Natural Disaster or Man-Made?

The sixth year of Longwu, the Wei Manor. A sudden commotion threw the courtyard into an uproar as a tiny figure darted between corridors and pillars, running like the wind. Close behind, the steward gave chase, calling out breathlessly, "Slow down, slow down! Little Master, my little ancestor! If you take a tumble, it'll be the death of me!" The boy was Wei Yuan. Though he had only just turned three this year, he was extraordinarily tall and robust. Peasant children from the mountain villages were generally scrawny and small, so he already appeared taller than many seven- or eight-year-olds in town. Just then, the aroma of food drifted from the main hall. As if snagged out of thin air by a fishing line, little Wei Yuan wheeled around and dashed straight for it. In the main hall, Philanthropist Wei and his two wives were seated by the table, their meal already laid out. There were two earthenware basins: one held several flatbreads and brown multigrain steamed buns, while the other was filled with yellow millet porridge. Four dishes accompanied the staples: pickled beans, salted radish, stir-fried shredded radish, and a small plate of cured pheasant. Such was the midday meal of Philanthropist Wei, a notable magnate of the county. Little Wei Yuan had long been starving. Breaking open a steamed bun that was nearly larger than his own head, he stuffed the pheasant meat inside and buried his face in it, devouring the whole thing in the blink of an eye. One bun was not enough; he packed away two flatbreads and a bowl of porridge before he considered himself full. Once finished, he hopped down from his stool, bowed courteously to Philanthropist Wei and the two ladies, and slipped out the door in a flash. Philanthropist Wei and his two wives had barely touched their chopsticks, waiting until little Wei Yuan had eaten his fill and left the room before starting their meal. The Third Wife remarked, "Yuan'er truly grows so fast. He already eats as much as a grown man and minds his manners so well, yet he barely speaks a word. If only Fourth Sister were still here..." The Second Wife hurriedly tugged at her sleeve. Realizing her slip, the Third Wife promptly fell silent. Outside, little Wei Yuan's steps hesitated for a fraction of a heartbeat before he carried on toward the front courtyard as if he had heard nothing. Along the way, the older maids, handmaidens, and servants all stepped aside to bow to him, yet from further away, the servants' hushed murmurs drifted clearly into his ears. "The Little Master grows so fast, eating more than an adult. It's just a pity he has no mother." "Keep your voice down! The master forbade anyone from letting the Little Master know about that." "What's the harm? Who doesn't know the Fourth Mistress ran off with someone not long after giving birth to him? The master only claimed she died and put on a show of building a grave. But who could that fool?" Little Wei Yuan kept walking without pause, leaving the inner residence and stepping into the front courtyard. The front yard was rather boisterous, with hired hands, kitchen workers, and manor guards bustling back and forth. He walked over to an open ground where stone locks, spears, and staves were arrayed—the training grounds where the guards usually drilled. No sooner had he stepped into the clearing than he caught more whispered chatter. "The Little Master has quite the handsome face, but he doesn't look much like the master at all." "Do you think... he might be a bastard the Fourth Mistress conceived with some outsider..." "Keep it down!" "What's there to fear? There's no one nearby. Who could hear us?" Wei Yuan tried to shut the voices out of his head, yet they reached him with crystalline clarity. The ones gossiping were two guards thirty paces away. It was a fair distance, and they spoke in hushed tones; under ordinary circumstances, no one could possibly have overheard them. Yet Wei Yuan heard every syllable. In truth, no matter where he stood, he could hear the goings-on across most of the manor. In Wei Yuan's memory, at a certain moment in his earliest infancy, he had suddenly begun hearing these sounds. Having heard so much, before long he came to grasp the meaning behind most of the words. Rural folk were uncouth, and the servants' private gossip about their masters was naturally far from pleasant. Ever since he began to understand, Wei Yuan had grown increasingly quiet. Although he understood what people said, he could not understand why they said it. As usual, Wei Yuan walked up to the stone locks and lifted the ten-jin one he often toyed with. But after just a few lifts, he felt a strange itch deep inside his body. It was an itch that seeped straight from the marrow of his bones, something that could only be eased by running at full tilt or carrying heavy loads. The