By the time they arrived, a layer of clear water had already pooled in the tub. Old Mrs. Meng had been watching the whole time, letting out occasional exclamations of wonder.
Village Chief Meng and Doctor Feng leaned in, saw the now-clear water, and two pairs of incredulous eyes turned in unison toward Nan Jianli.
The girl was resting in the shadow of the wall, her expression calm, as if she didn’t think this was anything remarkable at all.
Doctor Feng’s eyes flickered. He stroked his half-white beard, rose, and walked over to Nan Jianli, his tone full of praise: “Miss—ah, Ali, this method of yours has solved our most urgent problem. How did you think of it?”
Nan Jianli didn’t hesitate for a moment. She opened her mouth and answered: “It wasn’t my idea—my father taught me. He was an escort guard, always traveling, and he’d run into all kinds of emergencies, so he figured out plenty of makeshift solutions. This water-filtering trick is one of them.”
Doctor Feng nodded repeatedly upon hearing this, and the look he gave her held a bit more approval: “Ali, this skill of yours has just saved the lives of the whole village.”
Village Chief Meng also stepped forward, his voice carrying an earnestness he couldn’t hide: “Ali, since you know these survival skills, we’ll have to rely on you a great deal on the road ahead.”
Nan Jianli stood up, her gaze sweeping over the villagers resting in clusters nearby, and said softly: “You’re too kind, Chief. We’re fellow villagers—we ought to help each other.”
Doctor Feng nodded again at that, then pressed further: “Since you remember your father, you must remember where your home is. Would you like the villagers to see you back?”
Nan Jianli: “My parents are both dead. Even if I went back, I’d be alone. Besides, I still have my younger brother and sister to look after—I can’t leave.”
Old Mrs. Meng came over and smiled with relief at her words, but thinking of how uncertain their survival was on this road, she couldn’t help but urge: “Ali, without your parents, is there any uncle or cousin left in your family? We don’t know what’s going to happen on this journey. If you can, you should go home—you’d have a better chance of living.”
Nan Jianli…
The escort-guard father was all made up. How would she know where the original owner’s home was? But that didn’t stop her from spinning more lies.
“Oh, I can’t go back.” Nan Jianli blinked, a hint of helplessness creeping into her voice. “My home is in Jingbian.”
That one sentence silenced everyone present.
Where was Jingbian? It was a place even farther north than Beiping Village, and they’d suffered even worse than here. Word was the people there were either dead or fled—it had long since become an empty city.
Nan Jianli lowered her head, putting on a pitiful look of having no one to turn to—but really, it was because her expression was too calm, and she was afraid someone would see through her.
Old Mrs. Meng’s heart truly ached for her. She plopped down beside Nan Jianli and wrapped an arm around her shoulder: “Don’t go, don’t go. This old woman will spare a bite from her own mouth—I’ll make sure our Ali is fed.”
The chief and Doctor Feng exchanged a glance, a flicker of deeper meaning passing through both their eyes.
The sun at the hour of Shen was still scorching, but the villagers didn’t dare delay. To reach the next resting spot before dark, they packed up their belongings on time and set out.
Nan Jianli wore a straw hat Old Mrs. Meng had just woven, which covered most of her face, finally sparing her skin from the harsh sun and giving her a bit more comfort.
At Nan Jianli’s strong insistence, Old Mrs. Meng sat on the cart and continued weaving straw hats. Meng Lou sat beside her, holding the already-combed dried grass for her.
Meng Boyang had been carried onto the plank cart by Meng Cheng, and Zhang Shi walked beside her son, pulling Meng Zhu along, wiping his sweat every now and then.
But no sooner had they set out than Nan Jianli noticed that Shen He—the younger of the Shen brothers, who should have been at the very front of the line—had fallen behind considerably and was now trailing after them.
The youth was only fourteen, but his steps were steady and light—clearly not a farmer. If he hadn’t been sneaking glances at them now and then, Nan Jianli wouldn’t have noticed him at all.
What’s this guy’s deal?
Suspicion rose in Nan Jianli’s mind. She kept walking forward while searching the original owner’s memories.
The Shen brothers had only settled in Beiping Village four years ago. Come to think of it, they’d arrived around the same time as Doctor Feng’s family. When the two brothers first showed up, they’d looked pretty rough.
Eighteen-year-old Shen Jiang wore a tattered set of clothes washed pale and covered in patches, leading ten-year-old Shen He behind him. The two of them had not a penny to their names, nor much in the way of luggage.
At first, the chief refused outright to take in these two strangers of unknown origin—until that year’s New Year’s Eve, when the clan’s New Year pig broke loose and ran wild.
All the able-bodied men of the clan chased it for half a day. Not only did they fail to catch the pig, they didn’t even touch a single bristle—instead, they got knocked over left and right.
Just as the mad pig was about to hurt someone, in that split second, Shen Jiang shot out, kicked the pig’s hind leg clean off, and brought it down.
That was what finally loosened the chief’s resolve. He allotted the brothers a rundown thatched hut at the edge of the village to stay in temporarily.
Who would’ve thought—that “temporary” stay would last four years.
But why was Shen He skulking along behind them like this?
The sun soon dipped, and the oppressive heat eased somewhat. The villagers still gritted their teeth, hurrying forward without daring to look at the refugees collapsed along the roadside.
In the afternoon, they encountered many refugees fleeing famine. These people were gaunt and sallow, their clothes in tatters, their eyes hollow and vacant.
Some stumbled forward leaning on wooden sticks, while others lay collapsed by the roadside, too weak even to cry for help—clearly at death’s door.
Whenever these people caught sight of the luggage on the villagers’ carts, their eyes would light up, and they would struggle forward, hoping to beg for a bite to eat.
They did look pitiful, but every villager had been given a strict order by the village chief before leaving their homes.
The journey ahead was long and the roads perilous; they must keep a low profile and under no circumstances show soft-heartedness by aiding the refugees. Otherwise, once targeted by them and attacked en masse, the consequences would be unimaginable—no one would be able to protect anyone else.
So, despite the reluctance in their hearts, the villagers could only harden their resolve, turn their faces away, and quicken their pace to hurry past.
As the sky dimmed, the group finally arrived at their pre-planned campsite—Dry River Gully.
This had once been a riverbed. Every year during the dry season, the water level would drop, sometimes disappearing entirely, hence the name Dry River Gully.
The reason the village chief had chosen this spot for the first night’s camp was to see if they could replenish their water supply here.
But only upon arriving did they realize what it meant to see a barren land stretching for miles with not a single blade of grass. The mud at the riverbed had been baked dry and cracked, letting out a crisp “creak, creak” sound with every step.
Seeing this scene, the villagers’ hearts sank.
Despair flooded through the crowd like a tide. Suppressed sobs leaked through the fingers of women covering their mouths, the stooped backs of the elderly trembled in the twilight, and even the usually steady men couldn’t help but let out heavy sighs.
Village Chief Meng stood at the very front of the group, looking at the scene before him. His rough hands clenched into fists as he struggled to steady his emotions. He knew that this was not the time to lose heart or to panic.
“Everyone, quiet down!” Village Chief Meng turned to face the villagers, his hoarse voice calling out orders. “Set up camp right here and start cooking.”
“Once everyone is settled, I’ll personally lead a group to find water.”
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