"Sigh, the bark has all been stripped off the trees, how are we going to survive now!"
Under the scorching sun, an old man wearing shorts and a jacket carried a bunch of wild vegetables with roots still covered in mud, looking distressed and sighing.
He looked up and saw that all the trees in his sight, whether as thin as hemp stalks or as thick as ancient trees that would take several people to encircle, had had their bark forcibly stripped off, and the leaves on their crowns had been completely plucked, leaving them bare and quite unsightly.
Walking across the dry field ridges, his gaze swept over the hardened, cracked fields, and the old man's eyes grew increasingly worried. Soon, a desolate and dilapidated village came into view, and he could vaguely see some withered figures.
The old man glanced at the wild vegetables in his hand, which looked no different from weeds and emitted a strong grassy smell. His expression tightened, as if he were hiding a treasure. He hugged the bundle of wild vegetables to his chest, covered it with his clothes, and then quickly crossed the road to a dilapidated mud house. He pushed open the fence gate and entered the yard.
As soon as he entered the courtyard, the old man saw his eldest son, who looked pale and sickly, struggling to pull a millstone with a hemp rope. What he was grinding was not grain, but pieces of dry tree bark.
They could only eat the bark after it had been ground into powder, because their teeth weren't as strong as those of livestock.
"Father, you're back!"
The son, who was grinding bark, saw his father return and his eyes lit up. He looked at his father expectantly. Only he could do the hard work of grinding bark. As for his father, he could only go out and see if he could find something to eat.
"The tree bark has all been stripped off; I only picked some wild vegetables to bring back."
With a bitter expression, the old man pulled out a bunch of crumpled wild vegetables from his pocket. He had pulled these vegetables out of the ground along with him, not wanting to waste a single bit.
"As long as it's edible!"
The thin man swallowed hard, but still managed a slight smile.
"We don't have much food left at home. Even if we mix it with tree bark, it won't last long!"
At this point, the old man looked up resentfully at the sky above, which was completely cloudless.
"This damned God, He's making life unbearable!"
As farmers struggling at the bottom of society, when the harvest was bad in previous years, they would pull up some tree bark, dig up some wild vegetables, and scrape together their meager food to get by.
But this year is different. At the beginning of the year, only a few ice crystals fell from the sky, and after spring arrived, not a single rain fell.
This is no longer just a poor harvest, but a complete lack of harvest. There's not a single grain to harvest, and now we're just struggling to survive on the coarse grains we've saved up from previous years.
Even if they are farmers who toil in the fields from dawn till dusk, how much grain can they possibly save up? After all, a large portion of the grain they grow has to be handed over to the state.
This year, the country is suffering from a severe drought. Although the government has posted notices to reduce or exempt taxes, no matter how much the taxes are reduced, the grain that is due still has to be paid. Not a single grain of rice can escape payment, which makes the already difficult days even more unbearable.
"Dad, Zhang the Cripple at the village entrance ate himself to death last night!"
The man pulling the millstone looked at his cursing father and said weakly.
"I'm so full!"
The old man, his face contorted with anger and his eyes filled with resentment, fell silent upon hearing the news, then shook his head and sighed.
"It's good that he died from overeating; at least he died a gluttonous death!"
That being said, the old man also knew that the stomach of the crippled Zhang who died from overeating was not filled with grain at all, not even tree bark.
"Father, do you think we can survive this year of famine?"
The man pulling the millstone stopped and asked in a low voice, "The bark in the millstone has been ground to a yellowish-brown powder. Although it's hard to swallow, it can at least fill your stomach when mixed with coarse grains, so you won't be so full that you can't even defecate."
"Don't say such discouraging things, we'll definitely get through this!"
The old man spoke with a strong and resonant tone, but his expression lacked the confidence his words conveyed. How long could they survive on the grain stored from previous years? This year's spring planting had been ruined; even if it rained, they wouldn't be able to grow anything.
"father!"
The man began collecting tree bark powder, and also took the wild vegetable bundles his father had gathered from outside. The old man, however, simply sat down on the stone stool and remained motionless.
"Um."
