An uproar from the crowd was inevitable.
They had been refugees for days, passing through countless counties and cities, but none would take them in. They weren't even allowed to enter the county seats. Such a massive tide of refugees was a heavy burden for any local government.
Moreover, the drought was widespread, and these counties and cities were already struggling. They couldn't even care for their own people, let alone these outsiders.
At most, they would offer porridge for two or three days before sending soldiers to drive them away, forcing them to keep moving.
But by now, the refugees had reached the end of their rope. Their food and supplies were long gone. If this continued, death was all but certain.
They had finally received reliable news in Yanping City: The Court's relief grain had arrived in True Martial County.
They had come here full of hope, only to be told that True Martial County would not let them in?
How could they not be in an uproar?
"Let's go! We'll go together and see if these officials will help us or not! If they really won't, then there's nothing more to say—we'll rebel! We just want to live! What have we done wrong?!"
"That's right! If they won't feed us, we'll rebel!"
"Rebel!!!"
The crowd's anger erupted in an instant.
The constant pressure of life and death finally boiled over.
This band of starving refugees was pushed to the very brink of rebellion.
According to the laws of Great Yu, rebellion was punishable by the execution of nine generations of one's clan.
But forget nine generations... what about ten?
They were starving to death!
Why would they care about any of that?
Qin Fang, his expression grim, moved with the crowd without a word.
...
True Martial County was a relatively unknown county seat within Funan County.
Though not famous, it was nestled by mountains and water, boasting beautiful scenery.
The city was built against a mountain, with high walls and tightly shut gates. Atop the gatehouse, a line of armored soldiers stood in formation, a defensive posture clearly meant to repel a siege. Bows and crossbows at the ready, their gazes were sharp as they waited.
Outside the walls, a massive crowd of tattered refugees had gathered. A dark, pressing mass of at least tens of thousands, and their numbers were still growing. Even these elite armored soldiers felt the immense pressure, their nerves stretched taut.
"Open the gates! Open the gates! Let us in!"
"We are subjects of Great Yu, just like you! On what grounds do you deny us entry?!"
"Open the gates! Open the gates!"
"We need food! We want to live!!!"
The refugees screamed, their voices shrill with desperation.
Inside the city, night had not yet fully fallen, but every household had barred its doors and windows. Still, people peeked out from behind their window lattices, watching the situation unfold.
"What are we going to do? I heard the refugees have surrounded the city! If they break through the gates... what... what will happen to us?!"
The townspeople within the walls were also sick with worry.
As the saying goes, refugees are no different from bandits!
Faced with such a huge number of refugees, a single misstep in controlling them could lead to an utter catastrophe.
The entirety of True Martial County would be ruined!
While the people both inside and outside the walls worried, Yang Zhenwu, the County Magistrate of True Martial County, paced atop the gatehouse. Clad in a scarlet robe, his face was flushed with anger. The noise from outside grew louder, and he could faintly make out treasonous shouts like "Rebel! Rebel!", causing the sweat on his brow to bead faster.
He stopped abruptly and roared, "Haven't they arrived yet?!"
His Master, Lai Lang, wiped the sweat from his own forehead and quickly replied, "Men have already been sent. We should have news very soon..."
"Damn it! Send more men to hurry them along! I don't care what methods they use, they must get a shipment of grain here today! Otherwise, if True Martial County's walls are breached, do they think they can escape unscathed?!"
In his rage, Yang Zhenwu slammed his palm down. With a CRACK, a piece of the stone battlement next to him was shattered by the force of the blow!
Everyone present fell silent as cicadas in autumn, not daring to speak.
Yang Zhenwu knew his official career was over.
He might even lose his life over this.
The reason was...
The relief grain.
True Martial County was situated by a mountain and water, the water being the Chujiang River.
Because of its well-developed waterways and convenient transportation, the Court had chosen this place as a disaster relief hub.
Three days ago, one hundred thousand *shi* of the Court's relief grain had arrived in True Martial County via the Chujiang River.
Originally, all he had to do was wait for the refugees to arrive, then open the granaries, distribute the food, and slowly settle them...
Those who could be sent back to their hometowns would be sent back; those who could be settled locally would be settled locally...
It would certainly be troublesome, but if handled properly, it would be a monumental achievement. Once it was done, a promotion was practically guaranteed.
But the accident happened two days ago...
A sudden fire in the night had swept through the granary holding the relief supplies, with no warning. The soldiers guarding it were all killed, and the grain was doused in flammable oil.
There were also men in black who killed under the cover of darkness, disrupting the firefighting efforts...
The great fire burned for a full day and night.
One hundred thousand *shi* of relief grain went up in flames.
Yang Zhenwu hadn't closed his eyes since the night before last.
