Chapter 252

Chapter 252

After the villagers left, the forest fell into a brief silence.

Their original plan had been to trade for some food—nothing extravagant, just enough to last ten days or half a month. Once they entered the mountains, even if the snow piled up to their knees, they could survive on tree roots until they reached Yanlin Prefecture, where spring would be near.

The border needed people; with so many able-bodied men among them, none carrying illness, they could work a plot of land, harvest grain, pay the grain tax. The officials only needed to allocate them places to live, issue grain seeds, and grant land to farm. No matter how hard life got, they would manage to survive.

It was this faint hope of a stable future that kept them going day after day.

They didn't even dare to consider the alternative—that the news of Yanlin Prefecture unconditionally accepting refugees might be false. If so, with nothing left, they would truly be left to die.

Harboring endless fear and uncertainty, they had marched forward until today. Now, with their food nearly gone, they were ready to risk everything for this final leg... At this crucial moment, the village head of this place told them that if they wanted to live, they had to endure until the spring snow melted, and only by following a merchant caravan could they safely cross the mountains and reach Yanlin Prefecture.

The old folks suddenly felt lost and helpless, unsure of what to do next.

"Dagen..."

When in doubt, turn to Dagen. Zhao Shan'ao reached out a trembling hand and grabbed Old Zhao, as if pulling strength from him. His face was full of hope: "Tell me, is that relative you mentioned in Yanlin Prefecture real or not? Do the folks in our village know this relative? Why would they be so far away? I never heard you mention it before."

All along, they followed Dagen's lead without question, never asking if it was right or whether they could survive. Even when heading to the feared borderlands, none of the village men ever thought Dagen would lead them into a trap or send them to fight in a war.

The border was terrifying, yet they trusted Dagen. He said they could live if they went to Yanlin Prefecture, so they gritted their teeth and barreled down a path that seemed like a dead end.

They were truly exhausted—bone-tired and weary to the core.

It felt like they were shut out of the door to life, and this endless mountain range was the barrier blocking them. They didn't have the strength to get up, cross that threshold, and step into a new existence.

They desperately needed a jolt of strength to recharge their parched bodies.

Old Zhao looked at the eager faces before him. Thinking back, the past year had been nothing but turmoil for their village: first the earthquake, then the refugees, then conscription, followed by drought, and then this never-ending trek...

His family, because of Xiaobao and the support from his daughter, had slogged on like worn-out oxen, worn to the bone. But these fellow villagers, who had no other options, had only clung to a blind faith in him—Zhao Dagen—to persist until today. That was no small feat.

They hadn't fallen behind or made trouble. There were minor frictions, but that was human nature. If the roles were reversed, he doubted he could have done better.

Maybe he owed them a little more trust?

Catching his wife's eye and seeing her nod, Old Zhao took a deep breath and made up his mind.

He placed his large, calloused hands on Zhao Shan'ao's shoulders, a hint of reminiscence in his eyes, and said slowly, "Do you remember Wang Jinyu—the one who stayed with us?"

Zhao Shan'ao was taken aback. "Xiuxia's great-nephew?"

He remembered the boy had suddenly shown up and then just as suddenly vanished from the village. The Zhao family said they had found a place for the great-nephew, that he was going to live a better life. The villagers whispered that Old Zhao and his missus must have sold the boy to a pawnshop in the county; after all, with so many mouths to feed at home, who could afford to raise someone else's child?

Zhao Shan'ao had seen the boy—fair-skinned and refined—nothing like the village kids. He figured if the boy had been sold to a pawnshop and was lucky enough to be bought by a wealthy family, he might become a young master's page. Some people wear scholar's robes but don't look the part—like his own grandson and Zhao Xiaowu and his brothers. They'd be too crude to even work as pages.

Now that Dagen brought up that boy, could the relative be Wang Jinyu?

So he hadn't been sold to a pawnshop but all the way to the border?

Sold so far away...

"Now, now, Dagen, that ain't right. You treated that boy so poorly, and now you want to go seek him out? How could that work?" Zhao Shan'ao slapped his thigh, his eyes full of reproach. That's no way to behave!

"What did I do to him? What're you thinking?" Old Zhao slapped his own thigh in return. "In short, that boy wasn't really Xiuxia's great-nephew. I can't tell you who he is right now, but you just need to know that if we reach Yanlin Prefecture and are lucky enough to run into him, I won't brag, but Wang Jinyu definitely can pull some strings and find us a place."

"Oh, Dagen, Wang Jinyu is that capable?" Old Lady Zhou's familiar voice rang out. "I thought that boy had great prospects from the start! We've never seen such a handsome lad. That refined air—only scholars have it!"

"You've even seen a scholar?" Old Lady Wu, who never got along with her, rolled her eyes. "Back in the village, didn't you watch him running around with Xiao Wu and the others, chasing your chickens and cursing them? You even chased them with a broom! The next day, when the chickens didn't lay eggs, you went to the foot of the hill and blamed the boys for making your chickens sick, demanding they pay you for the eggs! Or am I remembering wrong?"

Old Lady Zhou, who had just woken up and regained her strength—feeling ready for a fight—jumped up to confront her. "Why are you lying through your teeth?! When did I ever curse Xiao Wu and the others? Didn't you see how well my Chunya and Chunmiao got along with Xiaobao? Our old Zhou family and the old Zhao family are like one family! You can't change that no matter how much you slander me!"

