Shen-Liu, noticing that the chicken was already not fresh, didn’t say anything.
She laid a mat on the oilcloth and lay down. Her broken arm hadn’t received proper treatment, and the pain was severe, but in her mind, she continued cursing Shen Yong’an’s family. Only by venting her hatred did the pain feel slightly bearable.
Xie Jinhua quickly washed the chopped chicken, boiled some water with the remaining firewood, and threw the chicken into the pot. There were hardly any seasonings, just a little salt. Soon, a strong, unpleasant smell of chicken filled the air.
Since being beaten last time, Shen Xu spoke very little. He sat off to the side, only watching Shen Cui, who dared not meet his eyes, while helping Xie Jinhua tend the fire.
Xie Jinhua poked the ground with a stick, muttering curses as if she were stabbing Old Shen-Liu herself. “Damn it! Tried to stew you yesterday and you wouldn’t let me, wasting all that food, old hag! Why didn’t you just die earlier?”
At the last sentence—“Why didn’t you just die earlier?”—Shen-Liu suddenly sat up, her narrow eyes narrowing, and demanded, “Who are you cursing?”
Xie Jinhua was startled, quickly forcing a laugh. “Mother, I’m cursing the eldest’s family.” Only then did Shen-Liu turn over and lie back down.
Xie Jinhua shot her mother a glare, no longer daring to speak.
Shen Yongcai brought back some firewood, and Shen Yongtian carried some under one arm. By then, the chicken was nearly cooked. Though the smell was awful, it was still meat, and the whole family devoured the two chickens.
Shen Yongcai now did whatever was asked. He knew how to pick his battles—he couldn’t even contend with Shen Yu’s combat skills, let alone fight her. For now, he would play it safe, but one day, when the chance arose, he wouldn’t forgive that family.
Shen Yu slipped into the tent and set up the simple bamboo bed again, laying out the moisture-proof mat and bedding. Lin Shuyuan curled up with little Shen Hao, while Shen Yu drew diagrams beside them. She was designing their future home, determined that upon reaching their destination, the first thing she would do was build a large house so she could have her own private room.
But before long, a torrential rainstorm fell from the sky. The raindrops hammered the tent with a loud patter. Luckily, the tent was on high ground, so no water pooled inside.
The tent, built just that morning, now played a critical role.
Villagers huddled inside, listening to the rain, feeling even more grateful to Shen Yu.
Those who had followed Shen Yu’s advice and built wooden frames under their tents found only slightly damp bedding.
Others who hadn’t followed her instructions had everything soaked, forced to sit up and doze rather than sleep.
The Shen-Liu family’s makeshift shelter couldn’t withstand the heavy rain. Within moments, it collapsed, leaving their bedding drenched. They had no choice but to huddle under the oilcloth, shivering in the cold.
Shen Cui, thinking of Shen Yu sleeping comfortably in her tent, burned with jealousy. She gritted her teeth. “Why does that brat get to live better than me? I’ll find a way to kill her! She can’t live better than I do—she must die!” Murder flashed in her eyes.
The rain came suddenly and left quickly. After about half an hour, it eased, then stopped completely. The moon peeked through the clouds, and stars twinkled across the sky.
The rain didn’t affect Shen Yu’s family much—they still rested well. When they woke in the morning, they were full of energy, especially with the fresh, sweet air after the rain.
Regardless of whether the villagers had rested well, breakfast finished, they had to move on. The group rejoined the main road.
The recently rained-on road was full of mud, making travel difficult. Villagers who hadn’t rested well and had dark circles under their eyes lagged behind, trudging wearily, hoping to take a break at noon. Among them was Shen Laizi’s family.
Their luggage had also been soaked by last night’s rain. Shen Laizi slapped Sun Zhaodi, “Stupid woman! You can’t even manage our luggage. Look how wet it is—what use are you?”
Sun Zhaodi didn’t dare reply. Their bedding had been drenched, leaving them sleepless. Seeing other families with tents, she deeply regretted provoking Shen Yu.
A few families with spare oilcloth discussed with the village chief, wanting to share materials. They had suffered the night without tents and didn’t want a repeat.
“Whoever has extra oilcloth, share it. Whatever the cost, we help each other—don’t get sick and hold the group back,” the village chief urged.
Soon, several families contributed their surplus. Shen Yu had brought the most. The materials were shared so that every family could have a tent, even Shen Laizi’s.
As they traveled, the villagers learned to make tents while on the move. Though more refugees crowded the road, Shenjia Village’s group stayed strong. The strong men and women at the outskirts, wielding hoes and sickles, created a natural deterrent, keeping other travelers at a safe distance.
The storm hadn’t reduced the day’s heat. Before noon, the sun already scorched their skin.
Worried about heatstroke, Shen Yu approached the village chief. “Second Grandfather, this weather is harsh. Let’s find some shade to rest, and we can dry out our bedding.”
“You’re right, Yu. Ahead are a few large trees. Let’s rest there,” the old village chief agreed. He trusted Shen Yu’s judgment—without her, they would likely have been killed by the barbarians or starved on the road.
He directed everyone to find a shaded area to rest. Not far from the road, they spread out bedding and clothes to dry. Some villagers also found hidden spots to secretly dry their precious grain—too valuable to waste.
The sun was intense. Wet bedding from last night dried about 70–80% after an hour and a half.
Lin Shuyuan also dried bedding and took out winter cotton-padded clothes to sun them. The weather would cool soon, and thicker clothes needed to be ready.
Families without tents quickly finished making them during the noon break.
Those who hadn’t slept well took a short nap under the trees. By afternoon, everyone’s spirits were much improved.
They rushed over thirty li that afternoon. The old village chief estimated that, at this pace, they could reach Zhuangyuan Prefecture within two days, though he didn’t know what conditions awaited them there.
As evening approached, the old village chief had everyone stop by a small grove beside the road to spend the night.