Chapter 45 They won't even come to see if I'm alive or dead?
The first light of dawn.
The county magistrate personally led his soldiers up the mountain for the rescue, and his legs were trembling from exhaustion.
Looking up, I saw that half of the mountain gate had been burned down, and the remaining half of the earthen yellow wall had been blackened by the fire. Under the embers, a few wisps of smoke struggled to rise and were then blown away by the wind.
A desolate scene.
The county magistrate's heart trembled, and he mustered his strength to step forward.
Upon entering the mountain gate, what made his legs weak with fear was the sight of corpses lying haphazardly on the ground, stained with blood. He didn't know how many people had died; there were monks, ragged refugees, and guards dressed as servants.
The air was filled with a strong, nauseating smell of blood.
Several monkeys, oblivious to the danger, were searching for something among the scattered corpses; some monkeys were gnawing on something, and upon closer inspection, it turned out to be human flesh that had been roasted over a fire!
"Ugh—" The county magistrate vomited on the spot and waved for people to chase away the monkeys.
Officials stepped forward to drive them away, but the monkeys scurried up to the treetops, curiously watching the tragic scene unfold.
"My lord—" a minor official ran over, "There are no survivors here, I don't know if anyone else is still alive."
Everyone's face was somber.
The county magistrate's face was extremely grim.
The death of a few hundred ordinary people is not a big deal, but if a few wives and daughters of officials die, who knows what kind of uproar it will cause, and he will lose his official position!
"Are they all... all here?" The county magistrate was stunned for a moment, staring blankly at the corpses on the ground, until someone reminded him that the backyard was still unchecked.
The county magistrate snapped out of his daze, his loud voice trembling, and slapped the clerk leading the group, yelling, "Go and investigate!"
"Yes, sir!" The clerk covered his face, waved his hand, and led his men to the backyard.
The county magistrate quickly followed.
Passing through the empty archway, he heard weeping coming from inside, and the county magistrate's heart seemed to come alive again.
Along the way, he had thought about how to explain himself in order to save his own life; the sound of crying meant that there were still people alive.
The county magistrate pushed aside those blocking his way and ran inside first.
Compared to the tragic state of the main hall, the back courtyard was slightly better; although there were still dead people, there weren't many.
Many of the injured nurses, those who were still able to breathe, have been moved here.
The soldiers rushed forward to help, while the county magistrate checked on the wives and daughters of the officials, the number of casualties, and then on the wealthy merchants.
Inside the side room, some women were bandaging the wounds of the injured, having found all the usable medicines in the temple.
The county magistrate looked around and found that only a few wives and maids were injured, and not seriously. He adjusted his official hat and thought to himself that he had saved his job.
Just as I was feeling relieved, I suddenly thought, what about those refugees?
Did the refugees loot and leave?
But with so many women, why didn't they take any of them with them?
No woman was insulted; no one was taken hostage.
Thinking of this, the county magistrate ordered someone to inquire again to see if anyone had been kidnapped.
He was puzzled. Seeing that the guards were either dead or injured, and those nobles didn't seem like they could fight, how come the refugees hadn't killed them after fighting all this way?
This perfectly reflects the mindset under riots.
The clerk returned and reported, "Sir, no one was kidnapped. Those bandits only stole valuables. It seems they retreated beforehand because they were afraid the government troops would come up the mountain to surround and suppress them."
The county magistrate snorted heavily, gripped his belt, and cursed, "A rabble."
Clearly, he believed that those bandits were just a bunch of farmers who had no experience in fighting or combat. They relied on sheer numbers to rush in and plunder, grabbing what they could and running away. They also lacked long-term vision, were afraid of being held accountable, and only wanted money.
Yao Qingling applied medicine to the injured censor's wife, glancing at the county magistrate out of the corner of her eye with a very cautious expression.
— Just as the bandit raised his knife to strike her, the Imperial Censor's wife shouted that she was the daughter of the late Marquis of Loyalty and Bravery, Yao Rui. The man hesitated for a moment, and Tao Ye rushed forward and tightly hugged the man's arm, thus saving Yao Qingling's life.
The late Marquis of Loyalty and Valor, Yao Rui, was not particularly famous compared to other renowned generals. Moreover, he had been dead for many years and was hardly remembered. What truly made him famous was his wife, who had died for him.
The people may not remember which soldier died on the battlefield, but they respect their righteous act of defending their country.
At the critical moment, the one who saved Qingling's life was neither Zhan Xingzhuo nor herself, but her father who had passed away ten years ago.
Yao Qingling survived, persuaded the refugees, and gave all the nobles in the backyard a chance to live.
Yao Qingling made a deal with the bandits. Afterward, the bandits took the valuables and retreated, while she, Taoye, the Imperial Censor's wife, and others gathered the wounded in the backyard for treatment.
They had been busy all night and had just sat down to rest when the county magistrate arrived late with his soldiers.
Even at this point, Qingling still couldn't spot Zhan Xingzhuo in the crowd.
In his eyes, she really wasn't important at all.
At this moment, Yao Qingling hated Zhan Xingzhuo, but sadness outweighed hatred.
No matter what, she was his wife of three years. Even if he couldn't come to save her, wouldn't he at least come to see her for what was going to happen to him?
Yao Qingling looked at the relatives of the women who had followed the officials up the mountain. They hurriedly brought their guards to rescue the women. The relatives hugged each other and cried as soon as they saw each other, thankful that they had survived this calamity.
As dawn broke, more and more people came up the mountain.
After the main hall was cleared out, some people knelt down in front of the Buddha statue to express their gratitude, and then were helped down the mountain by their relatives.
The Imperial Censor Cao stumbled to the lady's side. Seeing that she was still alive, tears streamed down his face. His legs went weak, and he knelt on the ground, thanking God for his protection. He kowtowed several times to the rising sun in the east.
The censor's wife, her eyes red, then stood up and punched him lightly: "You should thank God, and you should also thank the young mistress."
Imperial Censor Cao looked at Yao Qingling blankly. Should he thank her?
But when the lady spoke, he bowed deeply in gratitude: "Thank you, young mistress, for saving my life."
Yao Qingling quickly stepped forward and took the arm of Imperial Censor Cao: "You don't need to thank me. I should thank your wife. Her shout scared away the refugees and saved my life."
Then, Imperial Censor Cao looked at his wife with even more bewilderment.
He knew his wife was strong and brave. But would a single shout scare away the refugees?
Qingling and the Imperial Censor's wife exchanged a glance, and Qingling winked at her, their understanding unspoken.
The censor's wife said, "Don't thank me like that. I'm fine, and everyone else is fine too."
She glanced behind the censor, as if looking for someone, then looked at Yao Qingling with a mixture of sympathy and anger.
Her house was next to the Zhan family's new residence. Her husband, Old Cao, a skinny old man, could go up the mountain. Zhan Xingzhuo was young, strong, and healthy. Why wasn't he in a hurry to go up the mountain to take a look?
Yesterday, he and Yao Qingling were holding hands and looking very affectionate as they came up the mountain, but they disappeared last night.
The Imperial Censor's wife had been too embarrassed to ask Qingling why Zhan Xingzhuo had gone down the mountain in the rain that evening.
At this moment, she couldn't hold back any longer and said, "Such a big thing has happened, everyone in the capital with ears should have heard about it by now. Old Cao, when you came, didn't you invite the neighbors next door?"
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