"Have some shame!" Old Lady Wu rolled her eyes so hard she nearly fell over. She had never seen anyone so shameless. In the village, it was her family that had the worst relationship with the Zhao family, their kids constantly at odds. Yet now this woman claimed they were the closest.

She hadn't eaten, but she felt like puking.

Zhao Xiaobao watched with amusement. Life on the road was dull, so she counted on Old Lady Zhou and her grandson Zhou Santou for entertainment.

Honestly, back in the village, she had hated Old Lady Zhou's favoritism. But now, away from home, listening to her squawking all the way, she didn't even find her irritating voice annoying anymore.

Even Chunya had come to terms with her grandma's favoritism. In these lean years, not being sold off into servitude was already a blessing.

"Shan'ao, didn't you once offer that boy a handful of wild fruit? Haha, I remember his face puckered from the sourness. I'm sure he remembers you well. That child is kind-hearted and sentimental. If he sees you all, he might be really happy."

During the time Jin Yu spent in the village, he certainly didn't live in luxury. But Old Zhao believed that those days of running wild in the mountains with the village kids, climbing trees and wading in rivers, and seeing the friendly, curious faces of the villagers, must have left a deep impression on him during that sorrowful time after losing his loved ones.

He didn't dare to hope for too much, and he wouldn't. But if the day came, he believed Jin Yu would be willing to find them a place to settle.

Although he often whispered to his wife whether the child still remembered them or missed them, deep down he always believed Jin Yu had never forgotten home.

He had never forgotten being Wang Jinyu, living a carefree life in a remote mountain nook called Sunset Village.

"We must live to reach Yanlin Prefecture, every single one of us. We've made it through such hard times; it would be a shame to fall here." Old Zhao looked at every face staring back at him—young and old, gaunt and weary. "We will safely cross this mountain range and set foot on Yanlin Prefecture's soil. We will settle there and make it our home. The border general is a good man, and the general's wife loves the people. They will allocate us land to farm. If we are diligent, our children will never go hungry again. The girls will find suitable matches when they come of age, and the boys will marry and have children. Then our homes will be filled with joy, and each day will bring more hope.

"We old folks, when we can't work anymore, the women can stay home and watch the grandchildren, and we old codgers can twist hemp ropes and weave bamboo baskets to add to the family income. Life will be stable and comfortable..."

Everyone was captivated by the picture he painted.

This was the most simple and ordinary life for common folks, yet it was something they had to endure immense hardship to achieve.

No one knew who started crying first, whether out of joy or sorrow. The sobbing rose from low to high, and even Qingxuan lowered his eyes in sadness.

He had suffered since childhood, drifting from place to place, scraping by. Before meeting his master, peace and stability were what he dreamed of day and night. Though he was not old, it felt as if he had been searching his whole life for what others had from the very beginning.

Someone grabbed his hand at his side. He looked down to see Zhao Xiaobao's clear eyes.

"Brother Qingxuan, are you sad?" the little girl asked softly.

"No," Qingxuan turned his head away.

"Alright then." Zhao Xiaobao didn't insist, but she held his hand tight and said in a sweet voice, "Xiaobao's nephew Jin Yu is really great. When we get to Yanlin Prefecture, Xiaobao will ask Nephew Jin Yu to help you find your parents."

She thought that Brother Qingxuan was too proud to admit his sadness in front of her. Once he found his parents, he would be happy.

Xiaobao had parents, and she was the happiest child. Once Brother Qingxuan had parents, he would become the happiest child too.

Qingxuan was amused by her earnest expression, and the vague resistance that had been building in him ever since they approached Yanlin Prefecture eased a little.

He didn't know what was wrong with him. On many sleepless nights, he even thought that this life was fine.

Though it was hard to admit, he realized he wasn't as eager as he had imagined to meet his so-called birth parents.

When his life was hard, his parents weren't around. Now that things had stabilized, they still weren't part of his life. This search felt more like a quest for his own identity.

What he was looking for wasn't a father or a mother. What he was looking for was himself.

"Zhao Xiaobao."

"Xiaobao is here."

Zhao Xiaobao waited for a while.

"Xiaobao says she is here!"

"Mm." Qing Xuan nodded.

"...?" Zhao Xiaobao shook off Qing Xuan's hand and ran over to hug her father's legs.

Old Man Zhao was still rousing everyone with passion: "I've made up my mind. We are good law-abiding folks, we can help the government take care of its problems and hunt down the fugitives!"

The crowd, still wiping tears and feeling sorrowful, fell silent at once.

Zhao Shanao, who knew exactly what he was like, his beard trembling, his voice shaking with fright: "Da, Da Gen, what are you up to again?"

Old Man Zhao was very dissatisfied with his use of "again". He scooped up his daughter, who was clinging to his leg and wanting a hug, stretched out his long arm, pointed at the snow-covered mountains, and said with great heroism: "The fugitives burn, kill, and plunder the people. They are damned souls that deserve to burn in hell. Let's go grab their food and hunt in the mountains. Then we'll have grain and meat, and we'll eat to our hearts' content. Even if we encounter wolves on the way, we'll have the strength to fight them to the death."

The village head only said that so many people entering the mountains would be a suicide mission, but he didn't say that taking his own sons and daughters into the mountains would be suicide. He was indeed skilled and bold, and had already set his sights on the fugitives.

As long as people hide in the mountains, they can't do without food and drink—salt, grain, meat, clothing—what is there they lack?

In that case, what's wrong with him taking it by force?

The murderers wanted by the imperial court—the executioner can chop off their heads, so Old Man Zhao can certainly do it too!