The instant Cheng Xu finished giving the order, Zheng Daniu's face collapsed into a picture of utter misery, as if the sky itself had fallen on his head.
"What kind of cruel command is this?" he wailed, clutching his chest. "Giving away our rations and going hungry for a whole day? That's torture! Absolute torture! I don't want to starve for a day!"
Zao Ying reached out and tugged his sleeve, her voice dry. "Daniu, you don't have any rations left anyway. You already ate all of mine too. Even if we didn't give the food to the common folk, you'd still be starving for a day."
Zheng Daniu froze.
The truth struck him like a hammer. His eyes went blank, and with a dull thump, he collapsed straight onto the ground, sprawled flat, looking as though all will to live had left his body.
Cheng Xu did not spare him a second glance. Once the order was issued, no one hesitated. The soldiers calmly pulled out the last bits of military rations they had kept hidden in their packs, some only a handful of grain, others a hard biscuit or two, and piled everything together before handing it over to representatives of the common folk.
There was no shouting, no grand speeches, just quiet, decisive action.
Watching this scene, Ma Xianglin felt a heaviness settle in his chest. When it comes to truly cherishing the people, he thought, I am still far behind them.
He clenched his teeth, then turned to Zhang Fengyi beside him. "Should we give ours as well?"
Zhang Fengyi lowered her voice. "Will there really be food when we reach the Yellow River?"
Ma Xianglin hesitated briefly, then answered honestly. "Judging by how confident they are, there should be. Even so, I cannot understand how they have the ability to transport supplies this far up the Yellow River."
Zhang Fengyi fell silent, then murmured, "If Mother were here, she would certainly help the common folk too, wouldn't she?"
Ma Xianglin nodded without hesitation. "Without a doubt."
"Then let's give it," Zhang Fengyi said firmly. "It's better than standing by and watching people starve to death."
And so, the Sichuan White Pole Soldiers also brought out their remaining grain. Not a single man held anything back. All of it was handed over and entrusted to the representatives of the common folk, to be distributed among themselves.
Only after everything had been given away did Cheng Xu step forward again. "Good people," he said, raising his voice so all could hear, "Daning County is no longer a safe place. There is no food left, and there are no city walls to protect you. Bandits could return at any time. If that happens, you will once again be in grave danger. Why not come with us? We will take you to a place where you can live in safety."
How could the common folk possibly refuse?
They had just crawled back from the edge of death, and now, standing before them, was an army that treated them like its own kin. Almost without thinking, they all nodded, voices overlapping as they agreed.
Thus, soldiers and civilians merged into a single, vast procession. Nearly ten thousand people abandoned Daning County and began marching westward toward the Yellow River.
The rain continued to fall, cold and relentless, soaking clothes and chilling bones. Whether it was the weather or the lingering fear in their hearts, no one could quite tell.
Forty li was an exhausting distance for people who had been starving for days. Fortunately, the military rations they had just eaten gave them a little strength, just enough to keep them moving, though every step felt heavy.
They struggled westward along the Xinshui River, passing village after village that had been burned out by bandits, and long stretches of land where not a single living soul could be seen.
Winter winds cut through them, rain plastered hair to faces, and hunger gnawed deeper with every step. By the time evening approached, the small meal they had eaten at midday was long gone. Common folk, White Pole Soldiers, and Gao Family Village militia alike were cold, exhausted, and ravenous, many barely able to keep their feet.
"Almost there!" Cheng Xu shouted, forcing strength into his voice. "The Yellow River is just ahead. Two more li, and we're there!"
"Food… at the Yellow River?" The common folk whispered among themselves, half hopeful, half afraid to believe.
Even Ma Xianglin found it hard to accept, yet at this point there was no turning back. "Everyone, hold on a little longer," he urged. "Just two more li!"
"Someone collapsed here!"
"Get him onto a horse!" Zao Ying ordered at once. One of her cavalrymen dismounted without hesitation, helped the fallen person onto his horse, and began leading the animal on foot.
"Another one's down!"
"Put him on a horse!" Another cavalryman dismounted and started walking.
Step by step, dragging themselves forward, they finally reached the Yellow River.
At the place where the Xinshui River met the great Yellow River, the exhausted common folk could go no farther. They sank down along the riverbank, breathing hard, limbs trembling.
Ma Xianglin walked to the water's edge and stopped, staring at the broad, muddy current. "Here?" he asked quietly. "There will be grain here?"
Gao Chuwu grinned. "Very soon, the boats will arrive."
Ma Xianglin frowned, puzzled.
Gao Chuwu lifted his hand and pointed south along the river channel. "Look."
Ma Xianglin followed his gesture, and what he saw made his eyes widen in shock.
Three large cargo ships were moving upstream, heading straight toward them.
The Yellow River's current was fierce, notoriously difficult to navigate, yet these ships had no sails and no visible oars. Even so, they advanced steadily against the flow, moving with surprising speed and ease.
They were simple, flat-decked cargo vessels. Their decks were piled high, the goods stacked like small hills and covered with oilcloth. Though the contents were hidden, there was no mistaking their purpose.
Ma Xianglin could not contain his excitement. "These three ships… are they all carrying grain?"
"Not all," Gao Chuwu said with a chuckle. "Two carry grain. The third holds military supplies. Gunpowder, bullets, tents, beans for the warhorses, and the like."
Ma Xianglin stared at him, utterly stunned. "You have been with us this entire time. No messenger has come to report anything. How could you know exactly when and where these ships would arrive? And how did they know we would reach this stretch of the river at this precise moment?"
Gao Chuwu only laughed, saying nothing, leaving the question hanging in the air.
Dao Xuan Tianzun had already instructed him. It was not yet time to explain such matters to Ma Xianglin.
The three ships slowly drew alongside the bank. From one of them, a very young soldier leaped lightly onto shore. He looked no more than seventeen or eighteen years old. He wore no armor, only a flintlock rifle slung across his back. His skin was fair, and his features carried a scholarly refinement.
At a glance, he looked like someone who belonged in a study, not on a battlefield.
Cheng Xu laughed. "Well now, Wang Tang. Already coming out on active duty?"
Wang Tang smiled calmly. "The village is short on manpower. It's time for the younger generation to gain experience. Besides, Dao Xuan Tianzun said some of these supplies must be handed over to the Sichuan White Pole Soldiers, and everything has to be recorded clearly. Army ledgers can't be scribbled carelessly anymore. Illiterates can't manage this kind of work, so here I am."
This Wang Tang was the adopted son of Principal Wang from the Gao Family Village school, and one of the outstanding figures among the village's second generation.
He had joined the militia at a young age. Thanks to his learning, far beyond that of ordinary soldiers, he worked mainly in logistics. Though he had never seen true combat, his status was not low, equivalent to that of a commander.
Holding a notebook in his left hand and a pen in his right, Wang Tang waved toward the crew. "Unload the cargo."
The sailors answered in unison and immediately began moving supplies off the ships.
Wang Tang stood to the side, calmly recording each item. "One basket. Two baskets. Three baskets…"
When the crew paused briefly, he wrote neatly, then added a final line with a flourish of his pen. "Two hundred baskets of flour and fifty baskets of preserved meat are transferred to the frontline troops, to be received by He Jiu."
He tore off the page and handed it to Cheng Xu. "Instructor He, please sign here to confirm receipt of two hundred baskets of flour and fifty baskets of preserved meat. Only then can I report it properly to the village treasury."