featherlight stone lock in his hand was no longer enough to bring him relief. Little Wei Yuan moved over to the large stone lock nearby. It weighed a full fifty jin and was the heaviest stone lock the guards used in their training. Little Wei Yuan took hold of it with both hands and gave a heave; the stone block lifted slightly off the ground. Just then, Wei Youcai's voice rang out from the distance. "Put it down, put it down this instant!" Little Wei Yuan turned his head to see Philanthropist Wei trotting over, scolding anxiously, "How dare you touch such a massive stone lock? What if you sprain your muscles or snap your bones? I know you enjoy playing with these, so I had someone craft a fine one just for you." With that, Wei Youcai produced a miniature stone lock carved from white marble. Exquisitely crafted, it weighed an entire jin. Little Wei Yuan had no choice but to take the jade lock. Though the trinket held virtually no weight in his grip, he could sense his father's genuine care. Reluctant though he was, he stepped away from the heavy stone lock and feigned interest, idly toying with the small jade piece. Wei Youcai wiped the sweat from Wei Yuan's brow. After all that fuss, he was drenched in sweat himself. Squinting, he looked up at the sky. Above, there was not a single cloud for ten thousand li; the scorching sun hung high, pouring light and heat like molten fire over the earth. Telling little Wei Yuan to go play on his own, Wei Youcai called the steward to his side and asked, "Today is the Beginning of Summer, isn't it?" "Master, the Beginning of Summer was yesterday." Philanthropist Wei frowned. "It's the Beginning of Summer already? How are things in the fields?" The steward pulled a bitter face. "The crops are just supposed to be heading, but we've had only a single rainfall in the past two months. They can't survive at all! Now all the fields bordering the mountains have suffered total crop failure. The ones close to the Tong River are slightly better off, but hauling water from the river is backbreaking labor. Down in the village, two men have already worked themselves to death!" "Ready the donkeys. We're going to the village to see for ourselves." A moment later, Philanthropist Wei set out toward the valley mouth, flanked by the steward and a guard. From the Wei Manor to the valley entrance was merely eight li. Just beyond lay Xiahe Village, bordering the Tong River and home to the finest farmland in the entire county. If the rains did not come soon, Xiahe Village would likely be the only place in all of Ye County with any harvest at all. Stepping out through the manor gates, all that met the eye was a blinding swathe of yellow. The fields were yellow, the roads were yellow, the trees were yellow, the mountains were yellow, and even the wind seemed tinged with yellow. As far as the eye could see, only the ancient tree behind the Wei Manor remained lush and verdant, the sole patch of green in the entire landscape. In truth, had guards not kept watch over it day and night, even that great tree would have been stripped bare long ago; in a single night, people would have peeled away every scrap of its bark. A sudden gust of wind swept up a hazy cloud of yellow grit, plastering Wei Youcai's face. Wei Youcai spat several times before clearing the dirt from his mouth. Wiping his face, he dismounted from the donkey, walked into the fields beside the road, and dug forcefully into the soil with his hands. All he scooped up was dry, crumbling dirt; the shoots along the ridges had already withered completely. Bracing his hands on his knees, Wei Youcai pushed himself up with great effort. The steward hurried over to support him. Panting for breath, Wei Youcai asked, "How are the tenant families faring?" "Master, the year before last was merely a bit hotter than usual, but last year brought hardly any rain at all. The fields yielded a poor harvest, yet the imperial court granted no tax relief. Every household has not only exhausted their stored grain, but they all owe us grain to some degree as well. Looking at how things stand this year, it'll most likely be a total crop failure. But our own stores aren't plentiful either. I'm afraid people will die..." Wei Youcai's face darkened. "If disaster relief doesn't arrive soon, it'll be too late. Has there been any word from the county?" The steward replied, "A few days ago, I made a special trip to the county seat to see Advisor Zhao at the yamen. The advisor said there's no news of disaster relief from above. What's more, several new taxes are to be added this year. They're called the Infantry Armor Tax, the Barbarian Campaign Tax, and the Ox Tax, or something like that." "What? An Ox Tax?" Philanthropist Wei dug at his ear. "An Ox Tax," the steward confirmed, nodding. He had double-checked with the advisor several times back then. Wei Youcai