"I heard that someone in the next county has started a rebellion. The rebels have stormed into the homes of the wealthy and landlords, and they're eating rice and steamed buns every day!"
"Eating white face masks every day?"
Upon hearing this, the old man squatting on the stone bench sneered disdainfully.
"Which bastard is lying to you? That Zhou Bapi next door in our village has hundreds of acres of farmland, he's rich enough, but even he only eats white flour once every three days. A bunch of rebels, eating white flour every day, where do they get so much white flour to waste!"
"Even if it's not a white face mask, having food to eat is good enough. It's better than us gnawing on tree bark and eating grass roots!"
The man retorted, his neck stiff.
"What are you trying to do, you idiot? Trying to rebel with others? That's a death sentence!"
"I don't want to rebel, I just want to fill my stomach. Those corrupt officials can't even grow crops in the fields, yet they still want us to pay taxes. How are we supposed to pay? With our lives? Since they won't let us live, then they shouldn't live either. We all have two shoulders and one head, so who's afraid of who?"
At this point, even the seemingly honest and kind-hearted man revealed a fierce look on his face.
"What nonsense are you spouting? Look at yourself, you're skin and bones, and you're trying to rebel like others? You couldn't even lift a knife!"
"I'm just hungry. If you feed me, I'll be as strong as an ox!"
"Hiss~"
The old man chuckled and didn't bother to say anything more. Even with his old bones full, he could carry a hundred pounds of firewood for three miles, but where would he get food to fill his stomach now?
The father and son fell silent. At that moment, as the man busied himself, wisps of smoke rose from the short, thick chimney. This ordinary, everyday smoke now attracted countless hungry eyes.
"Uncle, you can still cook at your house?"
A somewhat sleazy-looking figure approached the fence, peering cautiously at the house beneath the chimney billowing smoke. He licked his dry, chapped lips, his eyes filled with a longing for food.
"Just some grass roots and tree bark!"
Looking at the notorious thug outside the fence, the old man's eyes were filled with vigilance. Meanwhile, the man who had been busy in the kitchen heard the commotion and came out, brandishing a wood-chopping knife with a menacing aura.
"Uncle, I can smell the aroma of rice even from outside the door. I know your family lives frugally, and you must have more surplus grain than others. I don't ask for anything else, I just beg you to give me some food."
"Er Liuzi, get the hell out of here! Go beg for food somewhere else, my family is almost starving!"
The man carrying the machete looked at the humble villagers, his words devoid of any politeness. His elderly mother and wife, lying in bed, were both waiting for that meal; if it was given to others, what would his family eat?
"Uncle, I haven't eaten for three days. Please give me a bite to eat, okay? If you really can't, I'll kowtow to you!"
As he spoke, the figure outside the fence knelt down, followed by a clean and crisp thud.
"Erzhuzi, it's not that your uncle is stingy, it's just that there's not much food left in the house. You know how bad the year is. Even if we're frugal, how much can we save?"
The old man sighed, then his tone shifted again.
"But your uncle also dug up a piece of Guanyin clay earlier. If you're really starving, take that piece of clay. It'll fill your stomach even if you eat a little less, and nothing bad will happen!"
"Uncle, are you really that heartless? I've begged you like this, and you won't even give me a single bite to eat?"
The First Clan
"Erliuzi, if you don't get out of here, this woodcutter's knife in my hand won't discriminate!"
Seeing the villagers lingering and unwilling to leave, the man suddenly cursed viciously. Driven by hunger, he had even entertained thoughts of rebellion; how could he possibly pity a mere village scoundrel?
"..."
Having pleaded in vain, Erzhuzi, who had even kowtowed outside the fence just to beg for a bite to eat, remained silent, glanced longingly at the smoke that had already drifted away in the wind, and turned to leave without uttering a single harsh word.
"They're finally gone!"
Seeing the ruffians retreat, the old man and the young man breathed a sigh of relief. They then tidied up and began preparing for dinner. Although they ate mostly grass roots and tree bark, at least they got some decent food.
The family of four had just gathered around the dinner table when they heard a commotion outside.
