Chapter 13

It has been more than a month since the last batch of captives was sold. The yellow leaves have mostly fallen, and the remaining ones sway gently in the wind. I have finally been temporarily relieved from the miscellaneous tasks that kept me busy for over a month.

After Liangshan's great victory over the Five Prefectures' troops, they reaped a substantial windfall. The captured flags, weapons, and military equipment were piled up like mountains. After each army had their pick, the rest was sent to the rear army for processing, either for repair or reconstruction. The workload was enormous. Additionally, the young and strong men were selected to serve in various armies and camps, and those who, like me, were deemed unsuitable for frontline duties were assigned to the rear army. The number of people handling these tasks was insufficient.

Thus, I, with some level of education, was singled out and put to work as a clerk. After being busy for over half a month, I was once again assigned to the left camp at the rear of the mountain, where I was in charge of a miscellaneous warehouse.

Of course, valuable or precious items, as well as truly good things, usually did not end up here. They were either divided among the leaders on the spot or given as shares and gifts to higher-ups. Only the items that were hard to identify or deemed worthless, but were brought back anyway, ended up here.

These items were then available for the ordinary soldiers of Liangshan to pick through and find some use for. While the better-quality armor, weapons, flags, tents, and clothing were distributed, what was left were items of low value and in poor condition, such as damaged armor plates, bloodstained felt, tattered flags, cracked hand shields, and broken parts of large carts.

Other items included old water skins, patched jackets, dirty felt blankets, copper-buckled belts, leather goods, empty and chipped arrow quivers and scabbards, iron-bottomed woolen boots, leather thumb guards for archery, and various small trinkets of unknown value.

After registering and cataloging these items, they were sorted and displayed on racks. The Liangshan soldiers and their families could exchange items they produced or obtained from other sources for these goods. The warehouse manager was responsible for keeping records, while a few assessors evaluated the quality, and an old man weighed the items.

However, the original warehouse manager died during the attack by the government troops, and the remaining staff were reassigned elsewhere. The only person left was the old man who weighed the items, but he found the work tedious and often dozed off in the sun. Most of the time, I was the only one here.

I decided to move in and set up a temporary shelter using items from the warehouse. Although I still missed the conveniences of modern life, such as electricity, water, internet, and food delivery, at least I didn't have to listen to my stomach grumble or endure the constant upheaval and the smell of animals and insects.

In a way, the inertia of my former life as a hardcore otaku made it easier for me to adapt to this new environment. Even the memories of my time in Luoyang were temporarily put aside, as they were beyond my control. Although I sometimes felt a bit resentful, I realized that some things are only revealed under pressure.

The cold wind that seeped in through the patched curtains gently swayed. I squatted by the clay stove, where the charcoal, made by the local villagers, was glowing with a warm, golden-red light. I hummed the tune from the movie "Jiang Bo Hu: Dead and Still Eating, Eaten and Still Dying."

I carefully used two wooden bowls to press and shape rice cakes, then clamped a piece of meat, generously coated with yellow sauce and sesame seeds, between them. After roasting it on the stove until it was about seven-tenths cooked, I turned it a few times, and an ancient version of a rice burger was ready.

Due to the severe damage caused by the government troops' attack, the farmland around Liangshan was almost barren. However, Liangshan was not an ordinary band of outlaws. Soon, a large amount of grain and other supplies were brought in from overseas, though not for free. They had to be exchanged for war spoils and wealth. Compared to the profiteers in other regions, this was a much better deal.

In addition to the traditional grains and beans, there were even several thousand stones of rice from the south. I received half a stone as a reward for my hard work, though most of it was old grain that had been stored for several years. The taste was bland, and it was an early-maturing variety.

However, compared to the treatment of the new recruits who were former government troops, this was much better. They were given bean porridge and half-cooked old grain, which was a memorable experience that one would not want to repeat.

My group, having collectively pledged allegiance on the battlefield, received slightly better treatment than most of the captured government troops. Additionally, having useful skills made our lives more comfortable.

