After sending Mr. Zhuang away, Zhang Yingchen returned to the study. He sat in the empty study for a long time, listening to the sound of Taoist students reciting scriptures in the hall in front. [No pop-up novel website] He called Ming and Qing.
"You go to the main hall in front and tell the junior brothers not to do their homework today and come inside first. I have something to tell them."
"Yes, Master." Ming Qing bowed and went out.
After a while, dozens of his disciples came in - these were all carefully selected by him from the refugees. They had a certain culture and high understanding. They stayed by his side to teach. They were all future new Taoists. core seeds.
After all the disciples had seen the ceremony, he glanced at all the disciples: the older one was older and the younger one was younger. The older one was fifteen or sixteen years old, and the younger one was only ** years old. All of them had handsome looks and fine bones - I had never picked such a good young man in the past few years in Lingao - and seeing that they all looked up to him like a god, Zhang Yingchen coughed lightly and began to lecture.
A large group of refugees are advancing on the land of Yizhou.
It is the time of the first lunar month. In the past, farmers who had just celebrated the New Year would still be resting at home, gathering farm tools in preparation for the upcoming spring sowing. However, right now, they were trudging through the icy and snowy wasteland.
After the spring and summer floods, there are no more fields on the land. The floods have destroyed the field edges and washed away the crops, leaving only yellow sand all over the mountains and plains. At this moment, the heavy snow covered the sand again, leaving only a desolate and silent desert soil.
The trees have long been stripped of their bark and are dead, with no trace of green left. The snow-covered road was trampled on and filled with mud. Groups of people, driven out of the hot land of their hometown by the famine, trudged on this cold and muddy road, carrying backpacks. Those who carry burdens, those who push carts, those who use sticks... all of them are sallow and thin, wearing shabby clothes. The expressionless faces and the dull eyes. It seems that there are countless sorrows and endless sorrows, but there is nowhere to express them. Fallen corpses are scattered along the roadside, regardless of whether the fallen person is still breathing or not, if there is no one to take care of them. Immediately, the clothes will be stripped off by people passing by, leaving only emaciated corpses for wild dogs to bite.
The dogs that luckily escaped the mouths of the hungry people became ferocious due to eating too much human flesh during the famine years, and followed the refugees in droves. Fighting over the bodies that fell on the road. Those who are old, young, and weak will be knocked down alive by the dogs and bitten and eaten once they are left alone.
There is no smoke in the villages along the way, and the half-collapsed houses have dark openings without doors or windows. In the distance, there are a few piles of fresh loess in the mass graves under the dead trees with broken monuments, and green smoke rises. Paper money was fluttering... and desolate and desperate cries floated far away in the wind.
Bai Puting used a walking stick to trudge through the mud. His family has always been a medium-sized farmer with more than 20 acres of land. Feeding a few big animals, life was pretty good. So I have a formal "official name" and I went to private school for several years when I was a child. He is not a "blind person". In good years, he uses his surplus food to make some loan sharks. He is considered a respectable person in the village.
However, in the past few years, the imperial court's extra missions have become more and more severe every year, and floods, droughts, and locust plagues have continued. Bai Puting struggled. Barely holding on to their own little bit of land to live. Thinking about whether he could survive it - his hopes collapsed in this flood.
The floods destroyed crops, drowned livestock, and destroyed the land that his family had worked so hard to save even at the cost of annihilating their family ties. After the old man of the Bai family fell ill, in order to prevent his family from selling their land for treatment, He committed suicide due to illness and was also washed away.
The family was finally forced to embark on the road to escape. I heard that the situation in Yizhou is pretty good and there is a way to survive. He took his family south, and the refugees gathered along the way, gradually becoming a turbulent flow of people.
His daughter-in-law, with her head covered, was sitting on a wheelbarrow pushed by her eldest son, holding her daughter sitting on the other side with one hand, and holding a thick hemp rope tied to the wheelbarrow with some rags and household items. Looking at the tragic situation on the road, she kept shedding tears. She has lived for more than forty years and has never left a place twenty miles away from home. Now she has left her home and traveled far away. She really doesn’t know where the end of this road is. What is it about my family?
Compared with most people in this refugee crowd, the Bai family is considered to be in a better position. They have cotton-padded clothes and some dry food. There are a few young men in the family who can protect themselves. So only two people were lost along the way: Bai Puting's youngest son and his mother. The grandfather and grandson finally did not die in the wilderness, but were buried in a wasteland.
She thought of her young son who died after being unable to withstand the bumps on the road, and of her relatives at home who didn't know what their plight was. Her heart was as sharp as a knife, but she didn't dare to cry loudly. She just cried silently and recited the "scripture" taught to her by the "Taoist priests" in the crowd. It is said that as long as she recites it repeatedly, her deceased relatives can escape from reincarnation and enter bliss. Disasters will disappear early and her family can return to their homeland... …
Along the way, everyone was telling the story: There is a demon in Yizhou. As long as you kill the demon, the flood will be resolved and the deceased will be able to die. The key point is: this demon has hoarded a large amount of food, enough for everyone to eat as much as they want - until they are full.
