Widow Wang remained kneeling stiffly in place. Xu Lang’s cold words were like a needle dipped in freezing poison, piercing into her already numb heart.
Go into the mountains?
That cursed place where even Zhao Dahu dared not go deep, rumored to be inhabited by black bears?
Before, Zhao Dahu only hunted around the outskirts of the mountains. Even with luck, it would take two or three days to catch a little food.
Now, the nearby prey had already been nearly exhausted. Without going into the deep mountains, it was almost impossible to find anything to eat.
But entering the deep mountains… that was not going to find food, that was going to seek death!
Not far behind her, the villagers watching the scene had also heard Xu Lang’s words.
A wave of suppressed murmuring spread through the crowd.
“He’s crazy! Xu Lang has gone mad!”
“Letting a widow follow him into the deep mountains? Isn’t that basically sending her to her death?”
“Exactly. That place isn’t a joke. I heard from my grandfather that there are black bears in there that can smash a person into pulp with one swipe!”
“Shh… keep your voice down! Did you forget how Zhao Dahu died? Xu Lang is even more ruthless than him now!”
The villagers’ faces carried the same hunger and numbness, but even more so, a kind of indifferent detachment and fear.
Xu Lang stopped and slowly turned around.
His gaze, like two sharp blades, swept across their pale, starved faces.
Those he looked at all lowered their heads instinctively, not daring to meet his eyes.
“You’re all the same.”
Xu Lang spoke without a trace of emotion.
“If any family is on the verge of starving to death and can’t wait for the grain from the royal authority, you can come with me into the mountains.”
“I can’t guarantee you’ll come back alive, but I guarantee that if you do come back alive, you’ll have meat to eat.”
The entire place fell into dead silence.
You could hear a pin drop.
No one moved. No one even dared to breathe loudly.
Go into the deep mountains and fight wild beasts?
What kind of joke was that!
The grain distributed by the royal authority was mixed with sand and husks, rough on the throat, but at least it could keep a person barely alive.
With a little of that grain, plus some wild vegetables dug from the hillsides and tree bark to chew on, even though one would be dizzy with hunger every day, at least one could survive.
Survival was more important than anything.
Pathetic. Ridiculous.
When Zhao Dahu had run rampant in the village, where was their resistance? Forget kneeling at doors to beg for food. They would not even dare walk the same path if they saw his shadow.
Now that Xu Lang had killed Zhao Dahu, they dared to kneel at his door and try to morally pressure him.
Did they really think Xu Lang was some soft, kind-hearted target?
The tragic deaths of Wang Erniu’s family had already taught him in the cruelest way possible that in this chaotic world, excessive kindness was a poison that hastened death.
He could not be bothered to waste more words with them. Turning around, he prepared to leave.
At that moment—
“Xu… Brother Xu!”
A somewhat timid yet resolute voice came from the back of the crowd.
Xu Lang paused.
A short but solid-looking, honest man squeezed his way out of the crowd.
It was Zhang Xing from the village.
He hurried over to Xu Lang. From nervousness, the little flesh he had on his face trembled slightly.
Xu Lang looked at him. “You want to go into the mountains too?”
Zhang Xing nodded hard. He did not dare meet Xu Lang’s eyes. Lowering his head, gripping the hem of his clothes, he spoke with all his strength, “My… my mother gave birth to another younger brother a few days ago…”
“At home… we really have nothing left to eat. I want… I want to follow you into the mountains and try my luck.”
He lifted his head, his eyes full of pleading.
“If… if we can catch something, you’re the leader, you take the big share! I… I just need a little, enough to cook my mother a bowl of soup to help her recover, and I’ll be satisfied!”
Because the empire had suffered heavy casualties among men due to years of war, many households were left empty.
To encourage population growth, the royal authority had issued a strict order. Whether it was a newly assigned wife or an original spouse, as long as a son was born, the family could receive five kilograms of rice.
Although that rice was mixed with impurities and could not be considered fine rice, in this famine where people preyed on each other, it had become the greatest hope for countless families.
Zhang Xing’s mother had risked her life for that five kilograms of life-saving rice.
But although the child had been born, the mother was now too weak to even get out of bed, unable to have even a mouthful of something warm.
Xu Lang looked at Zhang Xing’s face, filled with filial devotion and determination. Something inside him was lightly stirred.
He seemed to see again Wang Erniu, holding that clay jar and crying like a child.
Men who were all trying desperately to survive for their families.
“Alright.”
Xu Lang spoke a single word.
Zhang Xing’s eyes lit up instantly. He could hardly believe what he had heard.
“Yes! Yes! Thank you, Brother Xu! Thank you, Brother Xu!”
He was so excited he could barely speak coherently. He bowed repeatedly to Xu Lang, then turned and ran toward his home like a madman.
The villagers around them watched this scene, their expressions extremely complicated.
There was shock, confusion, but more than anything, a kind of pity as if looking at a fool.
Another one who did not care about his life.
…
A moment later, at the village entrance.
Zhang Xing came running over, panting heavily, carrying a rusty woodcutting machete on his shoulder.
The already tattered clothes he wore had been replaced with an even more worn-out set, clearly the best he owned.
“Brother Xu, I’m here!”
Xu Lang nodded, said nothing more, and turned to head toward the deep mountains.
Zhang Xing followed closely behind him, step by step, gripping his machete.
Their two figures, one in front and one behind, faded into the morning mist, carrying both desolation and a sense of fearless resolve.
Widow Wang was still kneeling there. Watching the direction they disappeared, two muddy tears finally slid down from her hollow eyes.
…
The deeper they went into the mountains, the darker it became.
Towering trees blocked out the sky. The forest was filled with a damp, decaying smell.
The sounds of birds and insects gradually disappeared.
Only the rustling of their footsteps on dry branches and fallen leaves remained.
Zhang Xing’s palms were drenched in sweat. He gripped his machete tightly, not daring to stray even a step too far from Xu Lang.
The oppressive atmosphere made it hard for him to breathe.
Suddenly, Xu Lang, who was walking in front, stopped and raised his hand sharply.
Zhang Xing jolted in fright and immediately stopped, his body going rigid.
“Xu… Brother Xu, wh-what is it?” he whispered, his voice trembling uncontrollably.
Xu Lang did not turn around, nor did he answer.
He simply raised his other hand slowly and pointed toward the ground not far ahead.
Zhang Xing followed his gaze.
Three steps ahead of them, in a patch of damp mud, there was a massive footprint.
The print was larger than the combined size of two adult men’s feet, deeply pressed into the soil, with five clear claw marks along the edge.