My strength increases by one percent every day; I can destroy stars with my bare hands.

Within half a month, news of the complete fall of Cangyunling and the crushing defeat of the border troops spread like wildfire, quickly engulfing the rear areas.

"The barbarian army is about to attack; the three thousand defenders of Cangyun Ridge have been completely wiped out."

"The border is completely ruined. The barbarians are burning, killing, and looting, committing all sorts of atrocities. Our country is doomed!"

"Everyone, run for your lives! It'll be too late if you wait any longer!"

"..."

Panic swept through Yuyang County like a plague.

In the streets and alleys, in villages and towns, people gathered together, their faces pale, their voices filled with fear and despair.

Grain shops and cloth stores were sold out.

Unscrupulous merchants took the opportunity to inflate prices, raising rice from ten coins to hundreds or even thousands of coins, yet there was still no market for it.

People frantically hoarded food, every household kept their doors and windows tightly shut, and the once bustling streets were completely deserted.

All that remained was a stifling silence and a chorus of lamentations; everyone lived in fear, their lives hanging by a thread.

The cries of children, the sighs of the elderly, and the sobs of women filled every corner, and living in constant fear became the norm for all the people at the bottom of society.

They feared war, they feared death, and they feared even more that in this chaotic world, they wouldn't even have a chance to survive.

Just as the people were gripped by fear and struggling to survive, an imperial edict from the court completely crushed these suffering people at the bottom of society.

Due to successive defeats in the war, the army's food and weapons were almost exhausted. In order to support the front-line battlefield, the imperial court issued an edict to triple the taxes.

All shops and farmers, regardless of wealth, must pay the full amount within one month. Those who fail to pay by the deadline will have their property confiscated and be sent to the army to fund military supplies.

An imperial edict, like a sharp blade, pierced the hearts of all the people.

The already impoverished people, struggling to survive and barely able to pay their basic taxes, now find it impossible to do so. The sudden tripling of their taxes is tantamount to cutting off their last means of survival.

Government officials and tax collectors swarmed out, armed with chains and clubs, violently demanding payment from house to house, their menacing demeanor showing no mercy.

"Pay your taxes! Pay your taxes now! The imperial court has decreed that anyone who dares to resist paying taxes is guilty of treason and collusion with the enemy."

"No food at home? If you have no food, you can use your house or clothes as collateral. If you still don't pay, you'll be taken away and forced into the army."

"Paying taxes is your duty, how dare you shirk it?"

"..."

In an instant, cries of sorrow filled the land, and the people suffered terribly.

Some farmers were unable to pay their taxes, and their few acres of meager land were forcibly confiscated, forcing their entire families to leave their homes and become homeless.

Some small vendors had their stalls smashed and all their goods confiscated, leaving them bankrupt overnight.

Some impoverished families, having no other choice, had to sell their children to earn a meager sum to pay taxes, resulting in the separation of family members and unbearable pain.

Families were torn apart, people were left homeless, and countless people committed suicide in despair under the dual oppression of hunger and exorbitant taxes.

This is the truest description of the Great Yan Dynasty at this moment: a living hell.

The people pleaded and kowtowed until their heads bled, but all they got in return was a merciless beating with sticks.

Those high-ranking officials and nobles still live in luxury and extravagance.

They colluded with tax officials to conceal land and shops, shifting all tax burdens onto the common people.

He pays no taxes himself, continues to live a life of extravagance and debauchery, and remains indifferent and cold-hearted while the people suffer.

The imperial decree to impose heavy taxes, like a biting cold wind, inevitably reached Qingxi Village.

Tax collectors and yamen runners from the county stormed into this already impoverished little village.

"Clang, clang..."

The chains dragged on the ground with a screeching sound, and menacing faces shattered the tranquility of the village.

"Listen up, everyone! The imperial court has urgently imposed taxes. Every household must pay in full. Anyone who dares to delay even a fraction of the amount will be punished as a tax evader."

"No money? No food? Then use people as collateral. Send all able-bodied men to serve in the border army, and send the elderly and weak to perform corvée labor. No one will escape."

"You all better behave yourselves, or my big knife won't discriminate."

"..."

The head tax collector stood at the village entrance, shouting at the top of his lungs.

The constables behind him, armed with sticks, broke down doors and entered each house.

They ransacked the place, taking everything, even half a bag of coarse grains or a piece of coarse cloth clothing.

The villagers of Qingxi Village have always relied on the weather for their livelihood, but years of war and demonic calamities have led to poor harvests.

The people were already starving and emaciated, unable to afford even half a penny, let alone the triple tax.

The sounds of wailing, crying, and pleading echoed throughout the village.

"Officers, please, spare our lives! We have absolutely nothing left in our homes."

Old Wang and his family huddled in the yard, their only half-bag of wild vegetables and bran stolen by the yamen runners.

The old man knelt on the ground and clung tightly to the leg of the bailiff, kowtowing until his forehead bled profusely.

"Get out of here! You dare resist taxes? You're a real troublemaker."

The bailiffs, their faces full of impatience, kicked the old man to the ground, grabbed his young son, chained him up, and forcibly dragged him away to be exiled.

"If you can't pay your taxes, go to the border and risk your life to pay them off."

The cruelty of the imperial court was appalling; if taxes couldn't be paid, they would take people to pay them.

They were very familiar with this approach; it was clearly not the first time they had done it.

"No, no!"

"Sir, I beg you, he's my only son!"

"Let me go! Sir, arrest me!"

"..."

Mr. and Mrs. Wang knelt on the ground, weeping and kowtowing repeatedly, trying to exchange themselves for their son.

The elderly couple only had one son, and once he was conscripted into the army, he would likely never return.

"Father, Mother..."

The boy's cries and the old man's desperate roars made people's hearts tighten, but no one dared to step forward to stop them.

"Someone please do me a good deed and buy my daughter!"

"She's beautiful, she can do anything, and she can be beaten and scolded at will."

The neighbor, Wang, had nothing to offer in return. To save his family's lives, he could only kneel at the village entrance, weeping bitterly, with his seven- or eight-year-old children by his side.

He wanted to sell his own flesh and blood to get a little money to pay taxes.

"Father, Mother, sob sob sob..."

The heart-wrenching cries of families separated from their loved ones became the most tragic lament in Qingxi Village.

Others were forced to sign contracts with tears in their eyes, selling off their remaining meager land and becoming vagrants with nowhere to go.

The entire Qingxi Village was like a living hell, with its people displaced, their homes destroyed, and their lives ruined.

Tax collectors and yamen runners were fierce and menacing, hurling insults and brandishing sticks without any mercy.

They only care about taxes, they have no humanity whatsoever.

They are also caught in a bind; if they fail to collect taxes, no one will be able to take responsibility if the higher-ups blame them.

For these people at the bottom of society, the sentence above is an unbearable burden.