was astonished. "Has our county ever had an ox?" "In the last several decades at least, I've never heard of one," the steward said. In truth, it was not just Ye County; Fengyuan Commandery had lacked oxen since ancient times. Bordering the southern mountains, the local terrain and climate were peculiar, making it difficult for draft cattle to survive. All agricultural labor relied on the ding mule, an animal resembling a donkey but slightly smaller. For that matter, across the entire State of Ji, only two or three parts in ten had cattle, unlike the northern states where draft oxen were everywhere. "We don't even have oxen, so what Ox Tax are they levying?" The steward stole a glance at Philanthropist Wei's expression and whispered, "The advisor said that even if there are no oxen, that won't stop the imperial court from collecting an Ox Tax." Wei Youcai asked grimly, "What on earth is going on?" "Advisor Zhao said the court recently appointed a grand scholar from the north whose essays are renowned far and wide. Once that man took office, he began pushing reforms, proposing a method called 'equalized tax per capita'—taxing by head count. For every fifty households, the folk are deemed to share one ox and must pay the Ox Tax. They say even fishermen and boatmen have to pay it." Wei Youcai laughed in sheer fury. "Every sort of monster and fiend has crawled out into the open! He knows how to write essays? Can someone who knows how to write essays do something so utterly wicked?" The steward chimed in with indignation, "Perhaps it's precisely because he knows how to write essays that he can be so wicked!" Wei Youcai cursed a few more times, then fell silent. Only after a long while did he say, "Let us head back." "We're not going to Xiahe Village?" "No. It won't be long before the world turns upside down. Take a trip into the mountains and call Lao Liu back." The steward was startled. "Call Sixth Master back?" "In a year of great famine, there will surely be displaced refugees. Without Lao Liu, we'll be forced to join the famine-stricken wanderers ourselves." The steward's expression changed. Daring to ask no more, he led the donkey and returned to the manor under the blazing sun. Advisor Zhao's information proved accurate indeed. Barely two days later, the imperial decree increasing taxes reached the county. Ye County was remotely located, so the decree arrived latest; in other places, the imperial mandate had already landed half a month earlier. A wave of public resentment boiled over everywhere, and naturally, seeing that survival was impossible, many began plotting other ways to stay alive. In this land of Yongzhou, there had never been docile, law-abiding subjects who would quietly starve to death. On this morning, little Wei Yuan finished his breakfast and ran once more toward the open ground where the guards drilled. Just as he reached the edge of the clearing, a pair of large hands swept down from above, lifting him into the air like a cloud. It was a burly, bald-headed man with a face full of fierce muscle and a long scar cutting across his right cheek. Holding Wei Yuan up, the brute glared at him with an intimidating, menacing look. Little Wei Yuan looked left and right, finding himself held far higher than when anyone else carried him, looking down upon the crowns of everyone's heads. He was instantly delighted. The bald brute turned Wei Yuan's small face toward him and asked in surprise, "You're not afraid of me?" Little Wei Yuan asked in confusion, "Why should I be afraid of you?" Though it was their first meeting, Wei Yuan could sense that within this entire manor, this bald brute was the third person—after Wei Youcai and the steward—who felt genuine affection for him. Thus, no matter how the bald man bared his teeth or made grimaces, little Wei Yuan found it only amusing. The bald man burst into hearty laughter. "Good lad! Come, let's find your father!" Carrying Wei Yuan, the man strode over to the corner tower. Wei Youcai had changed into short, practical clothes and was testing the string on a hunting bow. However, Master Wei was clearly unaccustomed to physical labor; after pulling the string only twice, he was panting with exhaustion and forced to set it down. The bald man walked up before Wei Youcai and said, "Eldest Brother, I'm back!" Wei Youcai looked up at the burly man, who stood a full head taller than him, and then at Wei Yuan sitting quietly in the crook of the man's arm. A smile finally graced his weary face. "Ah, Lao Liu, it is good to have you back!" Bald Lao Liu said, "On my way here, I already saw plenty of refugees, all coming from the northeast. The main body has already reached thirty li away—thousands of people, and there are leaders among them." "What state are they in right now?" The bald man said darkly, "I slipped into their camp under cover of