Shipin Dalizheng

On the way to the imperial capital, Rong Tang never stopped. He only needed to do the same thing once. The more he did it, the more his tracks would be exposed.

But the journey was incredibly difficult. As the old man had said, floods and locust plagues ravaged the land, leaving the people with no food left. In some places, locusts had gnawed away the mountains, and any trees or grass that wasn't poisonous had been eaten either by the locusts or the people themselves. Even before winter, everything was covered in dust, devoid of any greenery.

Of course, the people were unwilling to accept their fate. The news that locusts were edible had spread everywhere, and the people didn't care whether the locusts were poisonous or not. They just caught them and ate them. They were almost starving to death, so how could they care less?

Whenever he encountered such people, Rong Tang would distribute food, and gradually sent out five or six thousand kilograms, and the imperial capital was already in sight.

They chose the South City Gate, where they saw large numbers of people lying in groups with haggard faces and desperate eyes, staring at the direction of the city gate, hoping that someone would come to distribute food.

Countless locusts jumped on their faces and bodies, flying east and west, but no numb refugees caught them.

Rong Tang and his men still had two to three thousand pounds of weight on their horses. Seeing so many refugees, even though they felt reluctant, they hesitated.

How's it in the city?

If they save this food, it can last them for more than a month. If it is all given out, where will they find it later?

Rong Zhan rode his horse to his side and said, "Master, you can't send it again."

This is a huge bottomless pit that can never be filled.

When the refugees lying down saw someone coming, they all stood up and looked eager. However, when they saw that the people were tall and strong and carrying weapons, they became timid.

Rong Tang rode his horse to the city gate and shouted, "Where is the gate officer?"

A head popped out from the city gate tower, "Who's shouting down there?"

"I'm Annanbo. I'm back. Open the city gate quickly."

Not to mention the soldiers whispering on the city gate tower, who is the Earl of Annan? Li Dequan, beside Rong Tang, was so nervous that his heart was in his throat. What was wrong with the young Earl? He thought the north and the south were one. How could his title of Earl of Jian'an in the Northern Dynasty still be effective in the Southern Dynasty?

Even in the Northern Dynasties, the Earl of Jian'an was just a title of medium to large nobility. If people gave you face, you had face. If they didn't, you were nothing.

What? Wait, wait, isn't he the Earl of Jian'an? What the hell is the Earl of Annan?

Li Dequan looked at Rong Tang in horror.

Finally, someone on the city gate tower remembered this person. He was a prince of an exiled tribe in southern Xinjiang who offered mountains of gold and silver and was granted a title by His Majesty. The city gate official curled his lips.

Then he emerged and said, "Lord Annan, the four gates of the imperial capital are closed. Only the west gate provides porridge after noon. Young Lord, there is nothing to eat. Go over there and have a look. No food is being distributed here."

This is treating them like beggars, Rong Zhan became angry when he saw this.

Old Wen reached out to stop him, picked up a stone from the ground and threw it out. The city gate officer cried out and fell backward, blood oozing out from between his fingers and his forehead.

Rong Tang didn't say much. He turned his horse and ran towards the west of the city.

An hour later, the hundred-man team arrived outside the west city gate, and saw refugees lying in the direction from the city gate to Lingyun Mountain. However, unlike the refugees at the south city gate, the refugees here were catching locusts. Except for those who were in poor health and lay on the ground, most of them were catching locusts.

After catching locusts, they would pour the excess ones into a pot of boiling water, scald them to death, then fish them out and dry them in the sun, waiting to exchange them for food.

If there are fewer, just put them on a wooden stick and roast them over the fire. Roast them until they are golden brown and they are crunchy and delicious when you chew them.

Li Dequan had never seen such a devastating sight. He was also poor as a child, sold by his family because they couldn't afford food. He had also experienced a locust plague, a situation in which villagers believed they had offended the gods. They knelt on the ground, kowtowed, and begged the Locust Goddess for forgiveness. They never imagined they would see people eating locusts again.

