"Father, can A-Cheng really pull this off?" Once the others had left, Liu Huzi was the first to lose his patience.
"It'll be tough," his elder brother Liu Sheng answered. "Father made it abundantly clear just now. If it were only a few dozen or a couple of hundred people, with A-Cheng's ability, let alone Father, even I'd believe it. But more than two thousand mouths—who could bear such a burden? Not even the God of Jiang descending to the mortal realm could do it! Don't you go thinking about getting yourself mixed up in this."
"Then when he can't hold out any longer, will he really come find us in Jiangsheng?" Ignoring his elder brother, Liu Huzi pressed his father.
"That is the crux of it," Liu Ren Gong said slowly, sitting cross-legged on the cold ground. "I only fear that even if he fails, and even if he doesn't stubbornly run himself into a dead end, he still won't come looking for us... You don't understand. Just from the way the boy was willing to shoulder this burden today, he is clearly no ordinary creature of a shallow pond... A person like that, even if he cannot hold on, will find another way forward. Why would he ever come back?"
"Then..." Liu Huzi clearly could not contain himself.
"I know what you want to say. In truth, when I was young during the southward crossing of the gentry, I witnessed that sort of youthful heroism too. Back then, I nearly abandoned our family holdings to follow such a man." Liu Ren Gong turned his head and fixed his gaze on his youngest son.
"What happened to him later?" Liu Ahu asked, brimming with curiosity. "I mean the man Father almost followed back then?"
"Later on, he achieved quite a few things. It's just a pity that about ten years ago, he drowned around Zhucheng in Jingzhou," Liu Zhi replied calmly. "And the people who followed him back then drowned with him."
Liu Huzi was struck instantly dumb.
On the other side of the camp, Liu Cheng walked out wearing his new boots. Dressed similarly, Liu Jili came up to meet him at once and asked bluntly, "You've really made up your mind?"
"Yes," Liu Cheng replied crisply. "Let's head back and talk."
"Speak," Liu Jili said the moment they returned to the haystack, suppressing the turmoil in his chest as he sat down on a tree fork serving as a stool.
"Brother Jili, as I told you before, I didn't give you an answer these past few days because I was running the numbers," Liu Cheng explained earnestly.
"I know. You've fended me off with that excuse plenty of times. So, did you finish calculating? Just how many supplies will it take for the remaining two thousand-plus people to survive this winter?" Liu Jili began with a cold sneer, but by the end he sounded exasperated. "This is two thousand people! If our estimates fall short by even a fraction, it will be beyond the two of us to fix. When the time comes, will we flee in panic and throw away an entire winter for nothing?
"A-Cheng, I still stand by what I said: we'd be better off catching up with Liu Ren Gong right now, tending the straw sandal stall to save up some coin first. And didn't you say it yourself? We could start with the logistics of the military garrisons, see if there's an opening to get involved, and then turn to Gao Jian to secure a post in provisions!
"If you ask me, that's an excellent path. If you have your heart set on the Northern Expedition, with your ability, you might well forge a path to becoming an adjutant, climbing up the ranks through the system of Jingkou's thirteen garrisons until you're an adjutant in some high command. Then, once you win the appreciation of a prominent patron, you'll have an avenue to join the Northern Expedition... Even if that fails, you can still earn some coin. Why bother with these people?"
"There aren't two thousand people..."
"What?"
"I said there aren't two thousand people." Liu Cheng leaned forward, holding up three fingers. "When the group first set out from Pengcheng, there were roughly three thousand people—about a thousand households. But after the plundering along the Huai River, people grew unsettled, so by the time we reached Jingkou, our numbers had already fallen short of that. Over these past few days, another two or three hundred have left.
"Once Ren Gong leads the Liu clan toward Jiangsheng, I reckon the departure won't just be those two or three hundred households of seven or eight hundred kinsmen—it will exceed a thousand people. There will surely be others who instinctively cling to him, following along even if there is no foothold in Jiangsheng and the garrison and authorities might turn them away.
"And that's not all. Once Ren Gong is gone, among those left behind, there will certainly be ruffians and down-and-out commoners stirring up trouble, coherent village groups that will leave together, and able-bodied men scattering elsewhere in search of a way out...
"So, if we can disperse and suppress the ruffians, let the village groups with their own clans go, and reel back the able-bodied men who went looking for opportunities but found none, we'll only need to manage about a thousand people in the end."
"About a thousand?" Liu Jili froze slightly.
"That's right. If you run the numbers carefully, there should only be about a thousand." Liu Cheng lowered two fingers, leaving a single one waving before the other's eyes. "I've already scouted the camp."
"Even a thousand people is impossible to sustain through winter, isn't it?" Liu Jili pondered for a moment. His tone relaxed considerably, yet a lingering sense of helplessness remained. "I know two thousand and one thousand aren't the same thing, but a thousand-plus is still more than we can shoulder."
"If only a thousand or so remain, and we can stop the ruffians from destroying the firewood in these camps, we won't actually need to worry about winter fuel," Liu Cheng pointed ahead as he continued. "That takes care of one essential supply."
Liu Jili was taken aback again, then a look of realization dawned on him. His tone was no longer as heated as before. "You mean, once the crowd dwindles to about a thousand, the firewood stockpiled this entire time will actually be enough?"
"Exactly. That's the firewood accumulated over the whole autumn by three thousand people," Liu Cheng nodded. "Besides, firewood is the easiest resource to gather around here, so there is plenty of it... And because wood is heavy and cumbersome, those leaving have no reason to haul it along."