night. The leaders were boiling meat broth. The smell wasn't right; I fear it was human flesh." Wei Youcai said calmly, "When people are starved to desperation, they will eat anything. It is no surprise." He pondered for a moment, then said, "Thirty li away... that means they'll reach us the day after tomorrow. For thousands to arrive even in a remote place like ours, it seems the counties to the northeast are already emptied of living souls." The man said, "Eldest Brother, I brought three capable brothers this time, along with ten suits of leather armor and three fine, powerful bows. The refugees don't move fast. As long as we steer clear of the main horde, carving a path out won't be difficult. Eldest Brother, do we flee or do we hold?" Where starving hordes passed, not a blade of grass survived; that was no empty saying. The hoes in the refugees' hands could till the earth, but they could also till flesh. The Wei Manor numbered mere dozens of souls all told, yet they would have to face thousands of desperate refugees. Once the manor was breached, their entire line would be wiped out. Yet until the very last resort, no one wanted to abandon their ancestral home and become wandering refugees themselves. Wei Youcai's slender eyes narrowed into slits. After a long silence, he finally said, "We hold!" Bald Lao Liu's spirits rose, and he gave a ferocious grin. "Understood!" Over the two days that remained, everyone in the manor strained every muscle to work, raising the courtyard wall by half a cubit and bracing the weaker sections with scaffolding. During those two days, wherever Wei Youcai went, he carried little Wei Yuan along. Little Wei Yuan watched the burly man pull leather armor and heavy bows from leather cases, and watched each guard take up weapons and don armor. Then, on the morning of the third day, little Wei Yuan ate a hearty meal alongside everyone else. Shortly after dawn, billowing dust could already be seen at the far end of the main road, within which loomed an indistinct mass of figures beyond counting. At the sight, several guards atop the wall felt their legs trembling. Wei Youcai had long since changed into sturdy martial attire. Holding Wei Yuan, he climbed unhurriedly up to the corner tower. Ordering an armchair to be set atop it, he sat down with Wei Yuan in his lap. The steward and the bald man were already standing on the tower. Seeing Wei Youcai carry Wei Yuan up, both were taken aback. The bald man asked, "Eldest Brother, is it really appropriate to bring the child up here? What if..." Wei Youcai waved his hand. "It doesn't matter! Yuan'er matured early and understands everything now. It will do him good to see blood early on." The steward said, "Master, it's not suitable for you to be here either!" Wei Youcai gave a dry chuckle. "Pay no mind to me. If the refugees breach the manor, there's nowhere I could hide to escape death anyway. So today I shall sit right here and watch them break into my home and eat my flesh!" As they spoke, the horde of refugees closed in. Clothed in rags, their faces sallow and gaunt, their expressions were entirely consumed by savagery. Some gripped hoes, others brandished pitchforks, and many bore large patches of dark stains across their clothes that were unmistakably dried blood. There were also women in the ranks, all barely clad. Several young women were bound together with ropes, with scarcely a scrap of cloth upon them. At the sight of the grand Wei Manor ahead, a ravenous green glint lit up the refugees' eyes. Among the foremost ranks were several men in local dress, pointing eagerly toward the manor. The steward's sharp eyes recognized their faces, and he stomped his feet in a fury, cursing, "Isn't that Hu San? That son of a bitch! If we hadn't given him grain to save his life last year, would he have lived to see today?" Cursing was useless. Seeing the manor from afar, the refugees could restrain themselves no longer. Paying no heed to distance or order, they surged forward like a swarm of hornets. The refugees' roars were a chaotic din, sounding from a distance like a unified clamor for slaughter. Yet Wei Yuan heard every single phrase with immaculate clarity. Even with dozens of people shouting at once, each voice fell into his ears distinct and discernible. "There's food and women inside! Kill them, brothers!" "We're starving to death, while they live in luxury inside!" "Slaughter every last rich dog!" Watching the refugees swarm like wild beasts, Wei Yuan suddenly turned his head and asked, "Why do they want to kill us?" Wei Youcai replied gently, "Watch first. Keep watching, and you will understand." In no time at all, the refugees reached the foot of the wall, howling as they began to scramble upward. The outer wall of the Wei Manor was only a zhang high; a sturdier man could reach the top with a forceful leap. Those who