So many people in this village bore the surname Niu that Li Banfeng had assumed it was called Niu Village.
Only later did he learn its name was Laobing Village. It held over a hundred households, totaling more than five hundred souls.
In Sandaoling, it was one of the very few villages where people still had food to eat.
That they could still eat with the insect blight raging to such an extent came down primarily to three conditions.
The first condition was the ability to plant.
Li Banfeng met their Tillage Cultivator, a man in his forties named Niu Jingchuan. He had cultivated a variety of special seeds that, sown in the dead of winter, could yield grain within the month.
Li Banfeng was astonished. "Growing crops like this, couldn't you produce twelve harvests a year?"
"No way!" Niu Jingchuan shook his head. "These are rapid-crops. Plant them a few times, and the soil is ruined. With rapid-crops, we usually only grow two rotations, and then the land has to lie fallow for a year to recover. Sandaoling has fertile soil, so at most we can squeeze out three rotations in a single year, but next year the soil will still need to rest for a full year."
Niu Jingchuan said no more. He walked into the fields, inspecting every crop one by one.
This Tillage Cultivator was the sole reason Laobing Village had held out until now.
Yet having the means to produce food meant nothing if you couldn't defend it.
The second condition was the ability to hold their ground, and the people of Laobing Village truly knew how to defend what was theirs!
The grain harvested in autumn had been wiped clean by the mosquitoes, so the Tillage Cultivator immediately sowed a rapid-crop.
From the moment the grain began heading, mosquitoes swarmed to attack. The first rapid-crop yielded less than twenty percent of normal.
By the second rotation, the villagers had gained experience. They released smoke and scattered repellent, and once the heads formed, the young and old of the entire village stood watch day and night, managing to save half the harvest.
Once reaped, the grain went straight into cellars. Guards were stationed at the cellar openings in shifts, and every hour, someone went down to inspect the stores. If they saw a mosquito, they killed it; until every last mosquito was dead, no one came back up!
That was their attitude toward staying alive!
The third condition was knowing how to distribute the grain.
The distribution method was simple: house by house, calculated strictly by headcount, each person received only two days of rations. Storing food at home was forbidden, or it would all end up feeding the mosquitoes.
The method was simple, but executing it was anything but.
Anyone who knew the distributor would naturally want a little extra.
If one person got more, others would want more as well.
When too many people got extra, someone was bound to get shortchanged.
And once too many were shortchanged, some might stop waiting for rations and simply turn to looting.
Laobing Village took great pains with grain distribution. Each household sent one person to bag the grain.
Once bagged, no one was allowed to take it, nor could anyone leave the granary. The bags were stacked at the granary door, and another person from the household came to collect them.
However many members a household had, they took that many bags of rice; households with Food Cultivators received an extra allotment.
These rice sacks were made collectively by the village and looked identical. No one could tell which sack belonged to whom; you got whichever you picked up.
Methods of cheating still existed, such as making a mark on the grain itself.
Yet cheating was difficult and carried severe consequences: anyone caught was banished from the village.
With the grain distributed fairly, the people were united in purpose. By all rights, Laobing Village ought to have survived this insect blight.
Yet an accident had occurred just a few days ago.
A Thief Cultivator from outside the village had come to steal grain. His methods were so deft that he slipped right past the village guards.
Losing a small amount of grain to him would not have mattered much, but the wicked Thief Cultivator failed to close the granary doors behind him. Mosquitoes swarmed inside and ruined more than half the stores.
With no other choice, the Tillage Cultivator sowed a third rapid-crop.
Only five days remained until harvest, and the grain was on the verge of heading.
The mosquitoes in the vicinity grew thicker by the day, and the various poisons were growing less and less effective.
Niu Jingchuan was on edge. He had already spotted mosquitoes near the crops.
The appearance of even a single mosquito could mean a total crop failure, rendering everything they had done completely futile.
If they could not protect this crop, Laobing Village would starve. The villagers would either perish of hunger or turn into man-eating monsters, and in the end, this place would become just another desolate wasteland like the other villages.
Li Banfeng looked at the colored smoke drifting over the fields and the mosquitoes hovering within it, listening as Niu Fuzhi recounted the village's plight.
"All this medicine was brought by the peddler. We know the peddler, but we didn't know you, which is why we had a scuffle with you at the village entrance.