At first, these words were just rumors among the refugees. Gradually, many people wearing monk robes but not shaving their heads mixed in on the road. They kept preaching about going to Yizhou to "eliminate demons and defend the Tao", muttering to themselves along the way. No one could understand the scriptures, and various long banners with scriptures written on them were also displayed.
The conchs and drums and trumpets were played all the way, making a mournful sound, mixed with endless scriptures, which caused an inexplicable fanaticism among the refugees who had already fallen into despair. More and more refugees participated in this madness. Although they can only recite one sentence over and over again.
Xiao Chuba read the scriptures loudly and forced himself to move forward. He is a young man in his twenties, but he is almost as old as a man in his forties or fifties. Hunger took away his youth. Let him become one of this stumbling army of refugees.
He had no feelings about leaving his hometown. It had been more than twenty years since he was born - he didn't know exactly how old he was - but his hometown had not given him any benefits, and he had never had a clean meal. Wearing a piece of clothing that doesn't show any skin. Endless hard work and endless bullying. His parents died silently when he was still an adult, leaving him alone.
"I'm about to die..." Xiao Chuba felt like his stomach was on fire. The bits of ground bark and bran residue he had eaten the day before yesterday had long since disappeared. He only felt dizzy and his legs were as heavy as lead. . Several times he couldn't help but want to sit down on the side of the road, but he knew he couldn't sit down: many people were like him, wanting to sit on the side of the road to catch the relay and catch their breath, but as a result, they stooped and never got up again.
The sound of the mantras became smaller and smaller in my ears, and became farther and farther away. Those "Taoist priests" said: As long as you recite it repeatedly, you can enter the paradise after death and see your parents - but you can't remember their faces. Will you be able to recognize them then? It's always possible, parents always remember what he looks like - thinking of this, tears overflowed from his sunken eyes, and the dirt on his face was washed away into black grooves.
Maybe it's better to die? However, a spasm in his stomach made him wake up again. He rubbed his eyes hard and read loudly: No matter what, if you want to die, you have to eat a full meal before you die - kill the demon and have a full meal!
A burst of virtual fire aroused his vitality again. He recited the unexplained "scripture" loudly and continued to walk forward.
At this time, there was a sudden commotion, and someone was shouting: "The saint has spread her blessings! The saint has spread her blessings!"
Three times a day, the Nan Buliang believers who were among the refugees used the method of spreading blessings of saints to distribute some grains and cereals. The quantity was not large, just to be able to gather the refugees.
A burst of music from drums, flutes and flutes came from far and near, accompanied by the thunderous sound of sutras and mantras. Sixteen big men in colorful clothes, half-naked, were carrying a shoulder chariot, on which stood a woman dressed in red and green - in Xiao Chuba's opinion, she looked like a fairy. It is covered with a red umbrella, surrounded by many hand-held flower baskets and girls wearing colorful clothes.
Many believers gathered around, chanting scriptures loudly. Wherever they passed, refugees gathered around like a tide, chanting mantras loudly, raising their withered arms high, praying for relief. "Fu" can fall into one's own hands.
From the chariot, grains and grains are constantly being scattered, and every time a batch falls, the crowd will stir up a violent wave, with people fighting, pushing, screaming, shouting, crying... The weak ones, He was pushed to the ground and trampled to death.
Xiao Chuba didn't know where he got the strength. He rushed towards the chariot crazily, chanting sutras and mantras, pushing past the crowd in front of him and squeezing towards the chariot. He shouted wildly and raised his hands, hoping to receive a steamed bun - ―It was precisely because of a steamed bun he received a few days ago that he managed to survive until now.
But he was unlucky today. By the time he squeezed to the front, the chariot had already passed. Xiao Chuba was burning with hunger. He saw a woman next to him hiding a bun in her arms in a panic. He took a step forward, reached out and grabbed the woman's arm and snatched it away.
The woman was willing to let go and tore with all her strength, but in the end she could not withstand Xiao Chuba's strength. Seeing that the nest was about to be taken away, she suddenly opened her mouth and bit Xiao Chuba's finger fiercely.
This bite immediately caused Xiao Chuba to feel pain in his heart and lungs. However, he couldn't get away at all. Xiao Chuba kicked the woman hard on the chest. The woman screamed and fell to the ground. She was immediately trampled under her feet. She screamed a few times and stopped moving. . Xiao Chuba's fingers were in severe pain, and when he looked again, a section of his fingers was missing. Donating blood dyes the steamed buns red.
