Sold immediately after wearing it? I took my family and fled the famine.

That evening, Jiang Xing went to see his third uncle.

When Jiang Xing arrived at his house, he was sitting in the yard smoking a pipe. When he saw Jiang Xing, he patted the stool next to him.

"sit."

Jiang Xing sat down and got straight to the point: "Third Uncle, we're leaving."

Third Uncle didn't ask where they were going. He just nodded, took out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, and handed it to Jiang Xing.

Jiang Xing took it and saw that it was a hand-drawn map.

The route south from Jiangjia Village is marked, showing which towns, mountains, rivers, post stations, ferries, official roads, and shortcuts it passes through.

The paper had yellowed, the edges were curled up, but the ink was still very clear.

"This is the car I used to drive for business when I was young." Uncle San exhaled a puff of smoke, which dispersed in the moonlight like a thin veil.

"Thirty years have passed. Some places may have changed, but the general direction is correct. Head south, past Qingshi Town, and then travel another 1,800 li to Anshui County. There is a ferry crossing in Anshui County. Take a boat from there to cross the river. On the other side of the river is Pingzhou. Pingzhou is prosperous and there is no war. Once you get there, you will be safe."

Jiang Xing folded the map neatly and tucked it into his pocket.

"Third Uncle, aren't you leaving? Come with us. The war from the north will be upon us soon."

Third Uncle smiled, a smile with an indescribable quality.

He stretched out his pipe and pointed to the moon in the sky: "I'm an old man who has never had any children. I can't be a burden to you, my neighbor. You have to take care of the calf and Grandma all by yourself. If I were to join you, it would be even more tiring."

Jiang Xing frowned almost imperceptibly: "You have an oxcart, you can help us out."

"Girl, we'll encounter a lot of trouble on this journey without a travel permit. You can take a shortcut with your grandmother. Besides, the war hasn't even started yet, so let's wait until it does." Uncle San turned to look at her, his gaze earnest.

"You're more capable than I thought, but remember, the biggest mistake capable people make is thinking they can handle anything. When you encounter difficulties along the way, ask for help when you need to, and humble yourself when you need to. Staying alive is more important than anything else."

Jiang Xing nodded.

"And there's more." Third Uncle took out a cloth bag from his pocket, opened it, and inside was a short knife.

The scabbard was made of cowhide, worn white, and the handle was wrapped with black thread, which had turned dark brown from sweat stains.

He drew his knife, the blade gleaming coldly in the moonlight, with a thin blood groove running along it.

"I got this knife twenty years ago." He handed the knife to Jiang Xing: "Take it, use it on the road."

Jiang Xing took the dagger and held it in his hand.

The hilt of the knife still carried the lingering warmth of Third Uncle's palm.

"Third Uncle..."

Third Uncle waved his hand, "Go."

Jiang Xing stood up, bowed, and turned to leave.

The sound of my third uncle coughing came from behind me, and it was particularly clear in the autumn night.

In the middle of the night, Jiang Xing was sleeping when he was suddenly awakened by a series of urgent gong sounds.

"Clang clang clang clang—"

She sat up abruptly, her hand instinctively reaching for the dagger beside her pillow.

The voice of village chief Shen Dehou came from outside the door, hoarse and urgent, as if he had been shouting for too long and his throat was cracked: "Everyone get up! Get up! The imperial court has arrived! The northern army has been defeated, and the rebels are about to attack! Everyone pack your things and assemble at the village entrance before dawn to retreat south with the government troops! Hurry! Hurry!"

The village chief Shen Dehou's voice boomed in the night like a muffled thunderclap.

The sounds of dogs barking, children crying, and chickens running around were all mixed together, making the whole village sound like a hornet's nest that had been poked.

Jiang Xing opened his eyes on the third gong sound.

She sat up and nudged Zhang next to her, saying, "Grandma, get up, we're leaving."

Zhang was still in a daze. Xiao Niu was huddled in the quilt, his eyes still closed, and he mumbled "Sister" in a daze.

"Don't be afraid, I've prepared everything. You can leave as soon as you put on your clothes."

She was indeed ready.

The supplies, food, smoked dried meat, pots and pans, quilts, and backpacks that had been prepared beforehand were all packed.

These are just what's on the surface; their space is also packed full.

I originally planned to set off tomorrow night.

I just didn't expect it to come so quickly.

Hurried footsteps sounded outside the courtyard gate, followed by the voice of Third Uncle Jiang Caiquan: "Girl! Little Niu! Are you up yet?"

"Get up!" Jiang Xing pushed open the door.

Third Uncle had already harnessed the oxcart. The old ox stood at the door, white breath coming out of its nostrils, clearly having been woken up in the middle of the night and not very happy.

