The cart had been stripped down to the essentials, but even so, it was still heavy with a full load. Nan Jianli reached out and placed her hand on one of the wrapped bundles of grain. With a flick of her thoughts, the bundle vanished.
One by one, the iron pot, the clay jars, and the bolts of old cloth disappeared as well, all tucked away into her portable space.
She rearranged the remaining odds and ends, then pulled the oilcloth over everything to cover it up. At a glance, the cart still looked piled high, with no sign of anything unusual.
Only after finishing all of this did Nan Jianli retreat to the wall and sit down, letting out a small sigh of relief.
She licked her dry, cracked lips, picked up her waterskin, and gave it a shake. Only half was left. In this barren, drought-stricken land, if she couldn’t find a water source in time, it would truly be a matter of life and death.
She did have water in her space—but could she even get it out?
Was the water in her space any different from regular water? Would it be too easy for people to notice?
If she wanted to bring the water out, did she need to go in herself, or could she use her will?
Nan Jianli clutched the waterskin, a hundred thoughts racing through her mind. Old Mrs. Meng opened her eyes and saw her holding the waterskin with a grim, troubled expression. She guessed the girl wanted to drink but was reluctant to waste it.
Seeing how considerate she was, the old woman’s heart ached. She got up, walked over to Nan Jianli, and spoke softly: “If A’li wants to drink, then drink. Don’t begrudge the water. The sky may be dry, but there’s still water in the deep wells. Your eldest uncle and the others will surely find some.”
Nan Jianli snapped back to attention, looked up at the old woman, and smiled with a nod. She was just about to raise her hand for a sip when she felt a dampness at her fingertip, faintly forming into a trickle of water.
Startled, Nan Jianli clenched her fist without showing any reaction, silently chanting in her mind: No water, no water. At the same time, she glanced up at Old Mrs. Meng.
Seeing the old woman pick up a sickle by the cart and start to walk off, she quickly called out, “Grandma, where are you going?”
Old Mrs. Meng waved a hand without turning back, stepping into the blazing sun: “You rest. I’ll go pull some dry grass.”
Nan Jianli was still shaken by the dampness at her fingertip, so she didn’t think much of it. She only reminded her to be careful before turning her gaze away.
Observing that no one around was paying attention to her, Nan Jianli stretched out her hand and silently commanded: Come, water, come. The dampness at her fingertip instantly intensified, stronger than before.
Nan Jianli turned her back and had just brought her finger to her lips when a cool stream of water burst forth, instantly moistening her entire mouth.
The spring water flowed down her throat, and the dry, burning sensation faded at once. There was even a faint sweetness lingering on her tongue. After several big gulps, the exhaustion in her body vanished, and the sun-stung, stinging skin on her face eased considerably.
Nan Jianli’s eyes lit up with joy. She grabbed the waterskin and pressed her finger to the opening, quickly filling it halfway.
She didn’t fill it all the way—not because she didn’t want to, but mainly because she was worried that a full skin would raise unnecessary suspicion.
Just then, Old Mrs. Meng came back carrying a bundle of dry grass. Nan Jianli hurried over to take it from her, then held out the waterskin.
“Grandma, have a drink.”
Old Mrs. Meng saw that her eldest son still hadn’t returned and smiled, shaking her head in refusal. Nan Jianli paid her no mind, shoving the waterskin into her hands and shaking it so the water sloshed out, splashing onto the old woman’s withered hands.
“Hey, you little wretch, always so reckless. What a waste.” Old Mrs. Meng scolded, then quickly brought her hands to her mouth, licking off the remaining droplets.
But as the water touched her lips, she froze slightly. As if unsure of the taste, she cautiously brought the waterskin to her mouth and took a small sip.
This water… why is it sweet? Did her daughter-in-law add sugar?
That couldn’t be right. She’d taken a sip on the road earlier, and it was just plain water.
Old Mrs. Meng’s gaze shifted to Nan Jianli, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. She leaned in and asked, “A’li, did you put sugar in the water?”
Nan Jianli raised her face with a blank, innocent look, as if she had no idea what the old woman was talking about.
Old Mrs. Meng was about to press further when she saw Meng Sanping come running back, beaming, clutching a jar in his hands. His dark face was covered in fine beads of sweat.
