The sun hadn't risen yet, but the red glow of dawn had already cleared most of the lingering fog from the horizon.
Creek, creek... The wooden pulley squeaked as the suspension bridge was slowly lowered. A few soldiers trudged out from the city gate. They were all holding spears and short swords, but their faces were tired and worn. Anyone doing the same job day in and day out would feel the same—only someone unusually energetic would stand out.
"Market's open!" one soldier called out, then slouched against the city wall, propping himself up with his sheathed sword. He clearly planned to take a quick nap. The large character "Bravery" on his simple tunic stood out, almost comically.
With that shout, the city gate became a flurry of activity. People carrying firewood, pushing carts, and carrying bundles filed into the city, while others with manure buckets, vegetable baskets, or hoes were heading out. It was a scene of constant motion, busy and crowded.
"Get your act together!" A middle-aged officer, probably a junior rank, scolded his soldiers, who were all slumping in exhaustion. He yelled at them in frustration, but deep down, he knew it wouldn't matter. They might stand up straighter for a moment, but soon they'd slump back into their usual routines. They'd gotten used to the monotony by now.
As expected, most of the soldiers straightened up, feigning seriousness. But one soldier continued to yawn and slack off.
"Guo Ertou, did Widow Li drain you dry last night? Look at you—can't even stand straight! What's wrong, huh?" The officer mocked, then kicked one of the soldiers playfully.
The soldier, unfazed, adjusted his waist knife and rubbed his eyes, apologizing, "Captain, you're wrong! I didn't even visit Widow Li last night. She's been on her period, couldn't do anything. It's because my cat was in heat and meowing all night. I didn't sleep a wink. Please, forgive me." As he spoke, he casually grabbed a melon from an old man's basket, taking it without any hesitation. The old man huffed in annoyance but said nothing, just continuing on his way.
Before the officer could respond, a group of people in matching clothes appeared at the city gate. The leader of the group had a commanding presence.
"Isn't that Zhao the steward? Is he here for another round of porridge?" The officer recognized the uniforms and the leader immediately and rushed over to ask.
"That's right. Our master said that this year's flood has devastated a third of Chishui City. It's the perfect time for good deeds, so we're distributing porridge for half a month. Today's only the fifth day!" A servant beside Zhao the steward spoke proudly, clearly impressed by their family's charity.
"Ah, so the second young lady of the Zhao family is here in person today?" The officer smiled and asked, pointing at a sedan chair being carried behind the porridge carts, where a young maid stood beside it.
"Yes, second young lady is personally handing out porridge today!" Zhao the steward nodded, then gestured to the sedan chair.
"The second young lady herself?!! We can't let the poor folk outside mess with her! Guo Ertou, Ba'er, you two go with Zhao the steward. If anything happens, don't say I didn't warn you!" The officer barked, making sure his orders were loud and clear.
"We'll take care of it, Captain!" Zhao the steward said with a slight bow, clearly more experienced than the officer but still playing the role of a courteous subordinate.
"Of course, of course!" The officer grinned widely, happy to be receiving the respect he thought he deserved. He quickly stepped aside, directing the crowd to make way for the Zhao family's procession.
The group made its way out of the city gates, with the officer leading the way.
"Mom! The porridge is here—"
"Hurry, hurry, if we're late there won't be any left—"
"Dog Dan! Where's our bowl? Come on, let's get to the porridge before it's all gone!"
A group of ragged, hungry people, seeing the porridge carts, suddenly sprang to life. They called to each other and rushed forward, but as they got closer to the carts, they instinctively formed a line in neat rows. Of course, within the rows, there was still plenty of jostling over who got to stand where.
Zhao the steward looked on with satisfaction. "Seems like these people know the rules. Once they're lined up properly, we'll start serving."
"Third Steward, you really know how to handle things. All thanks to your efforts the other day. If it weren't for you cracking down on them, these villagers would..." A servant eagerly praised Zhao the steward, but before he could finish, Zhao the steward had already walked away, clearly tired of the flattery. The servant, still smiling awkwardly, rolled his eyes and quietly grumbled to himself.
"Young lady, everything's ready!" Zhao the steward said as he bowed to the sedan chair.
"Then let's begin!" A sweet, melodious voice called out from the sedan, so pleasant it almost made people lose focus.
A slender woman, dressed in a white satin gown, stepped out of the sedan with the help of a young maid. She wore a veil that concealed her face.
"Big Brother, Big Brother—porridge is ready!" A ten-year-old girl, standing by the river near the city walls, pushed a young man lying on a straw mat.
The young man, in his late teens or early twenties, had a medium build, not particularly muscular but clearly strong from the way his worn shirt revealed some hardened muscle. He wasn't someone you'd want to mess with.
"Quit pushing! What's the rush?" The young man grumbled, still half-asleep. He swatted the girl's hand away and rolled over, revealing his face.
His features were plain, not tanned from labor but not pale either. A few faint scars marked his face, probably from childhood, and a couple of days-old stubble scattered across his chin. One of his eyes was bruised, likely from a recent fight.
The girl pouted in mild frustration but didn't push him further. She glanced longingly at the porridge cart, then at the young man lying on the mat. With a sigh, she slipped on her mud-streaked shoes and ran toward the cart.