were weaker could barely climb up when hoisted and pushed by those around them. The guards and servants of the Wei family stood atop the wall. Though terrified at first, in the face of life and death they threw themselves into a frenzy. Screaming, they hacked their blades mercilessly at the hands gripping the parapet and the heads poking over. Blood sprayed in torrents, and severed fingers and hands flew in all directions. There were simply too many refugees. Those trapped behind, unable to squeeze to the front, snatched stones from the ground and hurled them at the top of the wall. In moments, several guards were struck, their heads cracked open and bleeding, and some tumbled from the rampart. Yet those who fell gritted their teeth and scrambled back up, not even pausing to wipe the blood from their foreheads. Everyone knew that once the wall fell, their fate would be far more gruesome than merely being hacked to pieces. The corner tower of the Wei Manor stood three zhang high. The three men brought back by bald Lao Liu held bows, loosing arrow after arrow down below. Clearly trained in archery, their shots were swift and vicious. The steward stood on the tower as well, several colored flags laid at his feet. Waving the flags from time to time, he directed the guards while scouting targets, shouting out now and then, "That tall one in black over there is likely a ringleader—shoot him!" Under the steward's guidance, the three archers brought down seven or eight ferocious refugees in quick succession. Yet by now, everyone's eyes were crimson with bloodlust; the mob continued to storm the manor recklessly, clambering upward over the corpses and severed limbs of their companions. Directed by the steward, the dozens of guards and robust servant women supported one another, miraculously holding the line against the refugees' charge and keeping the wall secure. The bald brute patrolled back and forth, rushing wherever danger flared and repeatedly cleaving down refugees who managed to breach the parapet. Seated in Wei Youcai's lap, Wei Yuan watched silently as sharp arrows pierced through human bodies, pinning themselves into the earth trailed by rains of blood. He watched a nearby guard tremble all over, screaming as he hoisted a boulder and hurled it downward. He watched a refugee struck in the belly by an arrow roll on the ground in agony, desperately clutching the pant leg of a comrade—only for that comrade, finding him a nuisance, to turn and bury a sickle into his skull before charging toward the manor without a backward glance. The warm stench of blood mingled with dust, rolling upward in wave after wave. Unable to stomach it, a guard on the wall clutched a battlement and vomited violently, only to take a rock to the head an instant later. In a daze, he was dragged over the wall by the refugees, torn and bitten until he was reduced to a bloody pulp amid ceaseless, agonizing screams. On the tower, Wei Youcai sat composed, as if the horrific slaughter before him were merely children scuffling in play. Leaning against him, little Wei Yuan felt as though he leaned against an immovable mountain. The battle raged for the span of a meal. The guards were all gasping for breath, each bearing wounds, and gaps gradually opened in their defenses. A band of refugees finally swarmed over the wall and climbed onto the corner tower. A chaotic melee erupted on the tower at once! A burly refugee kicked the steward aside and charged toward Wei Youcai with a wicked grin. Wei Youcai showed no panic, rising and drawing his blade. Yet he had led a comfortable life for too long; his movements were sluggish. Before he could even raise his sword, a kick caught him square in the chest, sending him sprawling. The man raised a woodchopper's cleaver, about to bring it down on Wei Youcai's head! Seeing the cleaver about to fall, little Wei Yuan's mind suddenly went blank. Grabbing a short spear from the floor, he thrust it straight into the refugee's belly! The man had seen that Wei Yuan was only a child and had paid him no mind; he never expected the thrust to carry such immense force. Shocked and enraged, he kicked little Wei Yuan away and pulled the short spear out with a violent jerk. A jet of blood spurted from the wound, drenching little Wei Yuan from head to toe. The man's strength instantly drained like water, his legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor. Little Wei Yuan suddenly charged forward, seizing the spear to wrench it back. The burly refugee felt a surge of strength that could not possibly belong to a child, and the spear was ripped from his grip in an instant. Taking another step forward, little Wei Yuan thrust again, driving the spear into the man's chest. In searing pain, the refugee gripped the shaft with one hand to wrestle with Wei Yuan, while the other groped for the