August was drawing to a close, and autumn was approaching. The nights were growing chilly. At night, Qiu-shi would hold her child to sleep, but later, Wang-shi told her to bring the child and sleep in the bedding with Xu Yue and the others.
At this moment, Tong-shi had already led her son up and fed him some water. As she was organizing the Xu family’s belongings in the shack, she saw Qiu-shi still sitting on her knees inside, holding her child, and called out to her.
Qiu-shi did not respond. Her eyes were wide open, staring blankly at something, as if her soul had been sucked away.
Tong-shi frowned, a bad premonition rising in her heart. She crawled into the shack and lightly touched Qiu-shi’s shoulder.
Only then did Qiu-shi lift her eyelids and look at her listlessly.
Tong-shi’s heart skipped a beat, and she asked softly, "What’s wrong with you? You look like you’ve lost your soul."
Hearing her inquiry, Qiu-shi’s blank face suddenly collapsed, and she looked down at the child in her arms.
Tong-shi followed her gaze. The child, who was just over a year old, was extremely thin, looking much like a six-month-old baby, which made his head look disproportionately large for his body.
At this moment, the child’s eyes were closed, and his small face was a grayish-white; he had been dead for quite some time.
Tong-shi’s hands trembled as she checked the child’s breath. Shocked, she gasped and instinctively pulled her own young son into her arms, holding him tightly.
"My little son is gone." Qiu-shi’s words seemed stuck in her throat, spoken with immense difficulty.
She looked down at the child in her arms, her eyes filled with sorrow, yet she couldn't even cry.
"Since he was born, this was the first time he had such thick porridge. He ate that half-bowl all up yesterday, and he looked so energetic. He even had the spirit to play with me for a while last night before he fell asleep."
Qiu-shi rambled on, recalling the child’s state from yesterday, a smile appearing on her face.
"It’s better that he’s gone. In this life, choosing me as his mother meant he never had a single full meal. I hope in the next life... you choose a good family and don't come to me again."
Tong-shi didn't know how to comfort her, so she could only listen in silence.
"Sister-in-law, please, don't tell anyone. I want the child to leave peacefully. I don't dare let those beasts know. I’m afraid that if they..."
Afraid of what they would do, Qiu-shi didn't say it, but Tong-shi knew. That pack of beasts didn't just trade children to eat; they wouldn't even spare those who had just been buried. If they found out, the child would never be able to rest in peace.
On this side, Tong-shi and Qiu-shi hid the truth of the child’s death, sitting in the shack waiting for nightfall to bury him and let him rest in the earth.
Meanwhile, on Xu Yue’s side, they were waiting for the city gates to open and the officials to bring out the hot porridge, but there was no movement from the gates for a long time.
The refugees who had arrived earlier confidently reassured the restless crowd behind them, "The Prefect is benevolent; he said he wouldn't ignore us, so don't worry. Perhaps the officials were delayed by something; they’ll come eventually."
The restless crowd quieted down again.
Everyone waited for another hour. It was almost noon, and the city gates still showed no signs of movement.
Vaguely, they could hear the sounds of cold weapons clashing and the shouting of commoners coming from inside the city.
The refugees in front of the porridge shed grew increasingly agitated. Without knowing who started it, everyone swarmed toward the city gate, pounding wildly on the heavy doors.
Hitting and kicking wasn't enough, so they picked up hoes, wooden sticks, and other objects, attempting to break into the city.
Pushed by so many people, the heavy wooden doors didn't budge an inch.
The Xu family stood at the edge of the crowd, looking at one another. They no longer held any hope for today’s porridge.
If they were going to serve porridge, they would have done it by now. Why wait until this late?
"Something happened in the city," Xu Da stated firmly.
His hearing was sharp; he had heard the sounds of soldiers clashing inside.
He hadn't expected the world to be in such chaos. Not only were provinces fighting each other, but even commanderies were locked in bitter conflict.
The indignant crowd grew larger and larger, so Xu Da and Wang-shi simply took the children back to the shack.
They hadn't eaten all morning and were starving. Xu Da took out a few taro roots and gave two to each of his two capable younger brothers, so everyone could fill their stomachs in case of any emergencies.
Another hour passed. Around three in the afternoon, the heavy city gates, which had been pounded until they rattled, suddenly swung open.
Before the refugees could even show a happy smile, they were trampled underfoot by a cavalry charging out.
With a sweep of iron spears, the refugees blocking the gate were mowed down like leeks, falling row after row.
"The soldiers are killing people!!!"
Screams erupted, and the refugees who had been blocking the gate scrambled in all directions.
The black-faced officer leading them shouted directly, "Seize all these rebels who attempted to break into the city!"
The group of refugees who had been hitting the gate were stunned.
Who were the rebels?
They were clearly law-abiding citizens!
Some hurriedly knelt to explain they weren't rebels, but before they could finish, their heads were chopped off. Blood splattered three meters away, terrifying everyone.
The Xu family, witnessing this from a corner, was also dumbfounded. How could the soldiers of this era be even more terrifying than bandits?
They had traveled so far, and just when they finally saw a glimmer of hope, that tiny bit of hope had been crushed to pieces by reality.
Surely no other transmigrators were as unlucky as their family?
Heaven, you have no heart!
Just as the five members of the Xu family were cursing the heartless heavens in their hearts and preparing to flee again, the one-sided slaughter suddenly stopped.
A few of those who had been the most aggressive in pounding the gate were dragged out and beheaded as a warning.
Suddenly, the open space under the city gate was filled with kneeling refugees, so quiet that only the sound of terrified breathing could be heard.
The same black-faced officer, resting his hand on the sword at his waist, said to the disaster victims before him
"The Prefect has passed away from illness. The affairs of the commandery are temporarily being handled by the Commandery Assistant. During the period of mourning for the Prefect, no porridge sheds will be set up, but you may enter the city to pay your respects!"
After saying this, he pointed to a middle-aged man dressed as a scholar standing nearby and told everyone that if they wanted to enter the city, they should look for him.
Then, leaving twenty soldiers behind, he took the rest and left.
The city gates were wide open, but looking at the soldiers standing at the entrance with white-stained blades, no one dared to try and rush the gate again.
Those who were a bit bolder tremblingly asked the scholar how to enter the city.
The scholar flicked his wide sleeves, sat cross-legged behind a wooden table set up by the soldiers, and spoke with a look of compassion
"Pay ten coins per person to enter the city and pay your respects."
Seeing the miserable looks on everyone’s faces, he calculated, "In a normal year, one shi of millet is 300 coins. This year, there is much warfare, and many areas in our province are suffering from drought, so grain prices have risen slightly. One shi of millet is 900 coins; ten coins is merely a catty and a half of millet."
The light, airy word "merely" made the refugees weep in despair.
They didn't even have a single grain of rice, let alone a catty and a half!
In the corner, Wang-shi looked at Xu Da, and Xu Da looked at the ten wuzhu coins he had sewn into the lining of his chest. His sun-darkened face was so gloomy that water could have dripped from it.
Clearly, if they couldn't pay the ten-coin head tax per person, they couldn't enter the city.
If they couldn't enter the city, they couldn't find work. If they couldn't find work, they couldn't eat, and in the end, they would starve to death.
Of course, one could leave and go to another city.
But they had already reached their limit just getting here; where else could they possibly go?
For a time, the area under the city gate was filled with weeping. It seemed even the heavens couldn't bear to watch, as the clear sky gradually turned overcast.