Seeing this, the old woman forgot all about her questions. She quickly handed the waterskin to her son and urged him to drink, her voice full of concern.
Meng Sanping carefully set the water he’d found on the ground, took the waterskin, and gulped down two big mouthfuls. Then he prepared to set up the pot to boil water. Nan Jianli glanced at the murky, muddy water and felt her heart sink.
“Uncle, is this the kind of water you all found?” Nan Jianli’s expression turned serious.
Old Mrs. Meng also looked at the water in the clay jar and frowned with a sigh: “How did the water get so muddy?”
“It’s fine.” Meng Sanping said cheerfully. “It looks dirty, but once it settles, it’s still drinkable. Once we get out of here and reach a place to settle down, everything will be fine.”
Seeing that Meng Sanping was about to boil the water, Nan Jianli hurried forward to stop him, her brows furrowed in deep disapproval. “Drinking this water will make people sick. We’ve only been out half a day. If the whole village’s labor force collapses, there’s no point in fleeing this wasteland—we might as well turn around and head home.”
Meng Sanping was taken aback. He looked down at the murky water, a flicker of unease stirring in his heart. If what A’li said was true, then the entire village would have no way to survive.
“Can’t drink it? Then what, die of thirst?” Old Mrs. Meng clutched the water jar, unwilling to let go, the corners of her mouth turned down in regret.
“She can drink it, but it needs to be treated first.”
With that, Nan Jianli walked over to the cart, tore off a strip of cotton cloth, and ripped it into two pieces. She propped up the clay jar filled with muddy water, placed another jar beside it slightly lower than the first, then dipped one end of the cloth strip into the muddy water and draped the other end over the edge of the lower jar.
“Uncle, look,” she said, pointing at the junction where the cloth met the jar. “In a moment, clean water will seep down along the cloth and drip into the jar below. Once it’s filtered and boiled, the water will be safe.”
Meng Sanping crouched down and stared at the cloth strip for a long while. When he saw clear water actually dripping into the jar, he immediately slapped his thigh in excitement. “A Li, this method of yours is brilliant! The muddy water really does turn clean.”
Nan Jianli curved her lips slightly, but seeing him still crouched there without moving, she couldn’t help urging him, “Uncle, you’d better go find the village chief right away and tell everyone in the village about this method. Don’t let it be too late—someone might already be drinking the muddy water.”
“Right, right, right, hurry and go.” Old Mrs. Meng also urged him on.
Meng Sanping responded and started running toward where the village chief was staying. He’d only taken two steps when he heard Nan Jianli raise her voice behind him: “Remember! After filtering, you must boil it before drinking!”
Without even turning his head, he shouted back, “Got it.”
Over there, the village chief was holding a clay jar, staring at the muddy water in deep thought. Beside him crouched Doctor Feng, his face grim.
Meng Sanping ran over, and the moment he saw the scene, he knew exactly what was going on. He immediately pointed at the jar of muddy water and said, “Village chief, there’s a way! This muddy water can be made clean!”
The village chief’s head shot up, a glint of light bursting from his murky eyes. “Sanping, what did you say? Don’t you dare fool me!” Doctor Feng also straightened up and leaned half a step closer.
Meng Sanping wiped the sweat from his brow and laid out Nan Jianli’s method of filtering water through cotton cloth in full detail, not even leaving out the reminder that “it must be boiled after filtering.”
“I saw the clear water dripping down with my own eyes. A Li’s method—there’s no mistake!”
The village chief and Doctor Feng exchanged a glance. Their faces showed hesitation, doubt, and a hint of disbelief. The village chief frowned at Meng Sanping and asked, “This A Li you speak of—who is she?”
Meng Sanping paused, then slapped his own forehead with a wry laugh and explained, “I’m getting all muddled. A Li is Da Niu. She’s better now and remembered her old name—Nan Jianli.”
“The girl wants to go back to her birth name, and Mother and I have no objections, so we just call her A Li now.”
“Nan Jianli.” Doctor Feng stroked his beard in thought for a moment. “This is using the cloth to absorb and seep out the sediment, then boiling the water. The method sounds sound enough—it should work.”
The village chief hesitated no longer. He immediately called out to a few young men and sent them off in different directions to spread the word, while he himself grabbed Doctor Feng and followed Meng Sanping toward Nan Jianli, determined to see this life-saving method with his own eyes.
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