Chapter 47

Chapter 45: Gradual Departure

I had another dream. The city and estates with a tropical flair, the ubiquitous orchards and sugarcane fields, and the laborers and slaves working with bare arms, were the most common scenes in the indistinct seasons of the year.

A little shadow that never left my side, with a delicate and tender face, shy and affectionate, evoked a deep sense of fondness and satisfaction, a feeling of warmth and indulgence from the heart.

Therefore, "I" often took her, dressed as a boy, to the outskirts of the port city to play, enjoying the various dialects and skin tones of the people from different regions, and the diverse scenes of life.

The shaking and the obvious jolt indicated that I had dozed off in the carriage. Through the thin white glass of the carriage window, the early spring sunshine was just right.

The land, which should have been full of life and vitality, was instead desolate and bleak. This was the Huai River region, known since ancient times for its prosperity and dense population, where even the poverty-stricken could not adequately describe the decay.

Compared to the lower reaches of the Yellow River, where the river often broke through its embankments, causing floods and new water bodies, the Huai River region was much better, though not entirely free from droughts and floods. However, even under normal conditions, frequent famines and widespread starvation occurred.

Since it was not due to natural disasters, it must have been human-made. For example, due to the chaos and conflicts, the region suffered from more severe exploitation and oppression, whether in terms of grain, wealth, or manpower.

Compared to the northern military towns that often controlled several states, this region was repeatedly divided by various large and small forces, with up to seven or eight armed groups with titles such as military governor, defense commander, and garrison commander in a single state, not to mention the bandits and strongholds of the local gentry.

Because this area had been repeatedly contested in recent wars, many villages were as desolate as ghost towns.

Only when you got closer could you notice the signs of life, not from wild dogs or crows, but from a few people living like ghosts in the ruins.

These were the few survivors who had fled to the mountains to avoid the war and returned afterward. The fields and vegetable plots they had reclaimed, in the midst of the vast wasteland, were like patches on a scab, stubbornly existing.

Occasionally, when we stopped to rest in a village, the scarcity of resources was extreme. The best-off households ate coarse rice that had only been roughly husked, while ordinary families subsisted on thin vegetable soup made from sweet potatoes, yams, and wild vegetables.

Even this was for the main breadwinners of the household; others had to make do with dumplings made from sweet potato leaves and bran, their emaciated bodies clearly overworked and exhausted, giving them a prematurely aged appearance.

This reminded me of the heart-wrenching old photos from the so-called "Golden Decade" of the Republic of China, as promoted by those who romanticize that era.

However, seeing too much of this made one indifferent and hard-hearted. To some extent, these locals, struggling to survive in this chaotic world, also posed a certain level of potential danger and uncertainty.

At least, it wasn't the first time I had seen the marks of human tools on the bones of abandoned corpses, which wild dogs and crows could not have left.

Here, the most useful things were not money, but various kinds of food and other provisions, followed by silk and other daily necessities, or salt and iron products. Of course, to ensure a successful transaction and avoid becoming a missing person, one needed sufficient armed protection.

Thieves and other similar violations within the group were punished with death, or rather, most people could not afford the cost of such leniency.

Whenever we had the chance to stay in a city, I would try to collect some written materials, making clippings or reflections to deepen my understanding of this world and era.

We traveled southwest, passing through Hong County, Ji County, Yongqiao, Fuli, Linhuan, Lutang, and Xinxing, and finally stopped to rest in Shansang County, within the borders of Haozhou.

However, we did not enter the county town, which had been looted and burned, and its outer walls dismantled, but instead camped on a high ground outside the city.

This place was once the site of Tan Gongcheng, a military fortress built by Tan Daoji, the last famous general of the Southern Dynasty Liu Song, on a hill by the river. The old site had now become a small market town where merchants and travelers gathered.

When we arrived, a few more people had died, including some traveling merchants and laborers. Two of them had rolled down the hill, entangled with each other, and were found unrecognizable. Although I had some medical skills, I could not revive someone with half their head missing.

Another laborer had collapsed and could not get up. A traveler who had joined us halfway was attacked by wild dogs while relieving himself in the bushes. Although we quickly drove the beasts away, he had been bitten in the buttocks and was bleeding profusely. The last thing I saw was his brother, sobbing and trying to push the protruding organs back into his body.

In fact, people were dying and joining the group along the way. Fresh and old graves dotted the landscape, burying many lives, but even more people died without the time to be buried, becoming food for wild dogs and crows.

