WSMTATMC C99

Chapter 99

As the carriage entered town, only one word remained—silence.

The entire town was eerily still; the main streets that were usually a clamor held not a single soul in sight.

On East Street, someone sat by the roadside at a distance, mouth opening and closing as if trying to speak. Cao Kun called out, “Hey, brother—have you heard how the Chen family in town is faring?”

There was no response. After a long moment the figure suddenly opened his mouth wider; Cao Kun thought he was about to speak, but instead a huge rat crawled out from between his lips.

“Eh!” Cao Kun yelped, snapping the reins to rush away.

In the carriage, Lin Qiu clutched his son, shaking uncontrollably—too frightened to look outside, afraid that one upward glance would land on a corpse.

From the moment they entered town, the only goal had been the Chen residence. That short segment of road felt longer than the entire journey. At last, they reached the Chen family gate.

Seeing the doors shut tight, Cao Kun took a deep breath and stepped forward to knock.

He had decided that if no one answered, he would take Lin Qiu straight back; he feared that entering to find kin dead would break him entirely.

After a long wait with no sound within, Cao Kun turned to go—when a voice asked, “Who is it?”

Startled, Cao Kun quickly replied, “I’m the son-in-law of this household. May I ask whether my mother-in-law and Madam are well?”

When Chen Bo recognized the visitor, he was delighted. “Has the young master by marriage arrived?”

On the carriage, Lin Qiu lifted the curtain at once. “Uncle Chen, it’s me. Are my mother and Sui’er well?”

“Well—all well. Wait a moment; I’ll fetch them.”

Soon, Wang Ying came from the inner courtyard and first stopped Chen Bo from opening the gate. “Cao Kun, you didn’t touch any bodies on the road, did you?”

“No—we avoided them as fast as we could. Why would we go near them?”

“And the living—did you encounter any?”

Cao Kun said, “We ran into a few who tried to rob the carriage; I scared them off with a blade. Nothing else.”

Wang Ying let out a breath and had Chen Bo open the doors to let them in.

“What happened?” Cao Kun asked as he halted the carriage.

“Several days ago an epidemic broke out in the city—many have died. It’s unclear how many living remain.”

Wang Ying had Daniu and the others bring wormwood for fumigation and had the three of them smoked in turn; after changing their clothes, they returned to the inner court.

At the sudden reunion, eyes reddened all around. Lin Sui clung to his elder brother and sobbed, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Lin Qiu embraced his brother, heart aching. Chen Rong immediately took her grandson from his arms and kissed the child in elation. “We never imagined you’d make it back. Does little Mai still remember Grandma?”

Xiao Mai was over eight months old now, four tiny milk teeth in his gums. He gnawed his fist, unafraid of strangers, gaze roaming curiously over everything.

It was Madam Li’s first time seeing him; she cupped his little face. “Such a handsome child—he takes after Lin Qiu!”

Once inside, everyone began to talk. Lin Qiu said, “We never thought the flood would rise so high. On the way here, there were corpses everywhere; almost no intact houses along the road. We worried for you all, afraid…” He choked and could not go on.

Chen Rong’s nose stung and tears slipped free. “When the flood came, we happened to be at the manor. The rain grew too heavy, and Ying’er led the entire village up the mountain to take shelter. That very afternoon the deluge broke. We escaped by a hair.”

Wang Ying asked, “How was the county seat? Was the water high?”

Cao Kun said, “The county fared better. The city wall kept the water flowing off to the sides; within the walls, flooding wasn’t severe. It receded after a few days. My mother’s old house was on higher ground—the water barely rose over the knee. Our place lies lower; we laid planks across the roof and slept up there for several nights until the water went down.”

Wang Ying could not help a quiet inward sigh. Clearly, living in a larger city was safer—if they had been in the county seat, even in such a calamity the house might not have been smashed apart.

“Do you have enough food these days? On the way here, we met several gangs trying to rob grain.”

