Jiang Qingshu held Linbao in her arms through a sleepless night. That damned Emperor Yan would not stop until he had driven her entire family to death.
But she was no longer the foolish woman who let others butcher her at will. If pushed too far, there was nothing she wouldn’t dare to do.
At a quarter past the Hour of the Tiger, the northern city gate opened on schedule.
After a night of fierce winds, signboards lay scattered across the streets. Fallen lanterns mixed with leaves and broken branches rolled about in the gusts.
Yet for the sake of survival, tenant farmers entering and leaving the city gradually began to gather once more.
Jiang Kun sent his eldest son, Jiang Fengyu, to buy rice, grain, and other necessities for the journey ahead.
Even if there truly were “benefactors” helping them behind the scenes, they could not shamelessly take everything for granted.
As long as they could still manage on their own, they should avoid owing favors.
Second son Jiang Yifeng went to scout the situation at the city gate.
Third son Jiang Chengyu found a tofu pudding stall on the street, and after the family packed up, they waited there to regroup.
Jiang Yifeng secretly discovered that nearly a hundred additional guards had been stationed atop the northern gate tower. Wanted portraits of their entire family had also been posted beneath the city walls.
And these guards were not ordinary constables—they were elite city defense troops, highly trained and disciplined.
Jiang Yifeng hurried back and informed Jiang Kun of the situation.
“Does this mean we’re trapped inside the city now?” Sun Yuluo exclaimed angrily.
Jiang Kun pondered briefly. How could he possibly fight against trained city defense elites while protecting women and children?
“For now…”
“Pack up quickly! Refugees are entering the city!”
The tofu pudding vendor’s wife suddenly came rushing over, shouting to her husband in alarm.
Following the old couple’s frightened gaze, Jiang Qingshu saw exactly as they had said: a stream of ragged, travel-worn refugees was pouring into the street from the direction they had entered the city the night before.
There were roughly one or two hundred people.
The southernmost provinces of Yan State were suffering from devastating droughts. The land had become barren for thousands of miles.
Over the past weeks, refugees fleeing the south had continuously streamed into the city.
The shops along the street shut their doors one after another as though avoiding the plague.
While hurriedly packing up their stall, the elderly couple still found time to warn the Jiang family.
“You all should be careful. Some refugees are like starving rats—they rob wherever they go. We’re terrified of them…”
“Father, why aren’t the refugees heading to the capital instead of traveling in the opposite direction?” Jiang Luoyou asked in confusion.
“That dog of an emperor cares most about saving face. How could he tolerate these unsightly refugees wandering beneath his nose? They were probably driven out of the capital,” Sun Yuluo cursed.
As Jiang Qingshu watched the disheveled refugees, an idea suddenly flashed through her mind.
She tiptoed to Jiang Kun’s side and whispered a few words into his ear.
“Father, why don’t we…”
Less than half an hour later, the refugees surged toward the northern city gate.
The guards responsible for the gate wished they could stay far away from these filthy, foul-smelling people.
But tempted by the hefty reward money, they still inspected each person leaving the city.
Fortunately, the Jiang family had prepared in advance. Everyone had smeared yellow mud mixed with cow dung across their faces.
Just as the inspection was about to reach them, Jiang Qingshu quietly dumped dozens of steamed buns from her sleeve.
“Ah! Steamed buns!” she shouted loudly.
At once, the orderly line of refugees collapsed into chaos. Seeing food, the starving masses desperately shoved forward.
Very quickly, the situation spiraled out of control. More than a hundred refugees rushed toward the gate together, thinking that even if they died, they would at least die full.
The Jiang family seized the opportunity and slipped out alongside the refugees amidst the confusion.
Soon the buns on the ground were completely snatched up, and the chaos gradually subsided.
Those lucky enough to grab food ate with lingering satisfaction, while those who failed could only tighten their belts once more.
The guards, knocked sprawling all over the ground, cursed furiously beneath the city walls and vented their anger by whipping the refugees behind them.
After deciding to disguise themselves as refugees to leave the city, Jiang Kun had Jiang Fengyu trade their covered carriage for two horse-drawn flatbed carts.
His injuries had already recovered about eighty percent, enough for him to walk on his own.
