The Ming Dynasty: Starting with bandits, it swept across the land.

Following the scent, Li Chengye saw a dilapidated house with collapsed courtyard walls.

This is the home of Old Du in the village. Ever since his wife and children passed away, the yard has never been cleaned.

The courtyard wall collapsed in the spring, but he didn't pay any attention to it.

When he arrived at the gate of the old courtyard, he found another person there, Yang Chongwang.

Yang Chongwang looked at Li Chengye and spoke first: "You smelled that meaty aroma too?"

Li Chengye nodded.

"Now, apart from Old Zhao's family, no one else in the village has any livestock. What kind of meat do you think is available to eat at this time?"

Li Chengye's mind hadn't quite caught up yet, but seeing Yang Chongwang staring at him without moving, he suddenly understood what Yang Chongwang was implying, and his face turned pale.

Yang Chongwang continued, "In the fourth year of the Tianqi reign, the Turks invaded. At that time, I was in Jian'an Fort, which was the front line of the entire Yulin defense line."

The Tuolu were all cavalry, with no siege equipment and no siege skills, so they couldn't break in, but they managed to surround the entire Jian'an Fort.

The then-General Jiang Yingzhao was a coward; he dared not leave the city to meet the enemy, allowing us to be surrounded without coming to our aid.

"Originally, the grain in Jian'an Fort was enough to feed us for three months, but the garrison troops in the surrounding small villages also fled into Jian'an Fort, so there wasn't enough grain to eat."

At first, things were alright. Although there wasn't much food, at least everyone had something to eat. Originally, we thought this raid would be like the previous ones, lasting only a month or so, and we would retreat if we couldn't conquer it.

But no one expected that they would surround it for two months.

Later, everyone was starving. They boiled and ate all their leather armor and boots, and even boiled the bowstrings they used to kill the enemy. But they were still hungry after eating all that.

Hunger makes people panic; hunger drives people mad.

When General Du Wenhuan finally broke through the enemy's defenses and lifted the siege, only seven people remained in Jian'an Fort, and I was one of them. The general didn't blame me; instead, he let me go home.

The aroma of meat in this village today is exactly the same as it was back in Jian'an Fort.

As Yang Chongwang spoke, the aroma of meat, like insects clinging to bones, spread through the desolate village on the wind.

More and more people peeked out from behind the door, moving closer by the smell.

Several emaciated villagers had gathered outside the old man's courtyard, which was half collapsed. They craned their necks to look inside, and one of them couldn't help but swallow hard, making a sound: "It smells good, it really smells like meat."

Li Chengye looked at Yang Chongwang, a hint of hope in his eyes: "Could it be that Old Du caught some wild game?"

Yang Chongwang shook his head, his expression as somber as a stone: "In this severe drought, all birds and beasts have long since fled. And even if they did, how could a mad old man like him possibly catch them?"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a "thud" came from Old Du's room, as if something had fallen to the ground.

A villager named Wang Erwu, his face flushed red, was so attracted by the aroma that he couldn't resist pushing open the door of the old man's house. He was then so frightened that he backed away repeatedly.

Looking into the house, everyone saw that it was dilapidated and that there was a simple earthen stove in the middle of the room. On the stove was a chipped earthenware pot, from which steam was rising. The enticing yet strange aroma was coming from the pot.

Old Du was squatting on the ground with his back to the door; the sound he made earlier was probably from when he fell.

He was stuffing food into his mouth, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his hair disheveled and stuck to his face.

Li Chengye noticed that the tattered, dark blue-black clothes that Lao Du was wearing were very familiar to him.

Those were the clothes Stone Mother wore when she was buried this morning.

"Old Du!" Li Chengye shouted sternly.

Old Du froze, slowly turning his head. His eyes were bloodshot, his pupils unfocused, making him look less like a human and more like a wild beast that had lost its mind.

He glanced at Li Chengye following the sound, then looked at the earthen stove, shielding the pot behind his back, and let out an urgent growl, as if afraid someone would steal his food.

Li Chengye followed his gaze to the earthenware pot, and when he saw what was inside, his stomach churned.