Liu Jili still shook his head. "But surviving the winter takes more than just firewood."
"I know. There are two other critical elements: grain and winter clothing... Let me be clear upfront: I don't have the means to provide winter clothes. How much of that hundred bolts of cloth distributed earlier remains is up to fate. To claim I could find another hundred bolts would be an outright lie. Therefore, if it snows, I'll admit defeat and leave... There's no shame in that." Liu Cheng conceded that liability first. "Brother Jili, you've been in Jingkou for two or three years... Tell me, how many times did it snow over the past two years? How many times did it freeze?"
"It snowed once, and there was no hard freeze," Liu Jili replied slowly, seeming eager to make something clear. "Yet people still freeze to death when it snows and when the snow melts. Snow isn't just cold—you can't go out to forage, and the straw stacks and makeshift shacks get soaked... It isn't like rain. Rain really evaporates quite quickly, but snow... You haven't seen southern snow. It's like... like..."
"Like the final bundle of straw that breaks a mangy wretch's back," Liu Cheng prompted, pointing at the haystack beside them.
"Right." Liu Jili breathed another sigh of relief, keenly sensing from that apt metaphor that Liu Cheng truly understood what southern snow meant for refugees.
"So, snowfall is a natural calamity. We do our utmost, but if a calamity strikes, it isn't for lack of ability on our part, nor is it our duty. When that happens, we leave. How about that?" Liu Cheng continued patiently leading him along.
"If it snows, we leave?" Liu Jili nodded, already persuaded in his heart because the metaphor was simply too fitting.
"Yes!"
"What we need to do is fill the winter grain... deficit for about a thousand people?" Liu Jili seemed to realize further. "After all, they've been stockpiling grain all this time too."
"Yes."
"How do you plan to raise... the grain?" Liu Jili pressed. "Is that bit of silver you have enough?"
"The silver definitely won't be enough, so we must use every means possible to gather it," Liu Cheng replied earnestly. "Winter is already upon us; there is no point talking about long-term plans... We'll keep having these people forage for their own food. Women and children will have to search for food too—gathering grass seeds in the wilderness, or even begging. There's no shame in begging as long as they bring back food. We must get moving ourselves as well. Without straw sandals, we can still sell split firewood. We'll sort the firewood by length, size, and wood type; we'll burn the inferior wood ourselves and pool the good wood to sell for grain. On top of that, we must exhaust every outside connection: borrow from the Way of the Five Pecks of Rice, seek relief from the authorities, and sponge off the Xie family. Anything that can bring in a bit of money or grain will help.
"Furthermore, all the grain that comes into our hands must follow a rationing system—measuring the rice according to the days remaining, with keeping people alive as our top priority... As I said before, Brother Jili, we just do our utmost. In a situation like this, no matter how much or how little we achieve, no one will be in any position to blame us."
"Even so..." Liu Jili rubbed the side of his nose, still looking somewhat troubled. "There is still one problem."
"Go on."
"According to what you said, the Liu kinsmen will be gone, the coherent village groups of other surnames will be gone, the ruffians will leave, and the able-bodied men will scatter too. Then what will be left? Even if there are some men, the vast majority will still be women and children... Straining with all our might, with the chance of having to abandon it halfway through, just to win the hearts of a thousand women and children—is it worth it?" Liu Jili pressed. "What use could they possibly be to your ambitions?"
"For your ambitions and mine, these people are indeed of no practical use," Liu Cheng agreed almost immediately. "Never mind something as far-off as a Northern Expedition—even if our goal were merely to build a fortified manor for a spell of peace, they would be nothing but burdens."
"Then..."
"However, letting every refugee commander, manor lord, Celestial Master Taoist, garrison officer, and even the northern Chuzi in the roadside markets throughout Jingkou know that two down-and-out gentlemen of great clans—scions of the Pengcheng Liu clan who came from Hebei with nothing to their names, wearing clothes given by others—saved a thousand helpless women and children through the winter without seeking anything in return... Letting them know that will be useful." Liu Cheng sighed, enunciating every word. "Brother Jili, can you calculate this ledger? If you can, are you willing to join me in this venture?"
Now, these words of Liu Cheng's were not mere rhetoric; they were the fruit of days of careful deliberation... The earlier matter of distributing the cloth had driven home the sheer difficulty of managing a group of several thousand people, especially in an era like this, when he—an outsider and a refugee—naturally lacked prestige and resources. Then came the trip to Mount Beigu; after his surge of indignation, he had to admit that trying to build a fortified manor without official office, family pedigree, or reputation was nothing more than a castle in the air... Yet such was his nature: his anger quickly faded, replaced by the question of how to face reality, followed by this meticulous investigation, analysis, and pivot in strategy.
Naturally, the pitch itself had to be tailored to its audience. These words were indeed aimed squarely at the camel, Liu Jili: You want to cultivate a reputation to become a high official, yet you have nothing? How does this plan sound to you? Had he been winning over Liu Huzi this time, he surely would have asked whether he wanted to sweep away the local ruffians together—and preserve his father's prestige in the process.
Sure enough, halfway through the speech, Liu Jili caught on, and by the end, his breathing had grown heavy.
A moment later, his breathing steadied, and Liu Jili pressed, "Are your calculations reliable?"
No sooner had he asked than he could not help slapping a hand to his forehead—what was there to ask? Liu Ren Gong was about to leave anyway; wouldn't he see the truth with his own eyes soon enough?
Chapter 23