One cart carried blankets and food hidden beneath hay, while the other carried the children.
This made them appear more like refugees and less likely to attract suspicion.
The family quietly kept their heads down and followed the refugee crowd forward. The children behaved well, sitting silently on the carts.
Only after the city walls disappeared from sight did they finally relax a little.
About half a mile ahead was a fork in the road. Jiang Kun signaled for his children to gather near him, preparing to split from the refugee group at the roadside.
“You folks look unfamiliar. You’re not from Jin’an, are you?”
At that moment, a skinny, dark-skinned old man suddenly approached Jiang Kun.
Jiang Kun glanced at the elderly man, who appeared even older than himself, and quickly understood.
“We’re from Qishan. We came to Qianzhou to seek relatives, but something happened to them. Left with no choice, we’re taking our family home.”
“Nowhere is peaceful anymore. Living is hard. Wanting to live well is even harder.”
“You’re right, brother. Are you all from Jin’an?”
Jiang Kun knew Jin’an lay in the southeast and had repeatedly become a battlefield due to its strategic location.
Despair clouded the old man’s murky eyes.
“Ah, the people of Jin’an suffer terribly. Years of war ruined all our farmland. We survived on wild vegetables and tree bark. Then Heaven gave us no mercy at all—not a drop of rain for two years. Even the wild plants dried up. If we still had a way to survive, who would willingly become beggars?”
Jiang Kun sympathized deeply.
“Did you ever make it to the capital?”
The old man let out a bitter laugh full of self-mockery.
“That’s where the Son of Heaven lives. Filthy beggars like us would only be met with disdain.”
Jiang Qingshu looked at the homeless refugees. They resembled skeletons weathered by endless hardship. Whether old or young, their eyes were utterly lifeless.
As they approached the fork in the road, Jiang Kun signaled the family to prepare to change direction.
Suddenly, a woman in the crowd collapsed to the ground.
The surrounding people acted as though such a scene were perfectly ordinary, deliberately ignoring it.
Jiang Qingshu was startled when she saw a small boy—about Linbao’s age but far thinner—push through the crowd and run over.
“Mother! Don’t die!”
The boy threw himself onto his unmoving mother, shaking her and crying loudly.
Tang Shuangshuang and Jiang Fengyu, who were closest, immediately hurried over.
Tang Shuangshuang crouched down and checked the woman’s pulse.
“She’s too weak. If she keeps starving like this, she could die at any moment.”
Hearing this, Jiang Qingshu quietly turned around, intending to fetch some water for the woman, when Jiang Luoyou approached.
“Big Brother, Father said to give this to her.”
Following Jiang Kun’s instructions, Jiang Luoyou brought over a flatbread and half a bag of water.
Jiang Kun originally had no intention of meddling, but when he saw the child, he could not help thinking of his own grandchildren.
Still, for the safety of his family, he could only spare a tiny amount of food and water.
There were over a hundred refugees here. Human nature under extreme conditions could become terrifying.
If anyone openly displayed too much kindness and food, it could easily spark disaster.
Jiang Qingshu understood this. Jiang Kun understood it even more clearly.
Tang Shuangshuang helped the woman sit up and fed her a few mouthfuls of water. At last, the woman opened her eyes.
“We don’t have much food ourselves. Take this and save your life.”
The weak woman stared at the flatbread as though a spark of light had suddenly ignited in her eyes. She grabbed it and devoured it hungrily.
Just when Jiang Qingshu thought she would swallow it whole, the woman tore half of it off and handed it to her son.
Mother and son clung to each other as they ate, nervously glancing around them.
Jiang Qingshu looked up and saw a crowd of starving refugees pressing toward them, their eyes gleaming hungrily. If the mother and child had not already finished eating, a violent scramble for food would surely have broken out.
“Thank you… thank you, benefactors…”
After regaining a little strength, the woman pulled her son down to kowtow repeatedly before Tang Shuangshuang and her husband.
Just as the couple urged them to stand, a series of galloping hoofbeats suddenly echoed from behind.
Everyone turned around to see a squad of city guards charging toward them through clouds of flying dust.
Why were they chasing after them? Had they been exposed?
The Jiang family instinctively tensed.