A section of arm with clearly defined fingers—Wang Erwu was probably so frightened by this sight that he ran away.

"What a terrible thing!" a villager exclaimed.

Many people saw what was happening before them and were so frightened that they backed away. Some even covered their mouths, their faces ashen.

Yang Chongwang stepped forward, grabbed Lao Du by the back of his collar, and pulled him away from the earthenware pot.

The old man struggled frantically, shouting, "It's mine!"

Looking at the horrific scene in the pot and the crazed Old Du, Li Chengye felt a chill run from his feet to his head, and only one cry remained in his heart:

"What the hell kind of world is this?!"

The aroma hadn't even dissipated when villagers had already gathered at the entrance of the ancestral hall.

Clan chief Li Jiaxuan walked to the front of the ancestral hall. He was wearing a faded blue cloth robe, and his back was straight, like the old elm tree at the entrance of the village that had been stripped of its bark but still stood tall.

In front of the ancestral tablets on the altar in the ancestral hall, Old Du was pinned to the ground by two strong men, his hands tied behind his back. His hair was disheveled, and the blood at the corner of his mouth had congealed into dark red scabs. He kept muttering "Hungry... Hungry..." in a dry, hoarse voice.

Li Jiaxuan first walked to the offering table, lit an incense stick, inserted it into the incense burner, bowed deeply to the ancestral tablet, then turned to face the crowd and said, "Ancestors above. Our Qing Shi Village migrated here from Shanxi. For over a hundred years, we have endured many disasters, but we have never committed such heinous crimes as cannibalism and grave robbing. Now, Du Chengliang has lost his mind and committed such a beastly act, which is intolerable to Heaven."

Only then did Li Chengye realize that Lao Du's real name was Du Chengliang. A very ordinary name, just like most people in the village.

Li Jiaxuan's gaze swept over the pale faces of the crowd, and his tone was stern: "The Ming Dynasty has laws, and the emperor is above us. Such evil deeds cannot be tolerated. Today, Du Chengliang will be detained in the back room of the ancestral hall for safekeeping. We will report to the authorities later and deal with him according to the law."

The crowd fell silent; no one objected, except for the faint sound of Stone's low sobs.

Old Du was then lifted up by two strong men and dragged outside.

He staggered, his bound hands flailing wildly in the air as if trying to grasp something. As he passed through the crowd, Li Chengye met his gaze; his eyes were empty and lifeless, like a puppet.

Just then, a series of slow, drawn-out footsteps approached. Landlord Zhao Shouren, fanning himself with a folding fan and dressed in a silk mandarin jacket, strolled over leisurely, surrounded by several servants. Despite the severe drought, his complexion remained ruddy, and the sandalwood scent emanating from his ebony folding fan contrasted sharply with the dusty atmosphere of the village.

He stood on the periphery of the crowd, his face bearing a compassionate expression, though the corners of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he were suppressing a laugh. Seeing Lao Du being led away, he raised his voice, "Clan Chief Li handled it appropriately. Such scoundrels deserve severe punishment."

Changing the subject, his gaze swept over the sallow faces of the villagers, and his tone became earnest: "Fellow villagers, these days, it's hard for everyone. But no matter how difficult it is, you can't do such a heinous thing."

I, Zhao Shouren, have lived in this village for decades, and I can't bear to see everyone starve to death. If anyone really can't make ends meet, feel free to borrow money from me. I have money and grain, and the interest is negotiable. It's not like we've all fallen to the state of Lao Du. Don't you all agree?

The meaning behind the words was clear to everyone. Some lowered their heads, some looked angry, but no one spoke.

After all, given the state of the world, they will most likely end up seeking his help sooner or later.

Li Chengye stood in the crowd, looking at the ancestral tablet above the ancestral hall. The clan elder's words, "The laws of the Ming Dynasty, the emperor and father above," echoed in his ears. He then caught a glimpse of Zhao Shouren's smug face and finally remembered Lao Du's empty eyes.

His gaze gradually darkened, eventually settling into a cold, resolute expression.