He knew he was finished.
One hundred thousand *shi* of relief grain... that wasn't just grain.
It was the lives of tens of thousands of refugees!
And those tens of thousands of refugees were a destabilizing force capable of overthrowing an entire commandery!
If they truly rebelled...
Then he, the County Magistrate who had "forced good people to rebel," would be the first to bear the brunt.
The first act of quelling the rebellion might very well be to execute him in front of the refugees to appease their anger!
Never mind that the situation was a complete mess and he still hadn't found out who was pulling the strings from behind the scenes.
Even if he did find out... he wouldn't be able to escape the charge of dereliction of duty.
Dereliction of duty with such severe consequences... the most merciful end for him would be a single stroke of the blade after autumn.
So for Yang Zhenwu, only one thing mattered right now...
Control the situation!
No matter what, he could not let these refugees actually rebel.
As long as they didn't rebel, there was still a sliver of hope.
Otherwise...
Thinking of his family, young and old, Yang Zhenwu's expression grew even uglier. His fists clenched so tightly they crackled.
'...If I find out who's behind this,' he thought, 'I'll stake my life to tear them limb from limb!'
In the midst of his fury, the sound of hurried footsteps approached, and an excited voice called out, "My lord, the grain is here!"
Yang Zhenwu's eyes lit up. He strode quickly to the side of the gatehouse and looked down. Sure enough, a long procession of grain carts, lit by torches, was making its way from the city center toward the main gate.
The men hauling the grain were all strong and robust, and the carts flew different banners, clearly belonging to various factions.
"Master Yang, the True Martial Boxing Hall has come to deliver grain as requested!"
A man in his thirties smiled, clasped his hands, and cupped his fist in salute to Yang Zhenwu on the wall.
"Huichun Hall has come to deliver grain as requested."
A wiry old man in his sixties clasped his hands and spoke.
"The Four Seasons Boxing Hall, here to deliver grain!"
"True Martial Hall, here to deliver grain!"
"The Long Family, here to deliver grain..."
One voice after another rang out.
Seeing this, Yang Zhenwu let out a long sigh of relief. His spirits lifted, and he clasped his hands earnestly. "On behalf of the people outside the walls, I thank you all for your righteous aid! We can save the pleasantries for another day."
With that, he turned and gave the order: "Open the gates and distribute the grain!"
...
When Qin Fang arrived at the city gate with the furious mob of refugees, he saw rows of hundreds of armored soldiers, bows and crossbows at the ready, lining both sides of the entrance.
Scores of torches illuminated the wide gateway, making every detail as clear as day.
Dozens of bonfires were already lit, with dozens of large pots boiling over them, sending the rich aroma of rice wafting through the air.
Cart after cart of grain was being brought out from the city and piled up near the gate.
"There's enough for everyone, but you must remain orderly! No pushing! Anyone who pushes will be driven out immediately!"
A soldier shouted, maintaining order.
"After you've eaten, report to the designated area by the gate! The master will arrange for your settlement!"
The refugees, their eyes green with hunger, smelled the rice and began swallowing hard. One person couldn't resist and lunged forward.
In response, a soldier viciously smashed his scabbard down on the man's head.
The man didn't even make a sound before he collapsed, blood instantly streaming from the wound.
The refugees behind him scrambled back in fear.
The soldier in charge of order had a cold expression. "Everyone, line up! Follow the rules! Otherwise, no one eats! Anyone who breaks the rules, don't blame us for being merciless! Drag him away!"
With that command, two other soldiers dragged away the refugee, who was bleeding from his head, his state of life unknown.
Harsh punishments are needed in chaotic times.
And this was just such a time.
That single blow established their authority. The other refugees immediately quieted down. They continued to swallow their saliva, but no matter how unbearable their hunger was, they didn't dare act out again.
Before, when there was no food, they had no way to survive. Naturally, their blood had run hot and they had clamored for rebellion... That was desperation.
But now that grain was being distributed, they saw a path to survival.
Besides, the officials with their real swords and spears were watching them like hawks. That brutal strike had knocked the courage right out of most of them.
After all, they still understood the age-old principle: the common folk do not fight the officials.
When there's a chance to live, who would choose to rebel for no reason?
Qin Fang stared at the scene, stunned for a moment. 'Weren't they saying no grain would be given out?'
But he quickly put the thought aside and hurried to the back of the line. Smelling the long-missed aroma of rice, his stomach rumbled even louder, the gnawing hunger more intense.
Among the other refugees, however, his rumbling stomach wasn't particularly noticeable. A mad chorus of growls was rising from the entire crowd.
He waited, enduring the agony.
"What's going on? Where did this grain come from?"
A questioning voice faintly reached his ears.
Qin Fang instinctively turned his head to look.