In an instant, wisps of cooking smoke rose over Shuiwan Village in the night, and the aroma of meat spread through the air.
Ye Xiaojin returned to the kitchen. The shredded chicken congee was ready. She ladled out two bowls and carried them to the main hall, letting Grandpa and Grandpa Zhuang have some congee first.
Then she stir-fried a large plate of meat, salted the remaining wild boar meat, and hung it in the well to preserve.
Next, she scooped out the stewed chicken pieces from the other pot, arranged them on a plate, and carried them to the hall along with the stir-fried meat.
Neither of the two old men had started eating—they were waiting for her. Only when she was seated did they pick up their chopsticks.
Both nodded in approval as they ate. Lao Zhuang’s eyes lit up—the food the young miss made was simply too delicious. The Daoist who had taught her these skills must have been an immortal from the heavens.
“Grandpa Zhuang, do we have any flour at home?” Ye Xiaojin asked after they had eaten their fill.
“I brought some back today and gave half to the Li family. There should be about five catties left.”
“Tomorrow morning, I’ll make noodles with the chicken broth. I’ll do the cooking.”
Lao Zhuang nodded in agreement, then turned and went to his room to fetch the bag of flour and hand it to Ye Xiaojin.
The food the young miss made was delicious, sure—but it was a bit hard on the grain stores.
Grain prices were rising by the day, and just about everything in the house that could be pawned had already been pawned…
Lying in bed, Ye Xiaojin felt that the day had been truly fulfilling. She had only been here for one day, yet it felt like she had accomplished so much—and there was still so much waiting for her to do.
She closed her eyes and thought about what needed to be done next.
Her understanding of famine years came from the films, TV dramas, and novels she had watched in her previous life. She could find nothing about it in her original body’s memories.
She would need to ask Grandpa Zhuang and the others for detailed information about the outside situation. Tomorrow, no matter how many households chose to stay—whether they were committed to remaining or just taking a wait-and-see approach—she would first need to make them understand the true state of affairs beyond the village. What she wanted were people who genuinely chose to stay, because once their minds were at ease, all sorts of chaotic thoughts would diminish.
Although Shuiwan Village backed onto the mountains, there were no hunters in the village—just ordinary farming folk who made their living off the land. If they wanted to go deep into the mountains to hunt, they would first need to organize and train. The game and wild vegetables in the mountains could sustain the village for a while, but that was no long-term solution. They would still need to find ways to earn silver and buy grain.
Then there was the water source. When she had gone into the mountains today, she hadn’t discovered any large reservoirs or rivers. And since the afternoon had been rushed, they had only explored one corner of the sprawling mountain range. She would need to search further later—and she could also ask the birds in the mountains. On the way back today, she had heard the little birds chattering about a vast stretch of flowers with an intoxicating fragrance. She could go check that out tomorrow as well.
Also, this ability to understand bird speech—was it something she had gained from transmigrating, or had her original body always possessed it? She would need to find an opportunity to ask Grandpa about that too.
Ye Xiaojin calculated everything in her mind one by one, and as she thought, drowsiness crept over her, and she drifted off to sleep.
…
Meanwhile, at an inn in town, Xiao Moye tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep.
On one side was Ganbei Prefecture, where the starving littered the fields. On the other was the capital, with its glittering lights and bustling nightlife.
The refugees ate tree bark, grass roots, and guanyin clay. When someone in the marching column collapsed, a swarm of refugees would descend upon the still-warm corpse and devour it. People exchanged their children for food. And there were images of bodies being dug out of burial mounds to be eaten—all of it lingered in his mind, refusing to fade.
In the capital, he had only heard that Ganbei, southern Hubei, and Suizhou had suffered a drought from lack of rain, with Ganbei Prefecture being the most severely affected of the three. But the court had promptly opened the granaries and dispatched relief grain.
Though the rain had yet to come, the disaster victims could still get by on the court’s relief supplies.
What he had not expected was that upon arriving in Ganbei Prefecture, he would find the situation so devastatingly dire.
Who exactly embezzled the relief grain, and who concealed the true situation here? And what is the situation in the other two locations?
Yao Huaishan, the prefect of Ganbei Prefecture, is a cousin of the Empress’s clan. Was it he who concealed and failed to report, or did the Empress suppress the matter? Or were all members of the Empress’s faction involved?
Xiao Moye rose and sat at the desk, writing a letter to inform his grandfather of the situation here, sending it by carrier pigeon to the capital, hoping that his grandfather could plead for a way for the people here to survive.
After a moment’s thought, he copied another copy and sent it to the Prince of Zhennan at the border.
The national treasury was empty, the Emperor neglected court affairs and indulged in pleasure, and the Empress interfered in politics and favored her relatives. With the Emperor’s connivance, the Empress’s faction’s ambitions grew, and the Zhennan Prince’s Manor, which was loyal to imperial authority, became a thorn in their side.
But they feared the Prince of Zhennan’s military power, so they could only suppress him through military supplies and provisions.
The Prince of Zhennan commanded an army of three hundred thousand. In recent years, had it not been for his grandfather’s hint for him to secretly engage in business, the soldiers under his father’s command would probably have been reduced to eating tree bark and grass roots to survive, just like the refugees of Ganbei Prefecture.
Thinking of tree bark and grass roots reminded him of what Zhaocai had just reported upon returning—about the lack of grain in Shuiwan Village and Ye Xiaojin leading people into the mountains.
“Zhaocai.” He called out toward the door, and a young man in black clothing pushed the door open and entered.
