Chapter 85

In the jurisdiction of Dujidao, in Heyang County of Heyang Prefecture,

Chen Yuan, known as the King of Street Vendors, was on the run. Of course, he was running because he was being forced into marriage, a terrifying reality he could not avoid.

Due to the renewed warfare in the north and south, various taxes and levies had skyrocketed. In contrast, making a living in Luoyang had become increasingly difficult, with even local residents facing starvation.

For a small vendor like Chen Yuan, who was born and raised locally, the impact was immediate and severe. The familiar faces at the market stalls were becoming fewer and fewer, and the news was always about families running out of food, or families disappearing overnight after accumulating debts, or families committing suicide by swallowing soil or hanging themselves, only to be discovered days later.

During this time, he had visited the soup kitchens at the city gates multiple times, drinking thin gruel mixed with sand. Unfortunately, the clear broth seemed unable to replenish the energy lost from the long queues, making him feel increasingly emaciated.

Since that day, he had not seen his kind-hearted neighbor, Brother Pengju, again. He then had to endure even stricter inspections and crackdowns. The officials who had managed to avoid layoffs acted with even more impunity, overturning stalls and confiscating goods as their most common practices.

Chen Yuan could not escape this misfortune either. The fake antiques he sold, though not worth much, were smashed in front of him by the officials, leaving him in tears. Although he feigned madness to avoid physical punishment, he overheard the officials' conversation while begging for water at a teahouse.

It turned out that his disaster was the result of his prospective father-in-law, Mr. Chen, bribing the officials. The father could no longer tolerate his lazy and bad-tempered daughter, who was becoming a laughingstock among the neighbors. He was eager to have a grandson.

Therefore, Chen Yuan had to sneak back home at midnight to pack his belongings and flee. If he stayed in Luoyang, he would be forced to live a lifeless existence under the weight of his future wife, a prospect that made him shudder.

Brother Pengju had joined the army in Dengfeng. With a glimmer of hope, Chen Yuan decided to seek him out. If he couldn't find him, he would temporarily join the Shaolin Temple as a novice to get by.

His stomach growled more frequently. He estimated the few coins he had left, the result of pawning everything movable from his home. He approached a lonely roadside inn, eyeing the steamed buns in the bamboo steamer.

Next to it, a rough charcoal message on a plain cloth read, "Large buns, ten coins; small buns, three coins."

After much haggling, he reluctantly handed over a large coin for three small buns. He devoured one in a few bites, and despite the gritty texture, it still tasted sweet and delicious. He then begged for some water from the steamer to rinse his mouth.

Halfway through the second bun, he reluctantly put it away, ignoring his growling stomach. He collected the crumbs that fell on his clothes and licked them, finding some comfort.

Dengfeng was still a distance away, and he needed to consider his expenses for the next few days. As he was thinking, a large crowd of people, many barefoot and bald, came running towards him in panic.

"What's happening?"

Chen Yuan opened his mouth to ask, but his legs, weakened from lack of rest and food, could not lift him. He was quickly swept up in the crowd.

Dazed and confused, he was pushed and shoved, eventually collapsing and being trampled by the crowd. He lost consciousness.

When he woke up, spitting out a mouthful of blood, the sun was setting, and the road was littered with shoes, headscarves, and piles of excrement. His clothes were covered in footprints, but fortunately, no vital parts were injured. He lay on the ground, slowly regaining his strength.

The roadside inn was gone, replaced by a pile of unrecognizable debris. After a while, he managed to sit up and found that the buns in his pocket were now covered in mud, and his coins were missing.

Overwhelmed with sorrow, he burst into tears. But he only managed a half-cry before stopping, as a group of people with weapons approached.

Chen Yuan, trembling in fear, was surrounded by several men with knives.

"Found a spy."

"What should we do with him?"

"Should we cut him up or boil him?"

He cowered in fear.

"He's just a poor man. Don't be too hard on him."

A familiar voice spoke up.

"Let's keep moving. We don't have much time."

The men reluctantly stepped back.

Chen Yuan, no longer fearing, quickly stood up and shouted with all his might.

"Is it Brother Pengju?"

The man, who was indeed Pengju, whom Chen Yuan had been looking for, walked over.

"I finally found you."

Tears streamed down his face.

After a moment, Chen Yuan drank some water, ate two dry buns, and applied some medicinal oil. He then looked around.

There were hundreds of people, most armed with knives and spears, a few with pitchforks and rakes. Pengju, surrounded by them, wore a helmet and armor, looking like a respected leader. Chen Yuan cautiously asked,

"Brother Pengju, have you become an army commander?"

"Army?"

The nearby men burst into laughter.

"This guy actually says..."

Chen Yuan was confused by their mocking smiles, but they didn't seem malicious.

"We are all rebels now."

Pengju sighed.

"Even if we were once in the army, we are now rebels."

A bearded man added,

"You're the King of Street Vendors, right? You've eaten our food, so you're part of our gang now."

Pengju then briefly explained what had happened. They, along with other laid-off officials and laborers from Luoyang and the surrounding areas, had joined the army in Songyang. However, they were deceived. The so-called new camp was not a combat unit but a labor force for various tasks. They were strictly confined and not allowed to leave.

After two months of digging sand, they received no promised settlement money or pay, only moldy rice and rotten vegetables. The harsh conditions led to unrest, and the leaders were severely punished. But the resentment and anger only grew.

Then, they were told they would be sent to Bianzhou to repair the river embankment, a dangerous task usually assigned to destitute refugees or criminals. This was the final straw. They mutinied, killed the officers and guards, seized weapons, and began looting and burning in Dengfeng.

Pengju's group was one of the larger ones, but they seemed to have other plans.

"By the way, how is Luoyang?"

Pengju hesitated, then whispered,

"I don't know if this rebellion will affect our families."

"Brother Pengju, do you know..."

Chen Yuan's tears fell again.

"Your mother has passed away."

"How did she die?"

Pengju, enraged, grabbed Chen Yuan's shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain. He then released him, feeling apologetic.

"She died from overwork and hunger."

Chen Yuan, rubbing his shoulder, said sadly,

"How could this happen? I left her enough money and rice to last half a year."

"Prices in Luoyang have skyrocketed, and even ordinary families struggle."

"Moreover, several new taxes have been added."

"Didn't Magistrate Zheng promise to exempt us from service and miscellaneous taxes?"

"Magistrate Zheng has passed away. The new county magistrate, citing your dismissal, demanded the arrears."

Chen Yuan paused.

"Your mother had to take on work to make ends meet. Her eyesight gradually failed."

"By the time the neighbors raised money for a doctor, it was too late. She only wanted you to focus on your military service."

"Filial piety is a duty, but I have failed."

Hearing this, Pengju stood up, let out a long cry, and tore his clothes, revealing the words "Serve the Country with Utmost Loyalty" on his back. He knelt towards Luoyang, tears streaming down his face, and the ground was covered in dust.

"Is this the will of heaven?"

After his outburst, Pengju's face was filled with sorrow as he muttered,

"Let's head east, raid Rongyang, and seize boats to join Liangshan."

"Even if we die, we must stir up this cruel world."

...

In the eastern part of Luoyang, in the residence of Wang Gong, the Minister of War, Gao Qian, was playing chess with a colleague. He had just received news of the mutiny in Dengfeng. He smiled, made a move, and swept a few pieces off the board.

"The gentlemen of the court are too hasty. They have lost another hand in the canal camp."

"Well done."

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