Madam Li said, “No need to worry about food. The storeroom stores weren’t soaked; there’s enough to last several months.”

Lin Qiu set the child down. “Grain prices in the county are terrifying now. When I left, I wanted to bring more with me, but at the grain shop they said a dou of rice was three hundred cash—and they wouldn’t let anyone buy much. Two dou per visit at most.”

Hearing this, Wang Ying felt a prickle in his chest. The wheat in the field had just been harvested—over six thousand jin stocked now—but he would not profiteer off disaster. For the present, it was enough to keep those around him fed and safe.

“In such a flood, the court won’t sit idle,” he said. “With luck, relief granaries will be opened and aid dispatched soon.”

Madam Li sighed. “Heaven grant it.”

With the family gathered, there was at last no looming fear. That night, Aunt Chen steamed a great pot of sugar buns—the sugar had been what they’d carried up the mountain.

They sat in the courtyard eating sweet buns under the moon’s pale light; spirits rose with each bite.

Yuanbao soon grew drowsy, head bobbing. Wang Ying carried him inside to sleep, while the adults continued talking.

“Staying in the annex isn’t a long-term plan,” someone said. “There’s not much left in town.”

Wang Ying said, “We haven’t decided yet. If it’s truly untenable, we’ll go with you to the county in a few days.”

“Good!” Lin Qiu brightened. “We can find you a place to stay first, settle in, and then buy a house. Prices in the county aren’t too high at the moment. I heard a courtyard on North Street can be had for just over six hundred strings.”

Chen Rong clicked her tongue.

Lin Qiu nodded. “It used to be over a thousand. The flood drove many wealthy households away; the poor can’t afford to buy, and the rich resettle elsewhere, so prices fell.”

Six hundred-odd strings was within reach—but Wang Ying wanted, in truth, to move to Jizhou Prefecture. Next year, when the county exam ended, Qingyan and the others would need to go on to the prefectural and provincial exam. Rather than shuttling back and forth, better to take one decisive step.

However, the town was far from Jizhou; without a guide and protection, traveling there would be fraught. Who knew what bandits might lie in wait along the way? Better to first settle in the county seat and reconsider.

After three days, they packed up to head to the county.

Dunzi had wife and child at the manor; Wang Ying didn’t take him along. Of the other men, he invited the rest to return with them, but only four agreed; the remaining three refused to leave.

Tian Daniu said, “Mother says the master saved us all. I’ll repay by serving the master as beast and man.”

The other two—one was Ma Qianzi, who had often bought popsicles, and another a young man named Chen Fang.

Ma Qianzi said, “My parents are gone. I’m a burden to my elder brother and his wife. If the master doesn’t mind feeding another mouth, I’m willing to serve at his side.”

Chen Fang said, “I’m the same!”

It was better to have more hands on the road. Wang Ying accepted all three into his service.

No one knew if they would ever return. Many were reluctant to leave.

Wang Ying walked the front courtyard in circles with his son in his arms, as if to imprint the place in the child’s memory. But Yuanbao was not yet two; even if he remembered now, he would forget it all in a few years.

So be it—out with the old, in with the new. Wang Ying took a few keepsakes and tucked them into the field for remembrance.

At first light the next morning, they rolled two carriages to the gate. Chen Bo slid the bolt carefully into place and wiped at his eyes in secret.

He had served here for a lifetime. With this departure, who knew if he would ever return…

With many traveling together, only women and children sat in the carriages; the rest walked beside the carts, slowing their pace considerably.

Just out of town, they met a troop of soldiers. They quickly pulled aside to give way.

But the soldiers halted. The leading officer reined in. “Is that Qingshui Town ahead?”

Cao Kun stepped forward to answer. “Yes—just ahead. We commoners have just come from town.”

The officer raised his whip. “I ask you—do you know a Chen household in the city, the family of Chen Jing, Prefect of Shanzhou?”