cleaver, raising it to strike at Wei Yuan's head. Little Wei Yuan did not even glance at the cleaver above him. Marshalling every ounce of strength in his body, he drove the short spear into the refugee's heart inch by inch. The refugee suddenly met Wei Yuan's eyes. The pupils were bottomless, as though concealing another world. The small face was entirely serene, as if he were not taking a life, but merely performing an ordinary chore. Looking at that face, an inexplicable chill seized the refugee's heart. In that moment, his final breath gave out, and the short spear sank deep into his chest with a squelch. By then, the steward and the others had finally cut down all the refugees on the tower, hurling their corpses over the edge one by one. The refugee horde fell into disarray, their momentum instantly shattered. Seeing their morale break, the steward immediately seized a red banner and hurled it forcefully into the center of the refugee mass. Fighting on the wall, the bald man's eyes lit up. He grinned savagely. "Finally, the time has come! Brothers, charge with me!" Leaping down from the wall, he sent several refugees flying upon impact and cut a straight path toward where the red banner had landed. Five more guards clad in leather armor emerged from within the manor; they had taken no part in the previous defense, conserving their strength all along. They too leapt from the wall, following close behind the bald brute as they drove into the center of the mob. With a furious roar, a dense, bloody glow erupted around the bald man like a torch of crimson fire! With a single forward slash, three refugees were cleaved in two; with a sweeping backhand stroke, seven or eight around him were severed at the waist! Once the bloody light enveloped him, every strike carried terrifying power. Leading this elite squad as though marching through an uninhabited land, he cut down over a hundred refugees in the blink of an eye, smashing straight into the heart of their formation. The refugees' morale collapsed completely. Like a mountain crumbling, the entire horde broke and scattered in an instant. The steward finally let out a breath of relief, slumping to the ground as he muttered, "Thank goodness they were only a rabble." Only as the tension broke did a searing agony flare across the steward's body; without his knowing, someone had slashed his back during the fight. In that brief clash, several hundred corpses of refugees were left strewn outside the Wei Manor, alongside many with severed limbs who had not yet died, lying on the ground in continuous, wailing agony. Many of the guards on the wall were ordinary peasants by trade; having never witnessed such carnage, some leaned against the wall retching, while others wept and laughed in hysteria. Wei Youcai scrambled to his feet and pulled little Wei Yuan tightly into his arms, checking him all over for wounds. Only when he confirmed that little Wei Yuan had no injuries and that the blood belonged entirely to the enemy did he let out a long breath, his face pale with lingering terror. Wei Youcai patted his own chest, then used his sleeve to wipe the blood and grime from little Wei Yuan's face. Lifting his small face, little Wei Yuan asked once more, "Why did they want to kill us?" Carrying him, Wei Youcai stood up and walked to the edge of the tower. Pointing toward the northeast, he said, "They were originally people just like us. It's only because they are too hungry that they want to eat our grain. But there isn't enough grain, so they must eat us as well to survive. If we were starved beyond endurance and forced to search for food elsewhere, we would turn into something just like them." Wei Youcai then pointed toward the southwest. "Over there, beyond these mountains, there are many people who do not look like us—if we can even call them people. Whether they are hungry or not, they want to eat us." "Those are the ones who eat us directly." Wei Youcai waved his hand toward the north. "Far off in those directions, there are many grand cities. Those who dwell in the heart of those cities eat people too, only they don't do it directly, and they do it with far more refined manners. But when it comes to devouring people, they eat the most of all." Little Wei Yuan listened, half-understanding. Wei Youcai smiled faintly, then pointed up at the sky. "If we stood up there, perhaps what we saw would be different. But from where we stand now..." "...This is a world that eats people." Little Wei Yuan knitted his small brows, pondering hard, and asked, "Why must people eat people? People don't even taste good." Wei Youcai swept his hand across the horizon. "Because there is only so much land, and it cannot feed all these people. Whether through eating, killing, or starving, a batch of people must die. Once enough people have died, things will quiet down for a while."