As soon as Lin Sisi finished speaking, a skeptical voice rang out.
“A mere girl, what could she possibly understand?”
It was Zhao Hu, a burly villager, his hands gripping the handle of his hoe until it shone.
“The rocky slope is bare. If bandits appear, we’d be sitting ducks! I say we go into the forest nearby—trees can block them, and we can ambush if needed.”
Another middle-aged man echoed, doubt in his eyes: “She’s just a young girl. Scared, imagining things. We have elders and children—can we really let her make the call? Who takes responsibility if something goes wrong?”
“Trying to show off, that’s what!” Zhao Hu’s brother, Zhao Bao, joined in. “Once a sickly little girl, now daring to give orders?”
Lin Sisi didn’t argue, simply looked at Village Chief Li.
“Chief, the eastern forest seems hidden, but it’s labyrinthine. If those refugees gather, the elderly and children couldn’t hide in time,” she said.
“The rocky slope has only one pass. If we guard it, even if they’re numerous, they can’t break through. That’s the safest approach.”
Zhao Hu sneered. “You can’t be sure it’s safe. What if there are many attackers? Can a young girl protect us? If our food is stolen or people harmed, can you pay for it?”
Lin Zheng stepped forward, protective: “Sisi’s thinking of everyone. Her plan is solid—she’s right!”
“For the group? I think it’s just for showing off!” Zhao Bao retorted.
Village Chief Li raised his hand, silencing the argument. He had seen much in his life—he knew Lin Sisi’s plan was better, but the villagers resisted simply because she was young and female.
He spoke firmly, “Sisi is correct. The rocky slope is easy to defend. Zhao Hu, if you’re worried, you and your brother guard the pass. We’ll set multiple layers of defense—better than getting scattered.”
Zhao Hu grumbled but obeyed. “Fine. But if anything happens, she’s accountable!”
Lin Sisi ignored his threat. “As long as everyone follows the plan and guards the pass, the food and villagers will be safe.”
The villagers quickly set up camp on the rocky slope.
As the sun set and mountain winds howled, Lin Sisi discreetly gave some spirit spring water to the young guards. “Drink up. Stay alert tonight.”
Soon, footsteps crunching on gravel grew louder.
“Here they come!” a young guard whispered, gripping his hoe.
Five shadows dashed forward under the night’s cover—the same refugees who had been lurking earlier.
They didn’t expect any defense. At the pass, their leader was struck in the stomach by Zhao Hu’s stick, yelped in pain, and tumbled to the ground.
“Ambush!” someone yelled. But with weapons raised, they charged madly, wooden sticks and knives swinging.
“Hold the pass! Don’t let them in!” Village Chief Li shouted. Villagers formed a line, defending with hoes and poles.
Lin Sisi and Lin Zheng stayed by the carts. Seeing one refugee attempt to climb the side rocks, Lin Sisi hurled a stone at his knee. He cried out and rolled down the slope.
“The food is our lifeline! Fight!” The villagers, women included, grabbed stones and fought fiercely. Aunt Yang’s swings even sparked sparks from the rocks.
Though the refugees were vicious, the villagers had numbers and terrain advantage.
Soon, the leader was struck on the shoulder, dropping his knife. The others, battered and bleeding, fear replaced greed.
“Stop! We surrender!” one cried, kneeling. The others followed, dropping their weapons.
Village Chief Li raised his staff. “You are also victims of famine. Why resort to harming others?”
The leader, face smeared with blood, panted: “We… we were starving. We saw your food… just wanted some…”
Lin Sisi sneered, eyes narrowing at the dried blood on their waists. “Starving? Then whose blood is that? Did you rob and hurt others?”
The refugees went silent.
Village Chief Li said firmly, “Life is hard for everyone, but harming others is unforgivable. Tie them up—tomorrow morning, leave them here. Let it teach a lesson.”
The young men bound the five firmly.
“Brother, check the ropes again!” Lin Sisi instructed, unease gnawing at her.
Just then, Lin Qingqing appeared from the crowd, accompanied by a scholar-like man.
It was Gu Qinglin.
Tall and handsome, his face still pale from illness, he looked at the tied refugees with sympathy.
“Village Chief, Sisi,” Gu Qinglin hesitated, “they were forced into desperation. They’re victims of famine—no need to utterly destroy them. Perhaps we could share some food and let them leave. Sisi, you are kindhearted; don’t soil your hands over this.”
Lin Sisi stared at him, dumbfounded. Could such a saintly man truly exist?
Lin Qingqing, watching their silent exchange, felt a pang in her chest. She quickly switched to a tearful, innocent demeanor, tugging at Gu Qinglin’s sleeve:
“Brother Qinglin, don’t be too soft…” Her watery eyes pointed at the bound refugees. “See the blood on them? Terrifying, isn’t it? They must have just killed someone…”