to go deep into the mountains and hide from conscription, as long as we could survive, even if we became unregistered, it didn't matter."

"But we still fled." He paused for breath and continued, "We fled to this wonderful Fengchuan Prefecture. If you don't mind me saying, in all my years, I've never seen such wide rivers, such fertile farmland, such flat and open official roads and paths. When it comes to living, Liuhe Village and our Wanxia Village are worlds apart. We simply can't compare."

The people of Liuhe Village shifted restlessly, scratching their faces, picking their feet, their clothes rustling as they moved. They felt a mixture of awkwardness and pride. Their place was indeed pretty good, much better than that mountain backwater of theirs.

"Our place is still decent. As long as you're willing to put in the effort, you won't go hungry." The village chief stroked his beard and smiled, waving his hand modestly.

"More than just not going hungry." Old Man Zhao said with a smile. "In the past few days in the prefectural city, we've gathered a lot of information. Fengchuan Prefecture is a blessed land. No matter how chaotic Qingzhou Prefecture becomes, it never reaches here. Ahead, there's Wuling Mountain blocking the way, and further ahead, the dead city of Xinping County. Within the prefecture, great rivers flow continuously. Although there was drought before and now flooding, these are natural barriers against cavalry. With extensive waterways, a humid climate, and frequent merchant shipping with intertwined interests, I heard the customers chatting in the teahouses say that no matter how much fighting happens outside, it can't reach Fengchuan Prefecture. It has natural advantages."

It was also a place others coveted, but it was hard to attack, so they could only try to win it over through alliances.

Old Man Jin put his left foot on his right knee, his hands unconsciously picking at his toes. "Yes, our Fengchuan Prefecture has good terrain. Ahead, Wuling Mountain; behind, the Zesha River. The official roads are flat and open, the land fertile. We can farm and do business. Others rely on mountains or rivers for a living, but we can get a bite from everything."

"What a great place." The village chief looked somewhat depressed. "And yet we still have to flee."

Yes, such a wonderful place. Their ancestors must have accumulated great virtue for them to settle in Fengchuan Prefecture. And yet they still had to flee.

Except for the truly dim-witted, most people more or less understood his meaning. What good was a good place? It still depended on who was in charge. Fengchuan Prefecture was connected by land and water. If you had land, you farmed; if not, you could go to the dock to carry loads and never lack work all year. Even the poorest family, as long as they were diligent and had strength, could fill their stomachs and support their family. Such a land of opportunity, and those officials had managed to ruin it like this!

Half the prefecture was flooded, corpses were strewn across the fields, and disease was rampant.

In times of turmoil, even a land of fish and rice could not withstand the destruction of pests. When the big tree was hollowed out, it fell at the first gust of wind. The ordinary people under its shade were the first to be crushed.

Thinking of their ancestral homes submerged at the foot of the mountain, and the swollen bodies in the river, they felt both helpless and sorrowful, and powerless to change anything.

Other than fleeing, they had no choice.

"Yanlin Prefecture is out on the frontier. I've heard there are frequent battles there. Life there must be rough for ordinary folks." An elderly clan elder of the Sun family sighed.

Sun Silang thought for a moment and then said in a low voice, "They say the frontier is harsh. But during the great drought, according to traveling merchants from north and south, the officials there braved the blistering heat, combed the hills for water, and dug wells like crazy. When the harvest was poor, the General's lady even opened the grain stores to feed the people. I haven't heard of anyone starving or dying of thirst."

"Yanlin Prefecture was willing to accept refugees unconditionally. It was the refugees themselves who got spooked at the word 'frontier.' They worried about being conscripted into the army, so they'd rather be wandering beggars and troublemakers in other prefectures than go to Yanlin Prefecture."

Ordinary commoners were terrified of conscription. Not many had the guts to head to Yanlin. Even the toughest men were scared of being drafted and turned into cannon fodder.

Come to think of it, the flood not only swept away the people of Fengchuan Prefecture but also many homeless refugees. If they had chosen to go to Yanlin Prefecture back then, they might have carved out a way to survive.

It's all fate, I guess.

"To be honest, aside from the fighting and the bitter cold in winter, I haven't heard of any major disasters or calamities there." He frowned, thinking hard, trying to recall any sign of trouble in Yanlin Prefecture. "The cold, barren land is poor, harvests are meager, winters are freezing, summers are hot, and war claims lives, so life is hard."

Yet, despite this place lacking everything and having a long list of drawbacks, there have been no reports of snow disasters burying people alive, starving people exchanging children for food, or soldiers left unburied sparking epidemics.

Merchants travel all over, they hear everything about what's going on in the world. The authorities might try to conceal the truth, but these people don't care about reputations—good is good, bad is bad. Where the local customs are fierce, where bandits roam rampant, where life is hard, where it's prosperous—regular folks get their ideas mostly from the big mouths of those merchants.

When I praise or criticize Yanlin Prefecture in Fengchuan, they can't control that over there. So, some reports from above may not be accurate, but what's spread below isn't necessarily false.