"I saw it with my own eyes! Uncle Zhao came back from outside carrying a bunch of fragrant steamed buns!"
"Erzhuzi, are you out of your mind from hunger? Where are you going to find white face masks now?"
"Who knows? I just saw Uncle Zhao carrying a bag of some kind of stuff and hurrying back home when I was at the village entrance!"
When the old man and the young man came out of the house, they saw that the few able-bodied men in the village were gathered outside their fence, their eyes filled with the familiar fervor as they looked at their house.
"What nonsense are you spouting?"
The old man asked with a solemn expression.
"Uncle, Erzhuzi said you picked up a bag of white face masks outside, so we came over to take a look!"
"A villager said with a smile."
"Don't listen to his nonsense! When has he ever said a single correct word? If there really was a white face mask, would I let him see it? That bastard!"
The old man grumbled and cursed, but his eyes were more solemn than ever before.
"Uncle, you can say whatever you want to me, but whether you found the white mask or not isn't up to you. We have to go in and take a look; that's the real deal!"
"Yes, that's right. We don't believe you if you say there isn't one. We have to go in and take a look!"
The eyes of the young and strong men in the village who had gathered together gradually became somewhat terrifying.
"Let's see who dares to come in, you bunch of sons of bitches! Even if my dad did find the white mask, what business is it of yours?"
The man came out again carrying a machete, but by this time, a single machete was no longer enough to intimidate the crowd.
"See? I told you they had white flour buns!"
Erzhuzi was overjoyed and shouted, and chaos immediately ensued. The fence, which was only half a person high, was pushed down, and the old man and the young man who tried to stop it were quickly knocked to the ground. The stench of blood spread in the dry air.
No one believed that Uncle Zhao had actually picked up a bag of white face masks outside. Everyone knew it was nonsense, but they needed an excuse, even if it seemed illogical.
There was definitely no white flour buns available. Even in good years, landlords and rich people couldn't afford to eat them every day, let alone poor, destitute people like this.
But it doesn't matter if there are no white flour buns, as long as there is something to fill your stomach.
"I don't have any white face masks at home, where am I supposed to find some...?"
The old man, covered in blood, his face bruised, and with footprints on his body, was crying out. Beside him, his thin child lay on the ground, his chest rising and falling slightly.
Whether there were white flour buns or not was not important. What mattered was that when the villagers came in, they saw the food in the pot. Even if it was very meager, it was still food.
A chaotic looting ensued, spilling soup and water everywhere. The ugliness of human nature was on full display at that moment. Without the constraints of morality, the darkness of humanity was laid bare.
A villager who had just seemed quite honest turned his gaze to the village woman with a sallow complexion; she was the wife of the man who had used a woodcutter.
"You beasts, stop!"
Watching the group of able-bodied men from the village devour his family's stored grain and begin tearing at his daughter-in-law's clothes, the old man roared in despair. He was all too familiar with the faces of these people, but at this moment, those faces with their sinister smiles were so terrifying in his eyes, like demons!
"Stop!"
Just as this human tragedy unfolded, a celestial being happened to be traveling by. His gaze fell upon all the ugliness in the world. The next moment, sword energy as sharp as a cow's hair fell from the sky, annihilating all the evil spirits disguised as humans.
"this……"
Amidst low sobs and painful wails, the old man, whose entire body ached, shakily stood up. Looking at the villain who had broken into his home and was now dead, he was at a loss for words.
Rumble—
Just then, a bolt of lightning ripped through the sky, and the thunderous roar that echoed across the heavens and earth was so awe-inspiring that it made one's heart skip a beat.
The old man stared blankly at the sky, which was turning gloomy at a visible speed, and the thunder and lightning darting through the dark clouds. He knelt down on the ground, laughing and crying at the same time, and banged his head heavily on the dirt.
"God help me!"
Above the clouds, the immortal who was using his magic to summon wind and rain had a pale face. He looked down at the land suffering from severe drought, his eyes showing pity but even more helplessness.
"I am not strong enough and need to seek some external help. I remember there is a senior sister in the sect who raises a Dang Kang. I wonder if we can borrow it."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com