Ming Zhao’s heart sank.
She slowly walked forward, with Zhao Huaiyuan gripping his wooden spear tightly, vigilantly guarding her side.
“Auntie,” Ming Zhao’s gaze fell on the body by the water. It was a middle-aged man, sallow and emaciated, his eyes tightly shut, his lips blue and purple. There seemed to be an extremely faint rise and fall in his chest?
“He… seems to still be breathing.”
“Breathing?” the woman repeated blankly, then shook her head, tears mixing with the grime on her face as they streamed down. “No! He’s long gone! He stopped breathing last night! Cold! Already stiff!”
As she spoke, she tried to push the man again.
“Wait!” Ming Zhao crouched down, ignoring the icy stream water soaking her shoes and socks, and carefully extended a finger to the man’s nostrils.
“He’s still alive!” Ming Zhao looked up at the woman. “It’s just that his breath is too weak!”
The woman stared at her intently. “He can’t be alive. My youngest son died, and I buried him. He dug him up and ate him. Now he wants to eat my other two children. Even tigers don’t eat their own cubs—he’s worse than a beast.”
Ming Zhao:…
Such a person absolutely must not pollute the water source, but the auntie before her was clearly in a poor mental state.
She couldn’t provoke her further. “Auntie, how about this: you set him aside, and I’ll chop him up a few times. Once the blood flows, wild beasts will surely catch the scent and come to devour him.”
Ming Zhao glanced at the stream and the cold pool. “There are many of us, and we need this water source. If this water becomes contaminated, we’ll truly have no way to survive.”
Although the water was flowing, she had seen it—if a corpse were to drift downstream, how unsettling would that be!
The woman thought for a moment, then nodded.
As long as he died and his body disappeared, that was enough.
She didn’t want her children to know their youngest brother had been dug up by their own father. She had seen it—his eyes glowed with a green light, no longer human.
Ming Zhao nodded. It was good that she could be reasoned with. Then Zhao Huaiyuan dragged the man away to carry out the plan.
Ming Zhao wanted to say something more, but the auntie was about to leave. After a moment’s thought, she called out to her, “We’ve found edible plants on the mountain to the left. There’s more than one kind of wild vegetable there. You can go and look for them.”
In the depths of winter, and with two children to care for…
The woman turned back to look at her. Since the Hu people had invaded, this was the first time she had received kindness, even if it came from a girl not yet ten years old.
Perhaps there was too much in the auntie’s eyes. Ming Zhao was momentarily stunned, staring back at her. By the time she regained her composure, the woman had already left.
Now that she had obtained the red ganoderma, her grandmother was still the priority. She needed to Rest and Reorganize in the mountains. As long as her grandmother was alive, it wasn’t yet a dead end.
There was still food in these mountains. She would return and organize people to dig for roots and tubers. In such a vast mountain range, there was always a way to survive.
When Ming Zhao and Zhao Huaiyuan returned to the mountain hollow, Zhao Yong came forward to meet them. Seeing the two return safely, his expression visibly relaxed. When he saw the red ganoderma Ming Zhao carefully retrieved from her basket, even with his extensive experience, he couldn’t help but gasp in astonishment. “This… this is red ganoderma! young mistress, this is a great stroke of fortune!”
He marveled at Ming Zhao’s luck. Having often accompanied Zhao Zhen outside, he knew the rarity of such natural treasures. For the elderly madam, whose life force was nearly exhausted, this was nothing short of a life-extending miracle herb.
“Uncle Zhao, we’ll rely on you,” Ming Zhao handed the red ganoderma to him. “Use half to make soup for Grandmother, and put the other half in the porridge so everyone can nourish themselves.”
After all, there were so many people here, and Grandmother couldn’t use an entire one. Since they had no means to preserve it, it was better to use it now rather than let it become a source of trouble.
Zhao Yong solemnly accepted it and immediately gave the necessary orders.
Coincidentally, that very afternoon, a few of the retainers left behind by Zhao Huaiyuan had managed to trap a scrawny wild rabbit and two mountain rats using snares. Though not much, in these times, it was a rare delicacy and source of nourishment.
The red ganoderma was carefully washed, and half of it was taken. Along with the cleaned wild rabbit and mountain rats, a few pieces of dried ginger originally reserved for emergencies were added to an earthenware pot, which was placed over the fire to simmer slowly. The distinctive, slightly bitter fragrance of the red ganoderma blended with the aroma of meat, gradually spreading through the cold, lifeless mountain hollow, as if infusing this desperate place with its first breath of vitality.
Everyone instinctively sniffed the air, their eyes involuntarily drawn to the bubbling earthenware pot. The sound of swallowing echoed one after another, yet no one dared complain or step forward. Everyone knew that this was the life-saving broth for the elderly lady.
Ming Zhao personally tended to the fire, gently stirring the contents with a clean, slender wooden stick. The broth gradually turned into a warm golden-brown hue, as if the essence of the red ganoderma had fully dissolved into it. After simmering for nearly two hours, until the meat was tender and the ganoderma had melted into the broth, the aroma became irresistible.
She carried the earthenware pot inside, carefully ladled out a bowl of the broth, and picked out the softest pieces of rabbit meat and ganoderma slices. Then, she personally brought it to her grandmother’s bedside.
The elderly lady had rested and recovered slightly, but she remained in a semi-conscious state. Ming Zhao helped her sit up and whispered softly into her ear, “Grandmother, Zhao Zhao has found something good. Please drink a little to warm yourself.”
Perhaps it was the steam from the broth, or perhaps it was the bond of blood, but the elderly lady’s eyelids fluttered slightly, and she opened her eyes a little. Her cloudy gaze fell on Ming Zhao’s face before shifting to the steaming, enticing bowl of broth.