Cao Kun blinked. “Yes… yes, we do. These in the carriage are close kin of the lord prefect.”

Wang Ying and the others hadn’t expected the troop to be looking for them specifically. They hurried down from the carriages.

The leading officer, surname Jiang, greeted them. “By order of the Jizhou deputy prefect, Lord Wang, I’ve come to escort you to Jizhou for resettlement.”

Wang Ying and his mother-in-law looked at each other. They didn’t know any Lord Wang.

Jiang Cong drew a letter from his bosom and handed it over. Wang Ying unfolded it—and his nose stung at once. It was from Master Liang, earnestly asking an old friend to help locate the family, borrowing Chen Jing’s name in the text—that was why Jiang had used Fourth Uncle’s title.

“Since you are all safe, please come with us to Jizhou for settlement.”

Madam Li hesitated. Jizhou was far; in a strange place with strange faces, she feared they might not adapt.

“Ah Ying—what do you think…”

“Go to Jizhou,” Wang Ying said without hesitation.

Though famine in the county seat wasn’t yet apparent, the surrounding towns and villages had been destroyed by flood—this year’s harvest would surely fail. Grain prices would keep rising; more and more bellies would go empty. If imperial relief didn’t arrive quickly, how many would starve?

Chen Rong and Lin Sui wanted to return to the county with son and son-in-law. Wang Ying didn’t press them to stay; he instead divided the carriage’s grain to them, keeping only one sack for the road.

“You’ve given us all your grain—what will you eat in the prefectural city?” Chen Rong asked.

“Don’t worry, Third Aunt. Prefectural prices won’t be as high as the county’s. At this rate, county grain will only grow dearer. Hide your grain well when you return—don’t let eyes fall on it. If the shops still sell rice, buy what you can and store it—don’t be stingy.”

Cao Kun nodded. He trusted this cousin-in-law: anyone with the foresight and resolve to move the whole village uphill before the flood—most men could not compare. His counsel had weight.

After traveling together for a stretch, the two parties split—Chen Rong’s family drove with Lin Qiu toward the county, while Wang Ying’s group followed the soldiers toward Jizhou Prefecture.

It was some six hundred li from town to the prefectural city. Floods had destroyed several stretches of the official road; they had to detour.

Along the way, they encountered many who blocked the road to rob. At first, a show of force sent them scattering; later, even bared blades failed to frighten.

Desperation had driven them mad—willing to risk life to stop a carriage.

Jiang Cong brandished his sword and shouted them back, but some fell to their knees, wailing, “There isn’t a grain left at home! The fields are ruined—there’s no living. If we must die, then chop us down now!”

More and more people pressed in. With no other choice, Jiang had his men scatter a sack of millet by the roadside. The crowd swarmed the grain, and in that moment they spurred the carriages through.

On the thirteenth day of the eighth month, they finally reached Jizhou Prefectural City.

Before they even entered, they saw thousands camped outside the walls—refugees from the surrounding counties. The city dispensed porridge daily; some had set up makeshift shelters outside and stayed.

As their carriages approached, the crowd gathered to beg. These were less aggressive than those on the road; a stern look sent them scattering—they dared not block the carriage.

Of the three gate arches, two were shut for unknown reasons. Only one remained open, heavily guarded, inspections strict. Many carriages were stopped outside.

After three hours in line, it was finally their turn. Jiang Cong dismounted, presented a token at the gate.

The chief clerk smiled and returned it. “Ah—an imperial inspector. Many outbreaks of pestilence have occurred of late; I’m under orders to inspect all entrants strictly. Your pardon.”

Jiang put away the token and waved his men through. When it came to the Chen family’s mule cart, however, a minor official raised a hand to bar them. “Where have you come from?”

“Longquan County,” Chen Bo said.

He had not finished when several clerks stepped forward, blocking the way. “People from Longquan County are forbidden entry. Turn back at once!”