Back home, browsing food forums and experimenting with DIY meals was a hobby. With the convenience of online shopping, I could get almost anything I needed. As long as I had the ingredients, I could even make a meal fit for the gods.

Today is the Double Ninth Festival, marking the third month since I arrived in this world. According to ancient customs, one should wear dogwood and climb high with family, drinking chrysanthemum wine to express thoughts of loved ones. However, this peaceful scene did not fit the atmosphere on Liangshan.

Still, I received a symbolic piece of meat. It was tough and dry, like shoe leather, and after a few bites, my teeth were almost stuck with meat fibers. Without a toothpick, I had to use a sharpened twig to dig out the meat, causing my gums to bleed.

Unable to grill, braise, or stir-fry, I decided to stew the meat until it was tasteless and white, and just drink the broth. Since firewood was cheap, I could easily gather enough.

The meat for the rice burger came from a half-rabbit on a makeshift grill, a result of my small-scale initiative to promote self-sufficiency on Liangshan. It was a personal version of a New Orleans-style grilled rabbit leg.

In a blackened clay pot at one end of the stove, I was stewing a hot yam and snake soup. To deal with the bony snake, I stewed it until the bones fell apart, then strained the thick soup. Compared to the strictly controlled pigs, cows, sheep, and horses, wild game was abundant and cheap, costing only an old leather belt.

The land around Liangshan was fertile, suitable for growing grains, beans, and potatoes. The forests provided a source of fruits and game. I also prepared some pickled fish.

Due to the shortage of supplies, the large fish and better-quality aquatic products from the lake were reserved for the leaders. The small fish and shrimp that I managed to get from the communal kitchen were a treat for me.

The food on Liangshan was barely edible, consisting of fiber-rich cakes and vegetable soup, with insufficient protein and fat. This caused frequent hunger and emptiness in the stomach. To improve my nutrition, I had to find alternative ways to supplement my diet.

The miscellaneous warehouse was one of my sources of sustenance. After a major battle, most of the compartments were filled with broken items. Despite the hardships, I could use my position to improve my living conditions. On Liangshan, money could buy very little, and the prices were exorbitant, much like the overpriced canteens and convenience stores in modern schools. Therefore, bartering was the norm for the lower ranks.

Under my management, the warehouse became a popular place for people to find useful items. The benefits were tangible, and I avoided attracting the attention of my superiors or colleagues.

Occasionally, the fresh or old bloodstains on the items sent to the warehouse would remind me of the harsh reality. I was living in a chaotic era, and as a bandit, this false sense of security was just an illusion.

Although I was part of this group, I remained cautious, keeping my secrets and fabricated background hidden. I had little sense of belonging and, as a new recruit, it was difficult to gain attention and trust quickly.

I could only make reasonable suggestions when it came to matters that affected me, gradually testing the limits and acceptance of the group's leadership to improve my living conditions.

Dreaming of a sudden surge of charisma that would make everyone bow to me, offering me women and power, or willingly submitting, was a sure way to die quickly.

The experiences and outcomes of my predecessor's life taught me that until one's strength and abilities were sufficient to protect oneself, one would always be working for others or building castles on sand.

Even the most advantageous background and connections were part of one's strength. Respect and equality were based on corresponding strength.

Even if one wanted to join a group to gain strength, it required the right opportunity and method. Liangshan was not a suitable place for me to settle.

Liangshan's bandits were a group of outlaws in a chaotic era. Without the support of foreign powers, their discipline and organization would not be much better than the government troops. They were just as likely to commit atrocities against the weak, such as ordinary people, but they usually killed fewer and plundered more. Their claims of robbing the rich to help the poor were just a deceptive propaganda tool in this turbulent time.

Unlike the romanticized heroes in novels, they rarely bothered the poor because the poor were too impoverished to rob. Instead, they used small amounts of food and threats of violence to recruit temporary cannon fodder and informants.

However, when needed, they did not hesitate to commit brutal acts or use people as human shields to demonstrate their power. The idea of robbing the rich to help the poor was just a deceptive slogan in this chaotic era.