Ming Zhao used a small wooden spoon, blew on it to cool it slightly, and brought it to her grandmother’s lips.
At first, the elderly lady struggled to swallow, nearly choking. Ming Zhao remained extremely patient, feeding her little by little.
Perhaps it was the gentle yet potent medicinal properties of the red ganoderma, or perhaps the rare nourishment from the meat and fat awakened the body’s most primal will to survive. After a few sips of the hot broth, the elderly lady’s complexion visibly improved. It was no longer the deathly pallor of before but had regained a hint of color.
Her breathing also steadied, and though her eyes still looked weary, they now held focus.
“Zhao Zhao…” she called weakly.
“Grandmother, I’m here,” Ming Zhao replied, holding her cold hand and bringing the bowl closer. “Drink a little more. It’s good for you.”
The elderly lady drank a few more sips from her hand and ate two small pieces of the tenderly stewed rabbit meat and a bit of the red ganoderma.
By the time the bowl was empty, fine beads of sweat had formed on her forehead—no longer cold sweat but a warm, gentle perspiration.
“I feel better…” the elderly lady sighed deeply, her eyes filled with affection and pity as she looked at her granddaughter’s noticeably thinner face. “You’ve suffered, child. This is hard to come by. You should have some too. Look how thin you’ve become.”
“If Grandmother is well, Zhao Zhao doesn’t suffer,” Ming Zhao shook her head, feeling the heavy weight in her heart ease slightly. The red ganoderma had indeed worked, at least pulling her grandmother back from the brink of death.
She helped her grandmother lie down again and tucked the fur robe snugly around her.
The old lady’s spirits had improved considerably, and she softly inquired about the situation outside. Ming Zhao selected what could be said to comfort her, coaxing her to sleep slowly.
This time, her grandmother’s breathing was noticeably much more even and steady.
Watching her grandmother sleep peacefully, Ming Zhao finally felt as if her entire body had fallen apart, and exhaustion washed over her.
Zhao Yong ladled out the remaining half-bowl of soup and the thick, meaty broth from the bottom of the pot, unceremoniously placing it before Ming Zhao. “Young mistress, you must eat something. The old mistress is right—these past few days, you’ve exhausted your mind and strength, hungry and cold. If this continues, your body will collapse too. If you fall, we truly have no hope left.”
His words brooked no refusal. The old retainers of the Zhao Residence, the retainers, and even the scattered soldiers who had followed them along the way all silently watched her, their eyes conveying the same message.
Ming Zhao could not fall, and it was not just her body that must not fail.
She no longer refused. Taking the half-bowl of warm soup, concentrated with the essence of red ganoderma and meat broth, she slowly drank it.
As the soup entered her stomach, a warm current quickly spread to her limbs, dispelling the chill deep in her bones. The exhaustion of the past few days seemed to ease slightly.
She also ate some of the shredded meat and red ganoderma residue from the bottom of the pot. Though not much, it was a great comfort to her long-empty stomach.
Dusk had settled, and the last glimmer of daylight was Devoured by the mountains. The few campfires lit between the makeshift shelters became the only source of warmth and reliance in the darkness.
Everyone drank the porridge that warmed their bellies. The night was as dark as ink, and the crackling campfires cast flickering light on the faces of those sitting around.
Fatigue and hunger had not vanished with a bowl of thin porridge, but the news of the old lady’s improvement and the porridge infused with the medicinal energy of red ganoderma had finally torn a small opening in the heavy atmosphere of despair, letting in a faint breath of life.
Ming Zhao sat beside the central campfire, her small figure elongated by the firelight. She looked around at the faces—some numb, some fearful, some bewildered, and others, like Zhao Yong and his son, carrying a quiet sense of hope.
They could not rely solely on that bit of heaven-sent luck or Zhao Huaiyuan’s occasional finds.
The group had to take action. They had to find a more stable source of food and learn about the situation outside. Otherwise, this newly kindled flame of hope would soon be extinguished by the cold winds of reality.
She cleared her somewhat dry and hoarse throat. All eyes, whether from the old retainers of the Zhao Residence, the retainers, the scattered soldiers, or the anxious servants and family members, involuntarily focused on her.
This young mistress, only eight years old yet possessing a decisiveness beyond her years, had already become the invisible backbone of this group.
“Everyone,” Ming Zhao began, her voice clear and carrying through the quiet mountain hollow, carrying the softness of a child yet also the power of hope—and hope was the most precious thing in these times. “Today, we obtained some food, and Grandmother has recovered somewhat. This is a respite given by heaven, but we cannot sit idle and consume what little we have.”
She paused, her gaze sweeping over the crowd. “The provisions Uncle Zhao brought back, along with this bit of wild game, if used sparingly, will last at most two or three days. We cannot wait until our food and water run out before we think of a solution.”
She pointed at the dark, undulating mountain shadows outside. “These mountains may look desolate, but they’re not lifeless. Today, we found red ganoderma, wild vegetables, and caught prey with traps. This means there is still a way to survive in these mountains—hidden right under our noses. We just have to search for it, dig it out, and guard it.”
“So,” she raised her voice slightly, her youthful tone echoing against the mountain walls, “tomorrow, we must take action. Everyone must take action!”
“Those who are strong and have experience in the mountains, follow Uncle Zhao and Brother Huaiyuan, and split into several teams. One team will continue exploring deeper into the mountains, searching for safer, more suitable places to settle. Pay attention to any signs of human activity, even the slightest unusual sound! We need to find other refugees or any possible strongholds or villages. Remember, caution comes first. Do not act recklessly in any situation—gathering information and ensuring your own safety are the priorities.”