"The sun sets, swaying in the wind, the ancient path is faint and vague.

Morning clouds and evening rains, only the sound of 'wei da du wei da du lu.'

Memories search for spring in dreams, hard to find in autumn grass.

Gently coming, quietly going, only the sound of 'wei da du wei da du lu.'

Dust returns to dust, earth to earth, in the cycle of life and death.

Have you seen clearly, the flowers are not flowers, the mist is not mist?

Through the maze, there is a path, why be helplessly stubborn?"

The theme song of the historical tear-jerker movie "The Great Ming Plague," "Flowers Are Not Flowers," sung in a萝莉音 (Loli voice) by my student, had a particularly poignant and powerful effect in this desolate and ruined scene.

Even the people around us stopped to listen, putting down their work and standing still.

I then visited the special patient, checking and changing her bandages. She was wearing a light blue blouse and a loose, pleated skirt with a maroon border, her hair loosely tied to one side, looking graceful and womanly as she read a ledger-like book.

To be honest, when I first saw her like this, I was quite surprised by her transformation. She had a standard oval face, willow-like eyebrows, watery eyes, and cherry lips, fitting the classical standard of beauty. However, the things she did and the experiences she had were clearly beyond what a young lady of her age could handle.

I even found two short swords wrapped in silk among her belongings.

But I only knew that everyone in the caravan called her Shi Niang, and she had a significant background. She was one of the few people, besides the unseen owner of the caravan, who had real authority, even the head of the guards and the leader of the retainers had to show her respect.

However, even with her level, knowing that nothing could happen, there was still something about her that made me want to tease her, satisfying some psychological need.

She seemed quite used to my gaze, until I took out something.

"Put it on."

It was a piece of cloth with two half-circular pieces sewn on, filled with a little cotton, and ties at the ends.

It was a hastily made item, and to be honest, her sewing skills did not match her proficiency in calligraphy and reading.

The uneven stitches and threads were the result of multiple reworkings, and the cotton was unevenly distributed. However, she had sewn it for me with tears in her eyes, licking her fingers, which were punctured and bleeding, as a form of compensation. I had sucked on her fingers for a while and applied some wound-healing ointment.

"What is this?"

She looked at it with confusion.

"It's a chest pad."

I replied nonchalantly.

"Disgusting."

Her face changed.

"Don't you want to get better faster?"

I said with a serious expression.

"Having such a large mass hanging over your wound, it's not only unventilated but also pulls on the wound, making it harder to heal."

"Binding it with this will help it heal faster and make it easier to change the bandages."

"This way, you can do some light activities without pressing on the wound."

The last reason seemed to convince her, and she took it hesitantly. With the help of a servant, she put it on.

"It feels a bit different."

She moved her upper body, wincing as the movement pulled at her wound.

Of course, I thought to myself, it looked more uplifted, at least from D-cup to E-. She gently swayed her body, and it was clear that sitting up was better than lying down.

"Does it fit?"

"How did you know?"

She suddenly blushed slightly, realizing something.

"I measured it when I was changing your bandages."

"Shameless."

"I beg to differ, it's my duty."

"Actually, you should be grateful."

As I checked the sutures, feeling the warmth and breath of her body, I continued.

"At least those people didn't hurt you in a way that would require me to do a gynecological examination."

"Otherwise, you would have lost even more."

A roll of cloth flew past my head.

Although I had taken an invisible advantage, she later sent me a cooked fish as a form of thanks, which made me feel somewhat satisfied.

A few days later, we arrived at Xiacai City, in the southwest of Huabei, which belonged to Yingzhou. This was where the Fei River and the Huai River met, a key town on the northern border of Huabei.

Although it was only a medium-sized city, it was well-fortified with high walls and deep moats, and there were military forts and water camps to protect the main city. The city was bustling with people, and the inspections became very strict.

On the other side of the river was Shouzhou in Huainan, with Shou County, one of the ancient battlefields of the Battle of Feishui. It was also an important crossing point for the Huainan military town to attack.

Therefore, under the pretext of searching for spies:

"The Luoyang court issued a grand edict, accusing the Huainan towns of colluding with rebels and plotting to overthrow the court, and ordered the troops from Qing, Xu, Huai, and Si to jointly suppress them."

The leader of the retainers, who had gone out to gather information, brought me this news.