"Our shop's head clerk goes to the border every year. They say it's poor, but people still live their lives. Every year, we sell out a dozen wagonloads of goods, and there are no bandits on the road. They say the place is strictly governed." Ma Erniang hesitated. "Maybe Yanlin Prefecture isn't as dangerous as outsiders think?"

They all looked at each other. Nobody said a word.

No one dared to vouch for it, and no one could say for sure—after all, no one had been to Yanlin Prefecture. Except for Sun Silang and his wife, most people had never even heard of it, let alone knew which direction it lay.

Everyone was nervous. Sure, it might be nice, but it's the border. All that fighting nonstop? Terrifying.

"Isn't there somewhere else we can go? There must be a better place, right? We don't care about rich or poor, just somewhere we can survive. There should be other options." Someone spoke up quietly, drawing a chorus of agreement.

"The border is far, right? We don't have much food. Can we even make it there? How about picking a closer place with a more stable life?"

"Yeah, the border is always at war. What if we get conscripted?"

"Maybe we should think it over and find a more suitable place?"

"Is there any stable place left?" Old Zhao cut right to the chase, after listening to all the confused remarks. "Still haven't figured it out? We're choosing who to follow, not where to go! Choosing officials who can manage the people, are willing to manage them, and won't abandon us no matter the disaster or hardship!"

"That year, the snow disaster in Suyang Prefecture—the official covered it up and delayed rescue, leading to pretty much everyone in those areas died. Then an epidemic broke out, and the mess grew too big to hide from the higher-ups, so the outside world finally learned of Suyang's calamity. Later, the court ordered the city locked down and the bodies burned, fearing the plague would reach the capital. Only a handful of folks got out. With nowhere to go, they ended up in Qingzhou Prefecture causing chaos. Bandits sneaked into our village, looting, killing, and burning houses. No one helped us; we had to rely on ourselves. We killed all the bandits and only then did the villagers survive."

"The bandits ran wild everywhere, the local government was useless, and the court couldn't handle it either. They just started conscripting soldiers on the spot. The soldiers came down to the villages, grabbing people, tying their feet with hemp ropes for fear they'd run. The line was endless, dark and dense—countless mothers cried their hearts out, countless children lost their fathers. We used every trick in the book to dodge it and stay alive."

"Then the drought hit. You wouldn't believe it—the village upstream cut off our water. Several villages ganged up on us, and the village head didn't intervene. We swung our hoes at each other, people died on both sides. We only managed to fight our way out through sheer grit. Life was hard."

Old Zhao wiped his face. He usually didn't talk about these things, but once he did, his heart ached. Hard, damn hard. He didn't know how they had endured.

"The drought was terrifying. We couldn't stay in our hometown anymore. Wild animals came down from the mountains, there was no water in the rivers, and we had no place in the village. Our hometown became rebel territory, and we were labeled rebels ourselves. We had no choice but to flee."

Sobs broke out, endless sorrow. The people of Wanxia Village bowed their heads, tears streaming down their faces.

The folks from Liuhe Village were stunned, their mouths agape. They never imagined their lives had been so hard, each story more dangerous than the last—like crossing one hurdle only to face another.

"Tell me, isn't all this chaos because the officials did nothing?" Old Zhao said grimly. "Back then, all those people died in Suyang Prefecture simply because the officials didn't care about the common folk, didn't value human life—they looked down on us, stepped all over us."

"When Qingzhou's city gates were breached and bandits ran amok, the court dragged its feet and did jack, leaving us to suffer. Isn't that on account of the useless emperor?"

"Fengchuan was suddenly hit by floods. A big prefecture like that, with corvée labor every year building dikes and clearing rivers—how could the damn dams still be so easy to wash away?"

Old Zhao grew angrier as he spoke. He didn't want to dwell on it, but many things were obvious: taking pay without working, cutting corners. The heavy rain was one thing, but there were other hidden reasons behind this disaster—plenty of people in the city discussed it.

Galloping sinecures—he remembered that term well.

"Suyang Prefecture, Qingzhou Prefecture, Fengchuan Prefecture—three examples staring us right in the face. Wherever we end up, it might be remote, poor, or chaotic, but we gotta be able to survive! As long as there's a decent official up top who’s willing to look after us, then that’s the place for us!"

"Even if you're scared of getting drafted at the border, don't think it won't happen somewhere else. Qingzhou isn't the border, but they're still grabbing able-bodied men everywhere! Even the bandits on Wuling Mountain snatch people passing by. There are uprisings everywhere, and war always needs men. When they're short on men, they grab anyone—even missing a leg or an arm, they'll take 'em."

"The world's only gonna get worse. There's no true peace anywhere. Going to the border is actually the best choice."

His eyes swept across the frightened faces, his voice resolute: "I'm dead set on Yanlin Prefecture. If you don't wanna come, I can give you some grain. I won't force anyone. We'll go our separate ways."

A moment of silence.

