Chapter 70

Stars hung in the vast sky.

Night.

A cold wind howled.

Gu Jinnian slowly opened his eyes.

His consciousness was hazy, with an indescribable feeling.

It was as if his soul had left his body, wandering around.

He didn't know where he was.

Nor did he know what had happened.

But

Under the stars, the surroundings were sparsely wooded, with only figures moving about.

These people's faces were full of fatigue.

They had no color.

Their clothes were tattered, and they were like refugees, moving like the living dead.

The moon was full, with no stars in the sky.

On the ground, looking up, the bodies were cold and stinking.

Everyone dragged their exhausted bodies, walking forward.

There was no sound of conversation.

Only the sound of footsteps.

After an unknown amount of time, they finally saw a fire.

It was below a city.

On the city wall, a row of elite soldiers stood, holding weapons, their eyes cold, looking at the mountain-like refugees.

"Jiangning Prefecture has grain, but there is no grain here. We can't take in too many refugees."

"Quick, go. There is no grain here. Go to Jiangning Prefecture, to the west. Just walk a hundred miles, and you will reach Jiangning Prefecture, where there is grain."

A loud voice echoed.

It was an official.

He stood on the city wall, shouting loudly, urging the refugees to head to Jiangning Prefecture.

However, below the city wall, countless refugees completely broke down, wailing, begging, and crying, creating a chaotic scene.

At this moment, Gu Jinnian understood that this was Jiangning Prefecture.

And it was a few days ago, because now Jiangning Prefecture could not be like this.

"Sir, please, we came from the disaster area, traveling a long distance, and we haven't eaten for four or five days. Could you give us a bowl of porridge?"

"Sir, my child is about to die. Please, have mercy, give us a bowl of porridge. You are kind-hearted, please."

Cries and pleas rose up.

The refugees knelt on the ground, begging for a bowl of rice porridge.

However, the official on the city wall took a deep breath, turned his back to the crowd, his body trembling, and tears streaming down his face.

But he couldn't open the granary to distribute grain. The prefecture didn't have much grain, and the people inside the city were also anxious. If he opened the granary, it might attract even more refugees.

That would bring even greater trouble, which could collapse the city.

But facing these refugees, he really felt distressed.

"Pass the order down, defend strictly, and send a hundred elite soldiers in disguise to transport some grain. If there are families in dire straits, give them some grain."

The official spoke.

This was the only thing he could do.

In the face of natural disasters, he couldn't save the suffering, and this was all he could do.

Wailing and crying drowned out everything.

But more people were numb. Some stood up, without cursing or crying, but instead dragged their families and headed northwest.

Gu Jinnian's gaze fell on a family.

There were not many people, only seven: a middle-aged man, a woman, and five children, the oldest being about fourteen or fifteen years old, the youngest about seven or eight, three boys and two girls.

They walked in the vast night.

Picking up tree roots, eating grass, struggling to survive.

On this journey, Gu Jinnian saw too many tragic scenes.

He even witnessed people digging up corpses.

The disaster worsened day by day.

Three hundred miles could make many people die on the way.

In a blink, two days passed, and there were no more bodies on the road.

But there were still a large number of refugees.

And there were still dozens of miles to Jiangning Prefecture. They were already hungry and thirsty, and walking ten miles a day was the most they could manage.

Moreover, the road was mountainous, not flat.

They were so hungry that they were pale and dizzy.

Finally.

In the night, the man of the family took his youngest daughter to a black inn.

The youngest daughter didn't know what this place was, but she knew that the innkeeper brought a bowl of rice, with pieces of meat on top.

Silence.

Only the sound of the little girl eating voraciously.

The man of the family looked at his daughter, tears streaming down his face, and finally took a bag of rice and meat back.

When the sun rose, the man set up a stove, stewed a pot of meat soup, and the whole family feasted, while also wondering where their little sister had gone.

But hunger made them not think about it.

Only their father and mother sat there in silence, especially the mother, who didn't eat at all.

Two more days passed.

It was late at night, and the man took his second child.

But this time, the mother stopped him, crying and kneeling, begging.

Finally, the man wiped his tears, left the child, and took his wife.

Two people went.

One person came back.

This time, the rice and meat he brought back were much less than before.

But it could last a few more days.

However, when the man returned, he found that one of his sons was missing.

Gone? Stolen?

He didn't know. After searching in vain, he could only take the children and continue walking.

Toward Jiangning Prefecture.

A journey of a few hundred miles.

For them, it seemed like a lifetime.

Three days later.

The family of seven was now only four.

