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

The crowd around was making noise, and of course, it wasn't just one family making noise.

Jiang Xing leaned against the locust tree trunk, his gaze sweeping across the messy threshing ground, finally settling on the carriage to the east, which had lost half of its curtain.

Jiang Qingshan was getting off the carriage, looking smug. His worn blue cotton robe was covered in mud and dust, and there was a tear in the cuff. He was also limping a little, but his posture when getting off the carriage was much straighter than usual. His chin was slightly raised, and his eyes and brows were filled with an uncontainable joy.

Jiang Xing raised an eyebrow. He had really gotten away with being the hero who saved the damsel in distress last night.

He even managed to get on the good side of Scholar Chen; he really got incredibly lucky.

After Zhou woke up, she heard Jiang Dazhu recount the events of last night in bits and pieces.

When she first heard it, she felt hatred in her heart, hatred that Jiang Qingshan had abandoned his own sister for a woman, hatred that made her teeth itch. But then, Jiang Qingshan handed over the hundred catties of coarse rice and thirty taels of silver that Chen Xiucai had given him to her intact.

The bag of silver was pure silver, and the grain itself was real. Zhou clutched the bag of silver, her hatred crumbling like a mud wall soaked in water, piece by piece.

With these, Qingshan can continue her studies and eventually become a scholar or a provincial graduate. All the suffering she has endured in this life will be worthwhile. As for Qingyue, she is just a maid. Losing her virginity is unfortunate, but we can't ruin Qingshan's future because of this, can we?

Zhou raised her head and watched Jiang Qingyue walk over. Jiang Qingyue's face was still pale and her eyes were still empty, but her steps were more steady than last night.

Zhou reached out and took her hand, her voice low and deliberately gentle: "Yue'er, your brother had no choice. You saw what happened last night. If he hadn't run, you would both have died. Now that he's run, at least he can bring reinforcements. Look, he brought the soldiers with him, didn't he?"

Jiang Qingyue didn't speak; her hand remained frozen in Zhou's grasp, like a withered twig.

Zhou pulled her closer and continued, "Your brother has taken out the grain and silver; he cares about this family and about you, his sister. That hundred catties of coarse rice and thirty taels of silver are enough for our family to eat for several months, and the rest can be used to pay for your brother's tuition. Once he passes the imperial examination, you'll be the sister of a scholar; then who will dare to look down on you?"

Jiang Qingyue's lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but after staring at Zhou Shi for a long time, she swallowed her words back.

She pulled her hand away from Zhou's, turned around and walked back to the corner, squatted down again, hugged her knees, and turned her back to everyone.

Jiang Caimao stood a few steps away and heard Zhou's words clearly.

With a hundred catties of unpolished rice, thirty taels of silver, and Chen Xiucai as his backer, his eyes were glued to the bulging grain sacks on Jiang Dazhu's cart, unable to look away for a long time.

His eyes were so red they were almost bleeding, but what good was his red eyes? He had nothing left now.

When Jiang Caimao heard the first scream coming from the perimeter of the camp last night, he sprang up from his bedding.

He scooped up his sleeping grandson, not even bothering to put on his shoes, and ran towards the low hill without calling out to anyone.

There was only one thought in his mind: his grandson was the root of the Jiang family, and nothing else mattered.

He had run less than two hundred steps when he bumped into three bandits guarding a bend in the mountain path. They saw Jiang Caimao carrying a child and stumbling towards him, and they grinned.

Jiang Caimao turned to run back, but his foot stepped on a loose pebble and he fell forward, hitting the back of his head on the stone. Everything went black and he knew nothing more.

When he woke up, it was already getting light. He was lying in the bushes, with several broken branches pressing down on him, and his face was covered in dried blood.

His grandson lay less than three steps away from him, his small body curled up, with a blackened, congealed gash on his throat.

When the soldiers dragged him out of the bushes, he struggled to crawl two steps toward his grandson before being carried back by two soldiers.

Back at the camp, he didn't cry. He just squatted down next to his grandson's body and repeatedly stroked the tuft of soft hair on the back of the child's head until the soldiers carried the body away.

At this moment, he looked at Jiang Dazhu's cart, which was piled high with grain sacks. Zhou Shi was lying on the quilt, her face was swollen, but the corners of her mouth were turned up.

Jiang Qingshan sat on the carriage shaft. Chen Xiucai had just taken him as a student and was talking to him through the carriage curtain. Jiang Dazhu squatted beside him, sorting through grain sacks, humming an off-key tune.

They have everything, while he has nothing.

Jiang Caimao's mind was racing, calculating the fate of his clansmen from Jiangjia Village. They had either died or scattered along the way, leaving very few survivors.

The rest of them don't listen to him either. Shen Dehou's words carry more weight than his, and Ma Dadan's words carry even more weight. He is called the clan leader, but in reality, he is nothing.

If he wants to survive, he must find someone he can rely on.

Jiang Caiquan had followed the Zhang family all the way. Jiang Caiquan and Jiang Laosan were cousins, but in terms of kinship, he was closer to Jiang Dazhu's family.

If Jiang Caiquan can be supported, why can't he? Besides, back in the village, he took the best care of Jiang Dazhu's family. For the sake of the eldest son's family, how many times did he suppress the second and third sons' families?

How many times did he slam his fist on the table with the clan elders in the ancestral hall? How many people did he offend in order to favor Jiang Qingshan's education? Jiang Dazhu cannot deny these debts.

He straightened the cloth strip on his head, wiped the dried blood on his face with his sleeve, and walked towards Jiang Dazhu.

Jiang Dazhu was squatting on the ground sorting through grain sacks when he saw a pair of tattered cloth shoes with toes sticking out in front of him. He looked up.

"Dazhu." Jiang Caimao squatted down and lowered his voice, "Uncle wants to have a few words from the bottom of his heart with you."

Jiang Dazhu paused for a moment.

Jiang Caimao glanced back at the noisy crowd behind him, making sure no one was paying attention, before leaning closer and saying, "As you know, my grandson is gone, my son is gone, and I'm all alone left with my family."

He paused, his throat tightening. "You know how I treated you back in the village. In this world, no one can survive alone. Dazhu, your family has received so much grain and silver; you can't just watch me starve. I don't need anything else, just a bowl of porridge a day. Once we're settled in the southwest, just give me a bite to eat. Is that alright?"