"The peddler is truly our savior. In the beginning, his medicine worked like a charm, but lately it's been getting less and less effective. Still, none of us could ever forget his kindness; he's truly a good man.
"You were sent by the peddler, weren't you? Why aren't you speaking?
"Even if you've never had any schooling, you've got cultivation, so you must recognize the peddler, right?"
Li Banfeng was taken aback.
The peddler had delivered medicine to Laobing Village?
Wasn't the peddler a businessman?
Could his identity be far more complicated than that?
While Li Banfeng was still pondering, Niu Fuzhi urged from beside him, "I've been babbling all this time—where's your medicine? Hurry up and take it out so we can use it!"
Li Banfeng was about to pull out two packets of prepared medicine, but after surveying the surroundings, he shook his head.
"We can't use the medicine here."
"Why not?" Niu Fuzhi asked, utterly baffled.
Li Banfeng said, "I'm afraid it will attract the mosquitoes."
Niu Fuzhi frowned. "We want medicine that kills mosquitoes! Why bring medicine that attracts them? Like I said, anyone can tell at a glance you've never had any schooling."
Li Banfeng scowled. "You're the one who's never had any schooling!"
Niu Fuzhi puffed out his chest. "I never went to school to begin with!"
There was no explaining it to him.
Li Banfeng picked a spot about three hundred meters away from the farmland to deploy the medicine. Following the instructions on the prescription, he had Niu Fuzhi fetch a large pot and gather firewood.
"Does your medicine need to be brewed into soup? Are you planning to feed it to the mosquitoes or something? We always use smoke!"
"You're the uneducated one, yet you have so much to say. Just hurry up and get the stuff!"
Before long, Niu Fuzhi returned carrying a large pot, and Li Banfeng added water to brew the concoction.
Once the water boiled, he scattered a packet of powder into it, and medicinal vapors billowed forth.
Niu Fuzhi caught a whiff and joked, "Well, would you look at that—it actually smells pretty appetizing. Can people drink this? Let me take a sip and try..."
*Bzzzz!*
Before he could finish, a dense black cloud of mosquitoes converged from all directions. Some dove straight into the pot, while others swirled tightly around it.
Niu Fuzhi shouted in horror, "You scoundrel! You're really trying to get us killed! You actually brought all the mosquitoes here?!"
While Niu Fuzhi was busy cursing, the Tillage Cultivator working in the field, Niu Jingchuan, broke into a smile.
The mosquitoes that had been lingering over the rice paddies were gone.
Following the direction of their flight, they were all heading toward Li Banfeng.
Mosquitoes converging from every corner gathered into a thick swarm, completely engulfing Li Banfeng.
Li Banfeng calmly stirred the ladle in the pot, watching as mosquitoes fell to the ground around him in swathes.
Old Yao's medicine attracted mosquitoes, but it killed them just as well.
The moment they caught even the faintest scent, the mosquitoes flew in, and the instant they touched the mist rising from the pot, they dropped dead.
Niu Jingchuan hurried over, his face beaming with joy. "This medicine really works!"
Niu Fuzhi felt a lingering dread. "If it can poison this many mosquitoes to death, can it poison people too?"
To be honest, Li Banfeng had been slightly worried as well.
However, the liquor gourd chimed in with a reminder: *"Before we left, Old Yao said this medicine wouldn't harm people."*
Had Old Yao said that?
He probably had.
Old Yao was not the sort to use medicine to harm others.
A thick layer of dead mosquitoes piled up around the pot. A single dose of the prepared medicine could be brewed for a full day and night. After Li Banfeng tended it for two hours, Niu Fuzhi brought someone over to relieve him.
"Benefactor, come have a bite to eat at my house first."
Eat again?
Hadn't they just eaten?
Yet Li Banfeng truly did feel hungry.
This meal consisted of Laobing Village's specialty—laobing flatbreads.
Having a guest over for another meal made Old Niu's wife look displeased, though she kept it to herself.
After finishing his meal, Li Banfeng went out to check the medicine's range of effectiveness.
Walking over two li from the brewing site, he could still see numerous mosquitoes continually flying toward the pot.
Walking another three li out, virtually no mosquitoes could be found in the area; they had all been lured away by the scent.
Going a bit further, the mosquitoes reappeared.
The medicinal aroma could not reach that far.
