The crowd responded with a resounding affirmation, dispersing with renewed vigor, searching more meticulously and confidently than before.
Perhaps Ming Zhao’s good fortune had influenced those around her. In the following hours, although they did not discover any more rare treasures like the red ganoderma or golden ear fungus, their ordinary, edible finds increased. Several sunny slopes revealed resilient wild onions, pine forests yielded fallen pine nuts not yet devoured by animals, and even within sheltered rock crevices, they unearthed a few thin but edible wild yam roots.
As the sun began to set, Zhao Yong and Zhao Huaiyuan returned with their hunting and scouting teams. What they saw were the women and children, faces dusty and hands and feet reddened from the cold, but their baskets and cloth bags were no longer empty. Instead, they were filled with a variety of finds. In everyone’s eyes was a long-lost light, mingled with a sense of accomplishment.
These women had once been ladies of the inner household or servants of the estate. The Zhao Residence had been relatively prosperous—how could they have ever experienced such days of flight?
But since the old madam and the legitimate young mistress had not complained, how dare they say anything?
Ming Zhao was in the camp, tallying the gathered wild vegetables, lichen, pine nuts, yams, and the treasure carefully wrapped in cloth, its golden hue peeking through.
The lingering glow of the sunset bathed her small face, casting a warm, resilient halo.
Zhao Yong looked at the pile of miscellaneous yet genuinely edible items, then at the visibly uplifted spirits of the group. The tension that had long gripped his face finally eased into a genuine smile.
He strode over, setting down the plump wild rabbit he had been carrying on his shoulder, his voice booming, “Young mistress, we have gains on our side as well! A trap caught a rabbit, and we shot two pheasants! The scouts have also returned with some news!”
Ming Zhao looked up, her eyes reflecting the campfire and the fading sunlight.
This land was not entirely ungenerous.
The next day, Ming Zhao thought it best to split up to cover more ground. The result was that those who followed her continued to benefit, while the other team returned empty-handed.
Ming Zhao fell silent. On the third day, they decided to stick together again, much to everyone’s relief. It seemed that following the young mistress meant having food to eat.
Two consecutive days of bountiful harvests had significantly diluted the atmosphere of despair in the camp.
The earthen pots no longer held only thin, watery broth. Now, they carried the fresh fragrance of shepherd’s purse, the smooth texture of golden ear fungus, and occasionally even a few wisps of oil from lean meat.
Although each person’s portion remained meager, barely enough to stave off hunger, the variety and change in flavor, along with Ming Zhao’s almost miraculous luck in finding provisions—as if heaven itself were granting them food—rekindled a sense of cohesion within the group.
Ming Zhao knew in her heart that such luck could not last forever.
After their thorough, carpet-like searches, the edible resources in the mountains were growing increasingly scarce. The weather grew colder each day, and their thin clothing and crude shelters were inadequate against the harsh winter.
More importantly, they could not remain trapped in these deep mountains.
On the afternoon of the third day, just as everyone was discussing whether they should risk descending to take the official road in search of other fleeing groups, the retainers stationed on the camp’s perimeter for guard duty brought someone in—
It was the gaunt woman Ming Zhao had encountered by the stream two days earlier.
She looked even more haggard than before, her clothes in tatters, fresh frostbite marks newly visible on her face.
Her gaze no longer held the desperate, death-driven madness of two days ago, but rather a plea of all-or-nothing desperation. Behind her, timidly following, were two emaciated, sallow-faced children—a boy and a girl, both looking no older than five or six. They huddled fearfully behind their mother, eyeing the strangers in the camp.
The moment the woman saw Ming Zhao, she fell to her knees with a thud, kowtowing repeatedly. “Young lady! Miss, I beg you, take us three with you! We… we truly can’t survive any longer!”
Ming Zhao quickly motioned for Qing Niang to help her up. “Auntie, please rise and speak. Where… have you come from?”
Helped to her feet, the woman trembled, her words somewhat incoherent. “We… we have nowhere to go. We couldn’t find food in the mountains, and my children are starving. I heard movement and voices from your direction, so… I mustered the courage to come over. Please, spare us some food, take us with you! We’ll do anything! I know the way! I… I know how to get into Yun City!”
That last sentence made Ming Zhao’s heart skip a beat, and Zhao Yong and the others immediately turned their attention to her.
“You know how to get into Yun City?” Zhao Yong scrutinized the woman. “Is Yun City far from here? What’s the situation there now? Are the city gates still open?”
Intimidated by Zhao Yong’s presence, the woman shrank back, but after glancing at her children, who were so hungry they were licking their lips, she mustered her courage again. “I’m hungry. Could you give me something to eat?”
Ming Zhao had Qing Niang bring some of the mixed-grain porridge cooked that day, mixed with shepherd’s purse and wood ear mushrooms, and shared it with her and her two children.
The children, ravenous, wolfed it down despite the heat. The woman herself only took a few bites before pushing the rest toward her children, watching them with tear-filled eyes.