Another three days.

They were down to the last three.

The oldest child was gone, leaving only the father, a son, and a daughter.

But they finally reached Jiangning Prefecture.

They saw hope.

At the four gates of Jiangning Prefecture, refugees piled up like mountains, far more than they had seen on the road.

At the porridge distribution site, there were crowds, and more terrifyingly, no one was distributing porridge.

People said the government granaries were empty.

If they wanted grain, they had to buy it.

120 taels per dan.

It was an astronomical number. For these refugees, even without the disaster, they couldn't afford such expensive grain.

The man had less than five taels of silver.

He felt desperate, and coincidentally, a wealthy family came out to select maids and servants.

No silver, but a good-looking girl would get five sheng of rice, and an average one would get two sheng.

In an instant, he took his daughter over, to make sure she was selected, he even brought some dirty water to clean her up.

His daughter, not yet ten years old, was quite pretty. After bringing her to the crowd, after half an hour of selection,

His daughter was chosen, and he got two sheng of rice.

This two sheng of rice was like a treasure, hidden in his chest.

He almost didn't eat.

All the grain was given to his last hope.

But even so, it wasn't enough.

In a blink, the price of rice in Jiangning Prefecture soared, and refugees died in despair.

The cries.

Heart-wrenching.

The despair, numbing.

Some died, but quickly disappeared.

Some didn't die, but suffered more than death.

Finally.

With a ray of sunlight.

The man was hungry for two more days, and his son was also sick from the cold and hunger.

Hearing the curses of the people around him, he felt desperate, and carried his child to a place.

Two hours later.

He came to an inn.

An inn similar to the previous one.

It emitted a bloody smell, and dozens of strong men glared at the refugees, but many refugees still brought their children or women to this place.

When he went inside.

He woke up his son, and in front of him was a rich meal.

Watching his son eat voraciously, he smiled.

Then he whispered some words in his ear.

"Be careful in the future, don't show off to others."

"When someone gives you meat, hide it and hide yourself."

"Eat a little each day, don't eat too much, understand?"

"When the disaster is over, you must earn silver to redeem your sister, don't forget."

These words, heard by the young boy, seemed insignificant. The boy was almost fainting from hunger, facing such food.

He only knew to eat voraciously.

After an unknown amount of time.

The boy had a full meal, and when he turned back, he found his father was gone.

The inn's strong men brought a bag, containing dozens of pounds of rice and meat, already cut into pieces, and handed it to him.

Without a word.

The boy took the bag and walked out.

The inn was desolate.

Wailing sounds came from the back yard.

He knew and didn't know.

No crying.

No sadness.

Only numbness.

On this journey, he knew many things, but he understood that only by surviving did he have hope.

Survive, earn silver, redeem his sister, this was his only hope.

But.

Less than an hour after leaving the inn, a group of refugees surrounded him, taking all the food and beating him up.

He was covered in blood.

Lying on the ground for half a day, he finally survived, but he was extremely weak.

Relying on his willpower.

He walked toward Jiangning Prefecture in a daze.

The sky was bright.

He leaned against the city wall of Jiangning Prefecture, basking in the sunlight.

But such sunlight couldn't dispel the cold in his heart or the cold in his body.

He closed his eyes.

No emotion.

No anger, no joy, no sorrow, just dying.

At this moment.

Gu Jinnian was stunned.

He stared at everything.

Seven days.

A family of seven, now only one, sold to a brothel.

Looking around.

Scenes suddenly flooded his mind.

A newly married couple, hit by a flood, followed their family to Jiangning Prefecture. To get food, the wife sold herself and became a maid, but three days later, a corpse was sent out.

An old woman, who saw her grandson beaten to death and dragged away, not knowing where.

A woman, holding a baby, delirious, not knowing what she was muttering, and the baby in the cradle was already silent.

Countless people looked at Jiangning Prefecture.

Their eyes were numb.

Their eyes were full of despair.

Their eyes were full of hatred.

Inside Jiangning Prefecture.

Flower boats appeared, with countless beauties.

Merchants, in groups, drinking fine wine, eating delicacies.

The songs of the courtesans were beautiful.

The zither played, with thousands of notes, but could not express the suffering of the people.

The laughter could not hide the ugliness of the world.

The cries of the people could not penetrate the city walls.

The soldiers stood on the city walls, numb and cold, seeing all the suffering.

Listen.

The cries disturbed the heart.

Look.

The people, like ants, piled up like mountains.

A scholar stood on a high platform, tears streaming down his face.

An old Confucian