Zhao Shanao looked left and right, saw everyone else looking too. He slapped his thigh and shouted, "Our whole village is with you, Da Gen. Don't even ask—consider this the second half of our escape. You're still in charge. Wherever you go, we go. Whatever you say, we listen. Same as before!"

"That's right!" Old lady Zhou, eager to prove herself, jumped up before Li Laiyin could speak and yelled, "Da Gen, you can't abandon us! My whole family put together doesn't have one smart person. If it weren't for you, my Da Tou and San Tou wouldn't survive. I'll do whatever you say. My family must follow you!"

"Can't you keep your mouth shut, old woman? You're deafening me!" Li Laiyin glared at her, then turned to Old Zhao with a big smile, buttering him up. "Oh, isn't it obvious? Our village is definitely following you! What's wrong with the border? More soldiers there! We'll enjoy the shade under a big tree. Life might even be more stable!"

"Grandpa, the border! We wanna go to the border!" Zhao Xiaowu and the other boys were thrilled—they couldn't wait to see Wang Jinyu again!

Li Dahe, Wu Dazhu, even Wu Youliang who was still sick raised his arm and yelled, "To the border! We're all farmers through and through. Even barren land can grow crops. We won't starve anywhere as long as Yanlin Prefecture will take us. We don't wanna be rebels—we wanna be regular folks!"

"Yeah, we wanna be regular folks! Not rebels, and not refugees!"

The people of Wanxia Village started shouting over each other, their voices echoing in the night, startling birds in the forest and rustling the branches.

The mood got fired up, chasing away the gloom. The people of Liuhe Village felt their unease lift and inexplicably grew excited.

"Village head!"

"Second Granduncle!"

"Second Uncle!"

Everyone looked at the village head.

"What are you shouting about!" The village head tugged at his beard and glared. "We agreed a long time ago we'd go with everyone. I ain't changing my mind!"

Before they could grin, his face turned serious. "But as for you all, the direction was decided after thorough discussion, weighing the pros and cons. Nothing was hidden. You must also be prepared to lose your lives on the road. Fleeing disaster means putting your life on the line. Once you leave home, nothing is in your control. There's no telling what dangers you'll face. The folks from Wanxia Village, they've been through it. We lean on them—gives us a better shot at making it. Brother Da Gen led his people out all the way from their hometown, not leaving behind a single elderly or child. I trust I don't need to tell you what that means. If we follow, we must obey his orders and his arrangements. I'm no exception."

These words needed to be said behind the scenes, but even more so in front of Zhao Dagen. As village head, he was useless outside Liuhe Village. Zhao Dagen had to take the lead. Since they depended on him, they had to listen to him. Judging by how the Wanxia villagers behaved, it was clear he earned respect. As village head, he knew better than anyone that managing a village like that wasn't just about brute strength.

He had his own abilities.

If his own people kept causing trouble and complaining, he had no doubt Zhao Dagen would leave them behind halfway, no matter what was said.

"We've been following orders. If you don't believe me, ask Old Lady Zhou. We've gotten along well these days. We work together—cutting bamboo when told, digging wild greens when told. We've been obedient." Old Lady Jin was quite indignant. Was she that blind?

"We all obey! We're fleeing for our lives—of course we listen!" Old Man Sun rubbed Sun Xuming's head. With the eldest son and his wife dead, he doted most on the siblings. "Second Uncle, rest assured. We're not ungrateful people. We won't be a burden. If there's any troublemaker, we'll kick them out ourselves before the Wanxia folks even speak. Since they're so capable, they can fend for themselves."

"Our village can't have troublemakers!" someone immediately shouted. "If there is, I, Sun Datian, will be the first to object!"

"That's right, Village Head, don't worry. We all know what you mean. We, the people of Liuhe Village, mustn't embarrass ourselves. We'll follow orders. Whatever Uncle Da Gen arranges, we'll do. Relax, we've got a clear head." Old Man Zhou's eldest grandson laughed.

The village head pointed at them one by one, a smile spreading across his face. He turned to Old Zhao, who was watching, and spread his hands. "Brother Zhao, you heard them? From now on, we'll rely on you. Don't be polite. Arrange things as you see fit. We'll listen."

"Alright." Old Zhao nodded without hesitation. One group to drag along, two groups—it made no difference. "Then it's settled. We're going to Yanlin Prefecture."

"Let me be clear upfront: on the road, everyone follows my orders. Anyone who doesn't can leave on their own. We don't take troublemakers. I'll treat everyone equally—Wanxia Village and Liuhe Village, same rules. No favorites. Rest assured."

"We trust you." The village head nodded with a smile.

It was getting late. They discussed the route briefly, then each person lay down to sleep, their minds full of thoughts.

The next two days, they would work hard to lash bamboo rafts, build carts, dig wild greens, and set traps to stock up on more food. If all went smoothly, they'd set out the day after.

This journey would be long and perilous, the road ahead uncertain. It was as if they walked through thick fog, groping step by step, slowly but steadily forward.

There was no turning back.