Seeing this, Ming Zhao poured her another bowl. She hurriedly ate it, then bashfully thanked her.
Ming Zhao was desperate for information. “Where is this Yun City you mentioned?”
“My maiden family were mountain folk near Yun City. Yun City only has one gate, facing the official road. I heard it hasn’t been opened easily for a long time—they don’t take in refugees. And with the Hu people attacking from time to time, no one goes there anymore. But…”
She lowered her voice. “My family came to these deep mountains because we know a small path. From here, crossing a few large mountains, you can circle around from the back hills. It’s very hidden, almost no one knows about it. That path leads to a drainage culvert opening at the base of the city walls. The opening isn’t large, but adults can still squeeze through. In the past, mountain folk secretly used it to enter and leave, trading for salt in the city.”
She glanced at Ming Zhao’s noticeably large group and added, “With so many of you, you definitely can’t enter through the main gate. The guards won’t let strangers in, especially in times like these. But that small path… maybe you could try it. Only, there might be a grate inside the culvert opening, and I don’t know if it’s blocked up now. Also, you can only go in one by one, slowly. Too many people would risk exposure.”
This information was crucial!
If what the woman said was true, it could be a potential, hidden route to bypass the tight defenses and enter Yun City! Though the risks were high—
For their group, who were almost at a dead end, any possible safe haven was worth the risk.
Ming Zhao and Zhao Yong quickly exchanged a glance.
“Auntie, are you sure that small path is still passable? The culvert opening isn’t blocked?”
The woman hesitated for a moment. “It’s been several years since I last went there, but I remember the place being very remote, overgrown with dense vines. Ordinary people would never find it. As long as no one deliberately blocked it, it should… it should still be usable.”
Zhao Yong pondered for a moment. “Young Mistress, this matter requires careful consideration. We must first send someone to follow this…”
The woman quickly added, “My surname is Zhou.”
“To follow Madam Zhou and first investigate the condition of that small path and the hidden water channel entrance, confirm whether it’s feasible, and then observe the situation inside the city. If there’s an opportunity, we can decide whether to proceed with everyone.”
Ming Zhao nodded. “Uncle Zhao is absolutely right, but that would be too troublesome. Even if we can’t enter the city, that place is still more suitable for people to live than here. Right now, there’s no other way—let’s all go together.”
She turned to Madam Zhou. “Aunt Zhou, as you can see, we have many people here—the elderly, the weak, women, and children. Our food is nearly exhausted, and our situation is dire. If the path you lead us to truly helps us enter Yun City, you will be the benefactor of our entire group.”
Madam Zhou nodded repeatedly. “Yes! Yes! I’ll lead the way! As long… as long as the young mistress can give my two children and me something to eat and let us follow, I’m willing to do anything!”
It was already afternoon today, and crossing mountains and ridges would be difficult. It would be better to rest and reorganize for another day. Grandmother’s health had also improved, so she could travel with them.
They needed to make a stretcher so people could take turns carrying her.
Ming Zhao sat beside her grandmother, holding the old lady’s hand. Over the past two days, Grandmother had drunk soup made with red ganoderma and golden ear mushrooms and eaten some nutritious porridge, so her spirits had improved considerably. Now, leaning against a raised fur robe, she opened her eyes to look at her.
“Zhaozhao,” the old lady’s voice was clear, “has there been any progress?”
“Yes, Grandmother.” Ming Zhao quietly explained the matter of Yun City and the small path. “I hope that path truly leads there. Once we enter the city, with the protection of the city walls and supplies, you can properly recover from your illness.”
The old lady patted the back of her hand, her gaze both relieved and worried. “My Zhaozhao is capable of taking charge now. It’s all because of my frail health that forced you to mature so early. People’s hearts are hard to fathom—be extra cautious with that woman and the garrison commander in Yun City.”
“I understand.”
As dusk approached, the cold wind rose again.
The hunting and gathering teams returned one after another. Today’s harvest was meager. After everyone finished eating and tidied up, their gazes frequently drifted toward the forested mountains in the southwest.
They had heard they were going to Yun City.
Suddenly, a voice of realization emerged from the crowd. “Yun City! I remember now—the Xie family has a direct branch serving as the prefect there. If they haven’t fled south, the Xie family must be in charge there.”
Everyone looked at him—it was Ming Zhao’s uncle, who had always been inconspicuous.
He had been unable to help and felt too embarrassed to say anything, but having traveled far and wide as a merchant in the past, he still knew a thing or two.
Ming Zhao looked at him and remembered that Zhao Zhen’s chief strategist was Xie Yungui.
Indeed, he was a direct descendant of the Xie family, the youngest son of a high-ranking Scholar-Gentry clan.
He hadn’t gone south and, for some reason, remained in the Northern Region.
If translated into modern terms, he was like a super-rich second-generation heir who spent all the money in his bank account to fund a poor young man’s startup, while working as an employee himself, pouring his heart and soul into it.
Her father certainly had a way about him.
“Uncle, what do you know?”