Taking in refugees was not Panlong City's obligation.
His wife choked back her words. They were already homeless; what standing did they have to complain?
He Lingchuan murmured, "That man is no good. His mule might be a bit old, but it could easily carry two skin-and-bones old folks."
The elderly couple were both gaunt; together, they weighed at most a hundred and seventy or eighty jin.
The wife blinked in shock. "Then why did he...?"
She stole a glance back. Sure enough, though the mule had a slight limp, its steps were actually quite steady.
"He just couldn't bear to part with his goods and coin," He Lingchuan explained. "The commander saw right through it, which was why he told him to toss the baggage and help his father onto the mule's back. But without money, that man would have a hard time gaining a foothold in a new place. His parents are too old to work and earn a living, making two extra mouths to feed."
"He refused, so of course the commander wouldn't force him. The old woman heading up the mountain on her own—she saw right through her son's thoughts as well." Either she was utterly disheartened, or she couldn't bear to leave her husband behind.
Hearing this, Liu Sanjiu and his wife looked at each other in silence.
Some matters could not bear close scrutiny; once picked apart, they were nothing but ugliness.
They walked for another quarter of an hour or so before cavalry galloping from the rear shouted at the top of their lungs: "Faster! Move faster, all of you! The enemy is catching up!"
Not even the rolling thunder overhead struck with such terrifying force. Screams and wails instantly erupted from the long column, and the speed of their march picked up visibly.
Falling behind now meant certain death!
Hurrying through a rainy night was no easy feat. He Lingchuan watched as many stumbled and fell in their rush, only to scramble back up with difficulty.
Many of the old and weak fell, were trampled by a few frantic feet, and never rose again.
He Lingchuan could not help closing his eyes.
Even though he knew this history had long scattered to the winds and everything before him was an illusion, he had come here and seen it with his own eyes. A heavy stone seemed to press down on his chest, weighing upon him with a suffocating ache.
How were the lives of the people on this plain any different from the grass beneath their feet, or the chickens trapped in a coop?
Left to the slaughter, despised and treated like dirt.
Just then, the column abruptly slowed, and commotion broke out up ahead.
The rear surged into the front; the road was jammed.
With his sharp hearing, He Lingchuan could catch the sound of angry shouting up ahead.
Crowds were like this: the more hurried and chaotic things grew, the easier it was for things to go wrong.
Standing where he was, he could only see the backs of the heads ahead. He Lingchuan set the bundle on the ground and swiftly scrambled up a half-withered desert poplar by the roadside.
In extreme weather, climbing high invited lightning strikes, but he was willing to take the risk.
Fortunately, the next two lightning bolts struck in the distance, conveniently lighting the way for him. By the flash, he spotted several dozen carriages clustered along the riverbank ahead.
Large chests were stacked high on the carriages; evidently, there were wealthy households among the fleeing refugees as well.
Those that had already passed went without saying, but perhaps because the belongings packed in the chests were too heavy, or perhaps because the ground was too muddy, seven or eight carriages could not make it up the slope at all. No matter how the drivers cracked their whips, and though the horses whinnied piteously, the wagons remained mired in the mud, refusing to budge.
Behind them, another twenty to thirty carriages were lined up waiting.
By now, the column had reached the riverbank. On one side stood a cliff face, and on the other ran the river. The road in between was narrow, wide enough for at most three carriages abreast.
Worse, it was a steep slope.
Everyone coming from behind found their way blocked.
Someone like He Lingchuan, who was empty-handed, could still climb over the carriages. But who fled disaster without their belongings? Those leading oxen, driving carts, or hauling everything they owned had no way through even if they sprouted wings.
With pursuers at their heels, the refugees' eyes burned with frantic desperation. They dispensed with any courtesy, rushing forward to drag and shove the carriages aside.
To their surprise, a chorus of shouts erupted from within the carriage barricade, and some twenty armed escorts rushed out. Gripping gleaming weapons in one hand, they shoved the refugees with the other: "Back! Back off, all of you! Do you have a death wish?"
The two sides began trading curses.
Of course, in their current predicament, cursing solved nothing and only poured fuel on the fire.
And so, after a few dozen breaths, someone among the refugees made the first move, grabbing mud from the ground and hurling it at the escorts. The escorts retaliated at once, and the scene descended into an all-out brawl.
He Lingchuan counted: in less than half the time it took to drink a cup of tea, at least a dozen people had been injured.
Not a single carriage had been moved, however. One had to admit these escorts were quite diligent.
The commotion here soon caught the attention of the Gale Army. He Lingchuan's old acquaintance arrived once more, this time with a dozen or so subordinates trailing behind him.
The situation on the ground was plain to see. Refusing to waste time listening to nonsense from either side, he barked, "Whose carriages are these? Step forward!"
A fat man in fine brocade scurried out from the carriage formation. "Officer, sir, may I ask your honorable surname?"
"Xiao."
"Master Xiao, I am the steward of Prefect Sun! All of this belongs to the Sun estate. Please have your men help us push them up..."
The commander waved a dismissive hand. "Move them out of the way immediately and clear the path for the people!"
The fat man grew frantic. "Officer, these are all precious goods! They are supplies Prefect Sun is transporting to Panlong City, agreed upon by both sides well in advance! For example, armor and weapons that your army can put to use..."
At this point in time, the Panlong Wasteland had long been locked in a prolonged stalemate. Military supplies and grain were the lifeblood of the cities. Taking this seriously upon hearing it, the commander ordered directly, "Open the chests for inspection!"
The caravan complied and began opening the chests, though some moved faster than others. Sure enough, the first ones opened were gleaming with military supplies: weapons, suits of armor, medicines, and the like.
The fat man called out loudly, "Officer, did I lie to you?"
The commander waved a hand, and his cavalrymen stepped forward to pry open all the rest.
Looking down from above, He Lingchuan saw at a glance that among these dozens of cartloads of chests, only about ten contained military supplies. The rest were stuffed with all kinds of valuables: gold, silver, jewels, precious ornaments, followed by garments, antiques, small furnishings, and anything else one could imagine—if one could think of it, it was packed in there.
Just then, a flash of lightning streaked past, illuminating a chest of goldware until it gleamed dazzlingly—and among the items sat a miniature gold chamber pot...
The fat man wiped his forehead, though whether he was wiping away sweat or rainwater was impossible to say.
The crowd went quiet for a few breaths, followed immediately by a roaring wave of curses.
The commander issued his order with an expressionless face: "Unhitch the horses and haul the military supplies up! The rest—shove it all aside!"
The fat man panicked completely, rushing forward to grab his hand. "You cannot do this! You cannot! If you discard Prefect Sun's property, you won't be able to account for it to the Commander!"
The commander shook off his hand, sending an ingot of gold flying from it. "Push them aside! What are you standing around for? The sooner it's cleared, the sooner everyone can move!"
This was a military order. Were they willing to obey?
The watching crowd: Absolutely!
They swarmed forward like a hive of bees, helping the Gale Army shove aside the Sun family's private goods, unhitching the horses, and harnessing them to the carriages hauling the military supplies.
During the process, some commoners naturally snatched up valuables belonging to the Sun household and quietly pocketed them. Seeing this, servants from the Sun estate rushed in to catch the thieves, throwing the scene into even greater chaos.
Just then, a man around thirty years old charged over from the rear, bellowing, "Who dares touch my Sun family's property?!"
Pointing at the commander, he yelled, "How dare you! My father, Prefect Sun, and Commander Zhong have supported each other through thick and thin for ten years! Now that Weicheng has fallen, you soldier scum dare kick us while we're down and loot my family's wealth..."
Chapter 87