These refugees who are struggling on the brink of starvation can remain calm as long as they have something to eat.

Rong Tang looked up at the sky and saw that it was almost noon.

Rong Zhan came over and whispered, "Master, there's something wrong with the refugees at the South Gate."

Rong Tang also noticed that compared with the refugees he met on the road, the ones at the South City Gate were surprisingly lazy. Not to mention, the age groups of the refugees there were relatively uniform, and they were generally young and strong, while at the West City Gate there were men, women, young and old, sick and weak, which was the state that normal refugees should be in.

"Send a few people over to explore the situation."

Rong Zhan called Eleven over. He was thin and could play the refugee more convincingly.

Eleven picked out a few thin men from the team, changed them into tattered clothes and straw sandals, asked someone to watch over the horses, and went back to the South City Gate together.

At noon, the city gate opened a crack, and a group of soldiers with swords came out, escorting grain carts and heading towards Lingyun Mountain along the road.

Another person followed behind with a small cart, shouting, "Anyone want to exchange food for it? Locusts or dried vegetables, five pounds for one pound."

Locust hunters immediately came forward to exchange food for food. Rong Tangfa and his men maintained a respectful attitude and showed no signs of looting. Perhaps they had looted before, but were suppressed as a warning.

There was only so much food on the carts, and even if they looted it, they would only have enough to eat one meal. They still knew the difference between a full meal and having porridge every day to survive.

Rong Tang had most of the men watch over the horses and grain in a secluded area, while he, along with four guards, and Old Wen, followed behind the grain cart. Although he didn't call out to Li Dequan, Li Dequan didn't dare leave his side, keeping a close eye on him.

Fortunately, Lingyun Mountain was not far away. Just outside the Lingyun Temple where Master Feng Si worked as a Taoist priest, several large pots were set up with water bubbling. The officers and soldiers who delivered the grain opened the grain bags without washing them and poured a bucket of grain into each pot. Immediately, grass clippings and residues of grain branches floated up.

Li Dequan could smell a pungent musty odor from a distance, which made him sneeze. "Oh my god, what kind of food is this? Is it moldy?"

Beside him, Old Wen was using his clairvoyant eyes to peer into the pot. It was not just grass clippings, dead branches, and fallen leaves floating in the air, but someone else was also throwing handfuls of hay from another bag in. And that wasn't all. A group of tall men emerged from the temple and tossed bloody, skinned rats, snakes, and mountain frogs into the pot to cook. The pot immediately began to swirl with grayish-white blood foam.

He almost vomited and felt nauseous.

A middle-aged man sprinkled a handful of gray particles into each pot. It looked like coarse salt. He was very particular about providing relief to the victims. He knew how to match meat and vegetables and added some salt to prevent the victims from losing strength.

Li Dequan was very excited and strongly requested to see it with his own eyes. Lao Wen gave him a blank look and lent him his clairvoyance.

Li Dequan put the telescope to his eye, and just in time, the soldier who was stirring the pot picked up a mouse, which had just been cooked and had changed color, and it filled the lens of the telescope.

Li Dequan vomited.

"With this kind of endurance, you still insist on watching it."

Old Wen took the clairvoyance back and let Li Dequan squat aside to spit out all the yellow bile.

The refugees waiting to receive the porridge lined up consciously. The officers and soldiers who maintained order waved whips and scolded them, telling them to stand still and not to crowd or cut in line. The elderly, weak, and sick lying on the ground were also supported by their relatives and friends to line up in front of the pots individually.

The man in charge of cooking the porridge was a middle-aged man with a face so tanned and red that Rong Tang almost didn't recognize him. As he approached, officers and soldiers came to drive him away. But seeing that he was well-dressed and had an extraordinary demeanor, and didn't look like a refugee, they stepped back a few steps.

Rong Tang called out tentatively, "Xu Tou, Xu Xiangdong."

Xu Tou suddenly raised his head and saw a stranger. For a moment, he thought he heard Miss Feng Liu's voice.