Li Banfeng carefully analyzed the scent in the air using his Hundred Flavors Exquisite technique; indeed, no trace of the medicine remained.
Old Yao's concoction was truly remarkable: within a five-li radius, every mosquito was drawn to the pot and exterminated.
This was effectively a protective barrier capable of shielding Laobing Village's harvest.
Heading within five days, harvesting within three days, and a few more days to thresh and store the grain—leaving them a dozen or so packets of medicinal powder ought to be more than enough.
Laobing Village was saved.
Li Banfeng also wanted to see if there were any other villages holding on, struggling to live like human beings.
Surely there were.
If he could just arrive a step earlier, perhaps one more village could survive.
Just as he was about to hand the prepared medicine to Niu Fuzhi, another thought gave him pause.
They had weathered this crisis, but what about the next?
As long as the mosquitoes were not wiped out, Laobing Village would forever hover on the edge of life and death.
To truly save them, there was only one way: hand over the prescription.
Yet the prescription was meant for Pan Dehai.
Wouldn't giving it to these villagers go against Old Yao's original intention?
Besides, with the medicine being so potent, if it fell into the hands of ordinary people who altered the recipe, might it be used for evil?
While he was still brooding, Niu Fuzhi came running after him. "Benefactor, where are you off to? It's mealtime again—hurry on over to our house to eat!"
Mealtime already?
Li Banfeng followed Niu Fuzhi inside.
Niu Fuzhi's wife was counting grains of rice into the pot. She scooped an extra handful into the bowl, hesitated for a moment, and put a little back.
A single household had only two days of rations on hand, and this was Li Banfeng's third meal with them. The woman couldn't help but feel the pinch.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Niu Fuzhi scolded his wife. "The benefactor is here! What are you being so stingy for?!"
The wife bit her lip and threw two more handfuls of rice into the pot.
Niu Fuzhi ducked into the cellar, rummaged around for a while, and brought out an earthenware jar of liquor.
"Benefactor, don't look down on it. We don't have good liquor around here, just home-brewed.
"With the disaster this year, we only managed to brew this one jar. We were saving it for New Year's, but today, I want you to have a taste."
Li Banfeng felt a sharp ache in his chest.
It hurt fiercely.
He wasn't poisoned, nor was he injured; he was gripped by guilt.
He wanted to hand over the prescription—right here, right now.
Niu Fuzhi poured the liquor. "Benefactor, what's wrong? Why aren't you drinking?
"If you look down on this stuff, I'll go out tomorrow and find some good liquor! I heard Mitang Village still has some. My wife still has a bracelet—I'll pawn it to trade for some fine liquor for you!"
Li Banfeng's chest throbbed again.
"Have a bowl first, just take a sip!" Niu Fuzhi held up the bowl.
Li Banfeng raised it and took a long draught.
The liquor was mellow and fiery, sending heat coursing through his entire body.
Niu Fuzhi called out to his wife again, "Go stew that slab of cured pork for the benefactor!"
The woman couldn't hold back. "That's the only piece left! Even the kids haven't been allowed to touch it!"
Niu Fuzhi snapped in irritation, "What did you say? When I tell you to stew it, you stew it!"
The woman shrank back, not daring to speak.
Li Banfeng was at a loss for words.
Niu Fuzhi took another sip of liquor and turned to Li Banfeng. "Benefactor, I know this medicine of yours is extraordinary. Could you spare us a couple more packets?
"We won't take it for free. We'll pay for it... whatever we have to give, we'll give it all to you.
"Benefactor, I beg of you. I'll kowtow to you!"
With that, Niu Fuzhi moved to drop to his knees.
Li Banfeng took a deep breath. "Stand up. You are not allowed to kneel!"
Niu Fuzhi said, "I'm doing this from the bottom of my heart."
Li Banfeng frowned. "Even with an honest heart, you don't kneel. Old Pan, come on out. Don't torment an honest man."
Niu Fuzhi was stunned. "What are you talking about? Who is Old Pan?"
Li Banfeng said, "Niu Fuzhi—blessed with fortune, armed with ambition—a man like you shouldn't be on his knees. It was Old Pan who forced you to your knees this time; make sure you never kneel again. Old Pan is already here. Tell your wife to put that cured pork away—we won't give him a bite. Find somewhere to hide for a bit; I have some words to say to Mr. Pan."
Chapter 162