The cart was piled with Uncle San's bundle, a bag of grain, a quilt, and his ever-present pipe.

"Fate is cruel. It seems this old codger is destined to be a burden to you." Uncle San shook his head mockingly.

Jiang Xing immediately loaded all his belongings into the car: "No, we should have left together a long time ago."

The supplies were not much; among the fleeing groups, they were even considered meager, with only a small portion of the grain on display.

The remaining brown rice and white flour were divided into several small bags and stuffed under the quilt.

The dried meat was wrapped in oil paper and hidden at the bottom of the pot.

Zhang was helped into the car, and Xiao Niu, wrapped in a quilt, climbed up. Jiang Xing stood beside the car and took one last look at the three mud-brick houses.

"Let's go," Jiang Xing said.

The village entrance was in complete chaos.

The torchlight illuminated half the village in a bright red glow, and carts, oxcarts, and wheelbarrows lined up in a long queue.

Some people are calling out their children's names, some are cursing, and some are crying.

Jiang Xing spotted Zhou Shi at a glance.

Standing under the big locust tree at the village entrance, Zhou craned her neck to look north, her expression a mixture of anxiety and fear.

The cart beside her was piled high with things: grain sacks, quilts, pots and pans, and even a jar of pickled vegetables, piled up like a small mountain.

"Why isn't Dazhu back yet!" Zhou was so anxious that she stamped her feet. She said to her second aunt, Liu, who was standing beside her, "He's been gone for over an hour! He walked there, which is more than twenty miles round trip, and it's already dark..."

Liu was loading things onto her cart without even looking up: "Your Qingshan is studying in town, and Qingyue is learning a trade at an embroidery shop in the next town. One is in the east, and the other is in the west. How can Brother Dazhu move so fast with his two legs?"

"But we can't just sit here and wait!" Zhou's voice shrilled. "What if the rebels attack and they still haven't returned? What then?"

"Are you going to wait or not?" Liu finally raised her head, her face expressionless.

Zhou opened her mouth, but couldn't say a word.

Should she wait? The whole village was on its way; what if the rebels came if she waited alone? Should she not wait? Her Qingshan and Qingyue were still on their way.

Village chief Shen Dehou stood on the high platform and shouted, "Stop dawdling! We must set off before dawn! We can't wait for anyone!"

Zhou panicked and rushed forward to grab Shen Dehou's sleeve: "Village Chief! Wait a little longer! My Dazhu went to pick up Qingshan and Qingyue, and he hasn't come back yet..."

"No!" Shen Dehou shook off her hand, his voice hoarse but unwavering. "The northern army has been defeated, and the rebel vanguard is less than two hundred li from here. Even a moment's delay could lead to disaster! You can wait if you want, but the entire village of several hundred people cannot wait with you!"

Zhou's face turned pale instantly.

Of course, she wouldn't dare wait by herself.

In the end, Zhou set off in tears. Her husband was not there, and there was no one to pull the cart. She couldn't muster any strength in her arms, so she could only ask her neighbor, Wang Laoshi, to help carry her things while she went along.

She kept turning back to look at herself, muttering "May the Bodhisattva protect you, may the Bodhisattva protect you," her tears soaking her clothes.

Jiang Erzhu's family walked behind Zhou's family.

Jiang Erzhu pushed a wheelbarrow with his daughter Jiang Caiyun sitting on it.

Jiang Caiyun is sixteen years old this year, one year older than Jiang Xing. She is much more timid and has been even more afraid to go out since that incident.

At that moment, she huddled in the car, clutching a blue cloth bundle, trembling all over, not daring to utter a single word.

Jiang Erzhu's son, Jiang Laifu, returned from the next town last night. He works as a shop assistant in a grain and oil shop in the next town. Hearing the news, he rushed back overnight.

At twenty years old, after spending a few years in town and seeing the world, he considered himself superior to the villagers.

He walked beside the wheelbarrow, wearing a half-new blue cloth jacket and mud-caked cloth shoes, his brow furrowed so deeply it could trap a fly.

"Father, are we really leaving?" Jiang Laifu's voice was filled with dissatisfaction. "I heard from people in the next town that the government troops have already assembled in Qingzhou Prefecture, and the rebels can't get through."

Jiang Erzhu pushed the cart in a muffled voice: "Who told you that?"

"That's what Manager Zhao from the grain shop said!"

"Manager Zhao himself has run away, can we trust what he says?"

Jiang Laifu remained silent, but his expression clearly conveyed three words: dissatisfaction.

Jiang Caiyun huddled in the cart and secretly glanced at Jiang Xing, who was walking at the front of the group. Jiang Xing was carrying a bundle on his back, holding onto the oxcart with one hand and tucking the other hand into his sleeve, his face expressionless.

She shrank her neck.