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

Jiang Xing waited in the camp for a while, but his third uncle did not return.

She tucked the dagger into her waistband and said to Zhang, "Grandma, I'm going to see Third Uncle."

Zhang nodded.

Jiang Xing walked through the camp towards the village chief. Before she got close, she heard people arguing. One was her third uncle's voice, another was Shen Dehou's voice, and the third was someone she didn't recognize. His voice wasn't loud, but his tone was very aggressive.

She quickened her pace and walked over.

The merchant was pointing his finger at his third uncle: "What do you know, you're just a farmer? Reading the weather? Are you even accurate? If it doesn't snow today, can you afford to compensate for the day's delay?"

Third Uncle didn't respond; he didn't want to argue with this kind of person.

Shen Dehou stepped in front of him: "Master Qian, Third Uncle is an old farmer, and everyone in the village knows his ability to read the weather. If you think it's inaccurate, you can go your way, and we'll stay."

"I'm doing this for Captain Ma's sake!" Merchant Qian's voice rose. "All you people do is drag our feet! If you're late for reporting, who's going to take responsibility when the higher-ups blame us?"

"What if someone freezes to death or falls ill during the journey? That would slow us down even further, preventing us from arriving on time. Who would be responsible then?"

A woman's voice interrupted from the side.

Jiang Xing walked over and stood next to Third Uncle, looking at Qian Shanghu. Her cotton-padded jacket was covered with grass clippings and mud, and there were traces of frost on her face. Her eyes were so bright that people dared not look directly at her.

"Who are you?" Qian, the merchant, frowned.

Jiang Xing didn't reply, but his tone was resolute as he stared intently at the merchant: "You say Third Uncle doesn't understand the weather? Do you? If you stand outside in this fox fur coat for an hour and you can still stand and talk, I'll apologize on behalf of Third Uncle."

The merchant's face flushed red: "You..."

"What do you mean, 'you'?" Jiang Xing didn't give him a chance to speak: "You have a carriage and warm clothes, so of course you're not afraid of the cold. But there are more than two hundred people in the group, and not everyone is like you. If you think they deserve to freeze to death, you can go on your own. No one will stop you, but don't block others from finding a way to survive."

The merchant was speechless, pointing at Jiang Xing, his fingers trembling, but he couldn't utter a single word.

More and more people gathered around to watch.

They all agreed with what Jiang Xing said.

Ma Dadan stood to the side, glanced at Jiang Xing, then at Qian Shanghu, his lips twitched, but he didn't say anything.

"Well said."

A gentle voice came from behind.

Chen Xiucai got off the carriage, wearing a worn cotton robe. He walked over and bowed to Ma Dadan.

"Captain Ma, I am Chen Wenyuan, a scholar from Yongzhou. What this young lady says makes sense. The weather is indeed about to change. There are many elderly, weak, women and children in the group. If we travel in the snow, there may be a risk to our lives. I suggest we rest here for a day and let everyone prepare warm clothing. It will not be too late to set off tomorrow."

Ma Dadan glanced at Chen Xiucai; the scholar's words carried more weight.

Jiang Qingshan had joined the crowd at some point. Standing at the edge of the group, he listened to Chen Xiucai's words and a thought struck him: this was an opportunity to impress Chen Xiucai.

He cleared his throat and stepped forward: "Captain Ma, the students also think we should rest here. If someone gets frostbite or falls ill while traveling in the snow, it will waste even more time."

Chen Xiucai glanced at him and nodded.

Jiang Qingshan's ears turned red, but he stood up straight.

Jiang Dazhu and Zhou Shi stood at the back of the crowd, watching their son speak in front of Chen Xiucai. Both of them had complicated expressions.

Jiang Dazhu was stunned, and so was Zhou Shi. When did her son learn to speak in front of the officials?

"Alright, alright." Ma Dadan waved his hand: "Rest here for a day. No one is allowed to leave today. Set up tents and prepare firewood. We'll see how the weather is tomorrow."

He beckoned to one of his men: "Go, pass on the message, we're not leaving today."

The subordinate acknowledged and rode away.

A commotion arose in the crowd, and everyone excitedly hurried to find a place to set up their tents.

The merchant, his face dark, turned and left, leaving a trail on the ground where the hem of his fox fur coat had dragged.

Jiang Xing glanced at Jiang Qingshan, and Jiang Qingshan also glanced at her, but quickly looked away and landed on Chen Xiucai.

Chen Xiucai nodded to his third uncle and Shen Dehou, then turned and got into the carriage.

Jiang Qingshan stood there, watching the carriage curtain fall, stunned for several seconds before being pulled away by Zhou Shi.

Since they weren't leaving, everyone got busy.

Some were chopping wood, some were cutting grass, and some were building sheds.

The hillside was teeming with people; the sounds of sickles chopping branches, hoes digging in the soil, and women calling for their children mingled together in a chaotic cacophony.

Jiang Xing pulled out a piece of oilcloth from the bottom of the oxcart. It was a new one bought in the prefectural city, and he had kept it at the bottom, unwilling to use it.

When Third Uncle saw the oilcloth, his eyes lit up: "This thing is good; it can block the wind and snow."

Jiang Xing spread out the oilcloth, measured its size, and planned to first enclose the oxcart separately, and then use the rest to build a shed.

"Third Uncle, first lay down straw, then cover it with oilcloth."

The two divided the work: Third Uncle went to cut straw, and Jiang Xing went to cut tree branches to build a frame.

Tree branches on the hillside were hard to find; the good ones had all been cut down by the people ahead. Jiang Xing walked a long way before he managed to cut down a few thicker branches, which he carried back to use as pillars.

My third uncle cut a large bundle of straw and spread it on the ground, a thick layer that felt soft and fluffy underfoot.

Jiang Xing stuck tree branches into the ground, tied them together with rope to form a frame, then draped an oilcloth over it and weighed it down with stones.

The shed wasn't big, but it was completely sealed off, with no drafts coming in from any side. When you sat inside, neither the wind nor the snow could get in.

The little calf crawled inside to test it out, then huddled under the covers, only its head sticking out: "Sis, it's warm in here."

Zhang also went inside and sat at the very back, leaning against the mountain wall. Her old leg was in terrible pain today, and she kept a straight face, just trying not to worry her child.

Third Uncle squatted at the entrance of the shed, lit a cigarette, and took a puff.

Jiang Xing was tidying up the remaining straw when a voice came from the side.

"Hey, do you have any extra oilcloth?"

The speaker was a woman in her forties with a round face and bright, darting eyes.

Jiang Xing didn't recognize her, but judging from where she was standing, she must be from the family that had set up the shed next door.

"That's all," Jiang Xing said.

"Your oilcloth is so big, could you spare some for us?" the woman said with a forced smile. "Look at our shed, it's drafty on all sides, how do we sleep at night?"

Jiang Xing glanced at her: "We can't distribute it all; we need it ourselves."

The woman's smile froze for a moment: "You silly girl, why are you so stingy? We're all on the same team, what's wrong with helping each other out?"

"I can't help you." Jiang Xing didn't look at her again and continued to gather the straw.

The woman stood there, her face flushing red and then turning pale, before finally letting out a "humph" and turning away.

She walked back to her shed, squatted on the ground, and became angrier the more she thought about it. She was from the neighboring Majiagou and her name was Wu San Niang.

Wu San Niang squatted beside the shed, her eyes constantly glancing towards Jiang Xing.

The more she looked at Jiang Xing, the more familiar he seemed. She felt like she had seen his features somewhere before.