Their large, unusual caravan drew the attention of more than just the adults in the small villages they passed. Even small children, clad only in their loincloths, curiously chased after their donkey carts.
Yu'er and Qi Ren, seeing children their own age running alongside the donkey carts, waved and called out to them with smiles.
"Hey, my name is Fu Xinyu. What's your name, little brother?"
"I'm Niudan," replied the child running at the front, showing no shyness and grinning.
"Me too, me too! I'm Erluizi," said another child, resembling Niudan, wiping his nose as he revealed his name.
"Niudan, Erluizi, your names are so imposing!" Yu'er found their names, incorporating 'ox' and 'donkey', quite fitting. Their grandfather often said that farming relied on oxen and donkeys, making them precious to farmers.
"Really?" Erluizi was often teased by his friends about his name.
Today, hearing a child praise his name as imposing, his mood instantly brightened, and a rare hint of pride appeared on his small face.
Fu Xinci: She didn't understand the world of children, but her brother's way of complimenting people was worth learning. She should try to emulate him.
Because Yu'er had struck up a conversation, the children chased the donkey carts with even more vigor. Then, a woman's voice called out from behind, "You brats, where are you running off to again? Hurry home and eat, or you'll see how I'll deal with you."
Upon hearing the word "eat," the children stopped almost simultaneously, no longer chasing the donkey carts.
In this era, few families were well-off, and many ate only two meals a day. These children were no exception, their families having two meals daily. If they didn't go home to eat now, they would go hungry.
Watching the children sprint back, clearly afraid of missing out on food, the group finally realized their own stomachs were rumbling.
In a good mood, Jiang Tou'er became understanding. "Everyone, let's pick up the pace. When we reach the next village, we'll set up camp and cook."
"Right!" Wu Laoda cracked his whip, urging the mule cart forward. Soon, the Meng clan members were left behind.
"Hey, Wu Laoda, slow down," Jiang Tou'er called out as Wu Laoda sped ahead, raising a cloud of dust.
"Alright. Whatever you say, I'll do. You say run, we run. You say stop, we stop. See how obedient we are?"
Jiang Tou'er: He was a grown man, but quite cheeky. However, he didn't voice this, deciding it was better to prolong his good mood.
Thus, the group, bathed in the twilight glow, soon arrived at the village the burly man had mentioned.
At this hour, some villagers in Xiaogang Village had finished their evening meal and were sitting outside their homes, chatting as dusk settled.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted from the head of the village, so loud that even the village chief, living in the center, heard it.
"I'll go see," the elder, past fifty, told his family, who were still mid-meal.
"Old man, you haven't finished eating."
"I'll eat later," the elder replied, turning to leave.
"Father, I'll go with you," three strong young men said in unison.
"Alright," the elder responded, without turning back, continuing his walk.
"Grandpa, we'll go with you too," an eleven or twelve-year-old boy, followed by his eight or nine-year-old brother, chased after them.
Seeing his two eldest grandsons following, the old man's eyes crinkled with amusement. He naturally slowed his pace, waiting for his grandsons to catch up.
The old woman who had spoken earlier felt slightly better when her three sons and two eldest grandsons had all gone.
Her three daughters-in-law, fearing their mother-in-law's worry, spoke to comfort her.
"Mother, don't worry. Father and the eldest brothers will be back soon," the eldest daughter-in-law said, choosing words her mother-in-law would appreciate.
"Yes, it's surely nothing serious. Mother, please don't worry," the second daughter-in-law was also good with words, saying what her mother-in-law wanted to hear.
"Yes," the third daughter-in-law, who had recently married into the family, was still shy, her voice quieter than her sisters-in-law.
As the women were talking, the courtyard gate was pushed open from the outside. The eight or nine-year-old boy who had gone out earlier came running back, his footsteps quick.
"Grandma, Grandpa sent me to tell you it's nothing serious. It's officials escorting some prisoners to Liaodong. They're passing through our village, and it's too late, so they want to make do for the night under the big willow tree at the village entrance."
"Oh," the old woman's heart settled upon hearing her grandson's message, and her expression improved considerably.
...
Under the big willow tree at the village entrance, Jiang Tou'er was speaking with the village chief of Xiaogang Village. Two iron pots had already been set up nearby.
Fang Shi, along with Fu Xinci and Meng Xiaohe, were helping Wu Laoda and the others cook. Fu Yu took the flour sacks off the donkey cart, and even without weighing them, it was clear there wasn't much left.
"Father, shall I go buy some from the village?"
"Let's not. We shouldn't trouble them. We can buy some when we pass a market tomorrow."
"Okay." As they entered the village, Fu Yu had noticed the unharvested crops along the roadside. At this time of year, most farmers had no stored grain.
After helping Wu Laoda and the others prepare dinner, Fang Shi used their pots to pour out the remaining cornmeal from the sacks, making a thin gruel.
Fu Yu served a bowl first, holding it with both hands and presenting it to Meng Qingping. "Father, we only have this much cornmeal left. We'll have to make do with this tonight."
"Fine, as long as there's something to eat. Quickly go serve the children; they're all hungry too."
"Yes."
Fu Yu responded and then helped Fang Shi ladle out the cornmeal gruel for the children. Meng Qishan and his sister refused, seeing that the grain brought by their cousins was almost gone.
When Qi He had served them the gruel earlier, they had been given a generous ladleful each, thanks to his presence. Compared to before, it felt like a dream.
Fu Xinci, seeing them politely decline, secretly thought that when she helped Fang Shi cook the gruel, she had wanted to add more cornmeal to the pot. But with so many eyes watching, she hadn't had the chance.
The feeling of having plenty to eat yet watching her loved ones go hungry was like a cat scratching her heart.
Meng Qingping, seeing his granddaughter's unhappy expression, assumed she disliked the gruel. In a voice only he and his granddaughter could hear, he reminded her, "If Ci'er doesn't like the gruel, just eat a little... and then..."