The heavy wheels of the ox cart rolled over the last slab of stone on the main road with a creak, then turned onto a secluded path leading toward the back hills of Liu Family Village.
Moonlight was shredded by the dense trees on both sides, scattering in patches across the uneven dirt road.
The surroundings were so quiet that only the chirping of insects and the grinding of wheels over gravel could be heard—harsh and jarring in the dead of night.
On the cart, Liu Xiaoman, Liu Laoshi, and He Xiaoling—who had come specially to help—were all as tense as drawn bows.
He Xiaoling clutched the corner of her faded clothes tightly, her knuckles pale.
Liu Laoshi rested a well-polished woodcutting knife across his legs, his sharp eyes scanning the dark forest on both sides like a hawk. His palms were slick with sweat.
“Third Uncle, use this.” Liu Xiaoman took out a small paper packet from her sleeve and handed it to him—it was the beast-repelling powder given by Shopkeeper Qian. Lowering her voice, she said, “Scatter a circle around the wheels. Quietly.”
Liu Laoshi nodded in understanding, carefully leaning out to sprinkle the pungent powder evenly. The strange smell—a mix of realgar and herbs—quickly drove away the damp, earthy scent of the forest.
Just as the cart crept cautiously through the darkness, nearing a small grove by the village entrance, a sudden burst of furious barking shattered the silence!
“Woof! Woof! Woof!” It was the fiercest black dog from Butcher Liu’s house in the east of the village. Its sharp, aggressive barking carried far into the night.
Their hearts leapt into their throats.
Liu Laoshi and He Xiaoling turned deathly pale. Liu Laoshi’s hand trembled as he instinctively moved to stop the cart.
“Don’t stop! Go! Push through!” Liu Xiaoman ordered decisively, her voice low but commanding.
She snatched the whip from Liu Laoshi, jumped off the cart, and, together with him, covered the frightened ox’s eyes with cloth. Half-pushing, half-driving, they forced the cart to surge forward.
The wheels spun wildly, jolting as if they might fall apart.
Bent low, the three of them pressed their bodies down as far as possible, using all their strength to push the cart through the most dangerous stretch amid the deafening barking.
Gradually, the sound of the dog faded behind them. Fortunately, no one in the village seemed to have been alerted.
When they finally stopped, their backs were drenched in cold sweat, and they gasped for breath.
Leaning against the wheel, Liu Xiaoman felt a surge of relief.
Luckily, they had chosen the most remote route—otherwise, tonight’s operation would have been exposed.
At the same time, she clearly realized that as their stockpile grew, the risks and difficulty of transportation would increase exponentially.
The cart jolted through the darkness for a long while before finally arriving safely at the familiar pile of rocks in the back hills.
Liu Xiaoman skillfully retrieved a hidden torch from a concealed bush and lit it with a fire starter.
Orange flames sprang to life, dispelling the darkness and illuminating the hidden path leading to the waterfall cave.
When Liu Laoshi and He Xiaoling followed her, pushing aside damp vines, passing through the cold curtain of water, and stepping into the cave for the first time, they froze in shock.
The firelight revealed the interior—what had once been a somewhat empty cave was now piled into a small mountain!
Sacks of grain neatly stacked, bundles of coarse cloth arranged in rows—the sight formed a striking scene under the flickering light.
The overwhelming sense of abundance and security left the lifelong poor couple speechless, only able to let out unconscious gasps of amazement.
After the initial shock came an explosive surge of energy.
Without needing any prompting, Liu Laoshi and He Xiaoling immediately got to work.
They unloaded heavy sacks of grain, bundles of cloth, and boxes of sorted medicines and tools from the cart, carrying them into the cave.
Sweat quickly soaked their clothes, but their faces glowed with almost feverish excitement.
“Third Uncle, raise the grain off the ground—lay oilcloth underneath to keep out moisture.”
While carrying lighter bundles of cloth, Liu Xiaoman calmly directed them. “Put the medicines on that dry stone platform. Stack the iron tools separately, away from the fabric.”
The storage knowledge she demonstrated, though simple, far exceeded that of ordinary farmers of the time.
The couple followed her instructions without question, marveling at her thoroughness. They now fully believed in her claim of guidance from a “wise person.”
Looking at the ever-growing pile of supplies, He Xiaoling wiped her sweat and murmured dreamily,
“Good heavens… this… this is even fuller than the granary of that rich Master Wang in town…”
That one sentence captured the vast gap in survival resources between ordinary farmers and the wealthy—and made them realize just how hard-won all of this was.
After everything was unloaded, the three of them were utterly exhausted, collapsing onto the ground in front of the supplies.
Outside the cave, the waterfall roared thunderously, but inside there was an unprecedented sense of peace and security.
Liu Xiaoman handed them her water flask. As they drank the cool spring water and looked at the fruits of their labor, a quiet sense of hope spread and took root within the cave.
While taking stock of the supplies, He Xiaoling stroked a sack of rice and asked softly, puzzled,
“Xiaoman… with this much, even if our two families eat freely, it would last ten years. The poor harvest you mentioned… just how bad will it be?”
With that question, the warm atmosphere in the cave seemed to be abruptly cut off.
Liu Laoshi’s expression also turned serious. He stopped what he was doing, turned his head, and looked straight at Liu Xiaoman, waiting for a real answer.
Liu Xiaoman knew that simple excuses were no longer enough to support the mountain of supplies built with silver and effort.
She had to reveal more of the truth about the future to the only allies she could trust—binding them fully to her “ark.”
After a moment of silence, she lifted her head to meet their gazes—filled with trust, doubt, and a trace of unease.
Taking a deep breath of the cold, damp air, she spoke with unprecedented seriousness, word by word:
“Third Uncle, Third Aunt… it’s not just a poor harvest. What I foresee is… a catastrophe so great that it may starve countless people to death.”
The firelight flickered violently, casting their grave faces in shifting shadows.