The thin man, seemingly oblivious to what was being said, wiped away his tears and choked out:

"My father... has bad legs and can't even run, sir... you should..."

"I understand. Even if he really can't go to the battlefield, we won't let him go. He'd just be a burden." The older soldier patted him on the shoulder, offering a token word of comfort.

Meanwhile, other groups were arriving one after another, each consisting of soldiers leading a group of ordinary people of varying ages. It was more like conscription than a formal recruitment, and the people following behind all looked rather dejected.

"What's your name?" the older soldier glanced at the thin man and asked casually.

"Hu...Hu San." The skinny man wiped his nose, but out of the corner of his eye he glanced at the other teams. Seeing that there were still many people like him who had "accepted the conscription", his originally heavy mood seemed to lighten a bit.

"Go, go with them!"

An older soldier grabbed him and shoved him into a line.

"But I don't know anything, what can I do?" Hu San looked at him dejectedly.

"Once you're in the army, someone will teach you what to do."

The soldier gave a perfunctory reply, then ignored him and left with the rest of the men; his mission was not yet complete.

Helpless, Hu San could only resign himself to his fate and follow the others. For some reason, once he was in the group, his fear subsided somewhat. Perhaps the large number of people offered him some comfort.

As evening approached, the sky darkened considerably. Although there was no howling wind, the oppressive gloom made it hard to breathe.

Hu San lowered his head and followed the group of people slowly forward, his mind wandering between his father with mobility issues and his son who was always causing trouble.

As for his wife, she died the year before last.

It was a summer evening when Hu Sanming saw her squatting under the old willow tree in front of the door, eating her meal and chatting with the old women from the neighborhood.

Hu San was just about to go back inside to get more rice when he heard a loud crash as he turned around.

When he turned around, he saw that the old rooster bowl was broken on the ground, with the unfinished porridge spilled everywhere, and his wife was lying on the ground motionless.

Even after the burial, Hu San still couldn't figure out how his wife had died. It wasn't until another evening the following month, when the summer heat was at its peak, that he suddenly realized it might have been because it was too hot that day.

After vaguely arriving at an uncertain answer, Hu San began plowing the land again that day, and after finishing, he would always sprinkle some well water on the old ox that had been his companion for twelve years.

"The land has just been turned over, and the mid-season rice hasn't been planted yet..." At this moment, Hu San moved his lips and muttered to himself, his thoughts already shifting from his family to the fields.

His brows furrowed deeper and deeper, and the heavy emotions that had dissipated earlier returned, making him feel even more uncomfortable.

The weather has been very good since the beginning of spring this year. Six-tenths of the early rice fields were planted in March, and there are still some idle fields that haven't been planted yet. Just the day before yesterday, I took my old ox to turn the soil and irrigate it. The rice seedlings have already sprouted and are just waiting to be planted.

Hu San felt increasingly uncomfortable and uneasy. The half-acre of rice seedlings that hadn't been planted felt like a needle piercing his heart.

At this moment, the slight "comfort" of being in the crowd finally vanished.

Before they knew it, they were almost at the military camp near the city gate. Hu San couldn't help but look up and saw a large group of people gathered in one direction. Most of them were ordinary people, and they were making a lot of noise and arguing.

Hu San reached out and tugged at the hem of the man in front of him, unable to resist asking in a low voice:

"Have you planted rice in your yard yet?"

The man in front was a man in his forties. He wasn't wearing a coarse cloth shirt. Although it wasn't fancy clothing, it was still noticeably more refined than Hu San's. Upon hearing this, he turned his head and glanced at the short, thin man with a bitter expression behind him.

"Brother, we're about to go to the battlefield, and you're asking me this? You... you really have a lot of free time." The man's expression was somewhat stern, and also somewhat helpless.

"I...I was just asking, my family hasn't planted any yet." Hu San looked at the tall man, then lowered his head, only glancing at the straw sandals on his feet.

"well."

The man looked at the honest and simple-minded Hu San and sighed.

“At this point, whether we plant or not is no longer important.” He turned his head away and said no more.

Hu San became increasingly frustrated; he had finally figured it out.

The man in front of you is definitely not a farmer. He is wearing black cloth boots with white soles, and his face is very pale. He doesn't look like a farmer at all.

As Hu San was thinking, he heard the commotion in the distance grow louder, and the procession moving forward seemed to slow down considerably.

So he turned around and looked at the person behind him. With just one glance, he knew he had found someone to ask.

"Have you planted rice at home?" he asked in a low voice, turning to the man wearing a straw hat behind him.

"I'm done for." The man behind him replied in a muffled voice without even looking up.

Hu San's face immediately fell, and he hurriedly asked, "Why did you plant them so early?"

The man behind him then raised his head, his equally sallow face full of dejection: "There's been a war going on lately, and everyone says the court is finished and the rebels will come in sooner or later, so I just wanted to die early."

"They...wouldn't burn the fields."

Hu San was completely dazed, a dizzying sensation swept over him, and he was as anxious as a grasshopper on a hot pan.

"What should we do? We haven't planted rice seedlings yet!"

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