“Heir Apparent.” The man cupped his hands in salute.
“You said that woman led people into the mountains this afternoon?”
“Yes, Heir Apparent. Miss Ye took three people deep into the mountains and hunted a wild boar, then distributed it to the villagers.” Zhaocai, remembering how he had lain on the roof of the neighboring house smelling the aroma of stir-fried meat, couldn’t help but swallow his saliva.
“She hunted it?” Xiao Moye was somewhat doubtful. That delicate, slender woman could take down a wild boar?
Unbidden, the image of her raising her hand to swear floated back into his mind—so white it was dazzling—and he felt a heat in his chest. Damn it, the medicine must not have fully worn off yet.
“According to the villagers who went with Miss Ye, it was Miss Ye alone who killed it.” The Heir Apparent was worried that the Third Princess’s people would follow him and Jinbao to Shuiwan Village and harm Old General Ye, so he had ordered Zhaocai to stay in the village to protect the old general. Naturally, wherever the old general was, Zhaocai was there.
“According to?” Xiao Moye frowned.
Seeing that his master seemed displeased, Zhaocai said carefully, “I was worried that the Third Princess’s people would come looking, so I stayed guarding the village and didn’t dare follow into the mountains.”
Xiao Moye’s expression grew irritated. After a moment’s deliberation, he said, “Tomorrow morning, deliver the two sacks of grain you bought today to the Ye family, and stay there to keep watch.” Then he called out toward the door, “Jinbao.”
Jinbao, hearing his master’s summons from outside the door, hurried into the room and saluted.
Xiao Moye nodded. “Tomorrow, go to the Ganning County office and process the marriage certificate between me and Ye Xiaojin. Once it’s done, wait for me in Shuiwan Village. Da Ji and Da Li will come with me. We’ll meet in Shuiwan Village in three days.”
Zhaocai and Jinbao couldn’t believe their ears. The Heir Apparent had already decided? Wasn’t he supposed to first bring her back to the capital and let the Old Prince decide which of them would marry her?
Seeing their astonished expressions, Xiao Moye grew even more irritated. “Get out.”
The two were about to scurry out when his voice sounded again from behind, “Next time that woman goes into the mountains, Zhaocai follows. If she dies, I won’t be able to explain it to Grandfather.”
Zhaocai and Jinbao exchanged a glance, both answering in unison, then cupped their hands and left.
Xiao Moye couldn’t sleep, so he sat by the lamp studying the topographic map. His purpose in coming this time was both to retrieve the Ye family, grandfather and granddaughter, and to pursue his own objectives.
The grain for the three hundred thousand troops of the Zhennan Prince’s Manor was no small amount, and his father had sent another letter urging for supplies.
But traveling all the way from the capital, let alone earning any silver, the silver he had brought with him had all been spent on relieving the refugees.
The emperor on the high throne continued to revel in peace and prosperity, clad in brocade and feasting on delicacies, expanding his harem endlessly.
The officials of Ganbei Prefecture suppressed the refugees outside the city walls, watching them starve to the point of cannibalism, while they themselves remained inside the city, eating until their bellies were round and their bodies fat…
In a rage, he slammed the Topographic Map heavily onto the table, a murderous glint rising in his eyes.
Since these officials did not serve the people, he would first strip away their family fortunes…
At Shuiwan Village, when Ye Xiaojin rose the next morning and opened the door, she found a young man in black, around twenty years old, standing outside. He held a sword against his chest, standing there like a door god.
Seeing her come out, Zhaocai quickly bowed with his hands clasped in salute. “Miss Ye, your subordinate Zhaocai, by order of the Heir Apparent, is to remain at the Ye residence.”
Ye Xiaojin was puzzled. This man had left in anger yesterday, and today he sent someone over—why?
Too lazy to speculate on his intentions, she asked directly, “Remain at the Ye residence? Did he give any instructions as to the reason?”
Instructions—Zhaocai thought to himself, the Heir Apparent had probably given some instructions, in a manner of speaking: don’t let Miss Ye die.
Zhaocai raised his head and glanced briefly at Ye Xiaojin’s face—dressed as a village girl yet stunningly beautiful—and wondered why the Heir Apparent acted so unusually toward her. Was it because of this face?
But did the capital lack beauties like this? The Third Princess, who had clung to the Heir Apparent since childhood, was extremely beautiful.
Yet the Heir Apparent had never once cared whether the Third Princess lived or died. So this woman before him must hold a different place in his heart.
With that thought, Zhaocai dared not let his mind wander further and quickly snapped back to attention. “The Heir Apparent is concerned for Miss Ye’s safety and ordered your subordinate to accompany and protect you.”
Regardless, Jinbao had gone to procure the marriage certificate today—this was the future Heir Apparent’s consort.
Ye Xiaojin raised an eyebrow. Protect her? Was he sure this wasn’t an opportunity to take her life?
Whatever his true purpose, Ye Xiaojin thought, she would deal with it as it came—counter each move as it arose.
For now, she would first check on Grandpa’s condition today.
When she entered the room, Lao Zhuang was just helping Ye Hong wash up. Ye Xiaojin observed that Grandpa seemed to be in slightly better spirits and felt relieved.
She briefly mentioned that Zhaocai had been left behind—of course, leaving out her own suspicions, not wanting the old man to worry over it.
Unexpectedly, Ye Hong nodded with satisfaction. “Good, he’s indeed someone worth entrusting. Sending someone to help you shows he has a caring heart.”
Ye Xiaojin: “…”
Did the old man have some beautiful misunderstanding about Xiao Moye?