Conscription

At noon, the millet porridge mixed with bran was ready. It was so thin one could see their reflection in it, but at least it was hot food.

Liu Wanwan carefully ladled out the meal.

Out of habit, she first scooped Fang Yuan a bowl from the bottom of the pot, where it was slightly thicker. Her own bowl and her sister's were almost entirely clear broth.

Just as she was about to carry it over, Fang Yuan spoke. "Ladle it all out. We'll eat together."

Liu Wanwan's hand froze in midair as she looked at Fang Yuan in disbelief.

In the past, whenever the family had anything remotely good to eat, it had all gone first to Fang Yuan, the "scholar." She and her sister were lucky to get a few scraps.

"Husband... this..." she hesitated, not daring to move.

"Ladle it out." Fang Yuan's tone brooked no argument, carrying a steadiness she had never heard from him before.

Liu Wanwan bit her lower lip, but in the end, she did as he said and divided the pitiful amount of porridge into three portions.

Fang Yuan had a large bowl before him, while she and her sister each had a small bowl, still nothing but thin broth.

The dining table was really just a battered low wooden stump, and the atmosphere was oppressively silent.

Liu Wanwan and her sister held their bowls and drank in tiny sips. They barely dared make a sound, much less pick at the scant few grains of millet in their bowls.

Fang Yuan picked up his bowl and, without a word, poured more than half its contents into his sister's bowl, then gave Liu Wanwan another large portion.

"Eat!" He said only one word.

Looking at her suddenly fuller bowl, his sister's little face first went blank, then panicked.

She raised her head and asked timidly, her voice trembling with tears, "B-Brother, can... can I really eat it?"

Life had always been tight, especially this year with the terrible drought. The fields had yielded almost nothing, and going hungry was commonplace.

She had never had the chance to eat her fill, much less have her brother give her his food.

Liu Wanwan also held her bowl helplessly, her eyes beginning to redden again.

"You can eat. There'll be food from now on."

Fang Yuan's voice was stiff. He no longer looked at them, lowering his head to quickly shovel the little porridge remaining in his bowl into his mouth.

After several bowls of thin porridge went down, their empty stomachs finally had something in them, easing that burning hunger somewhat. But they were still far from full.

Setting down his bowl, he did not even pause to catch his breath before grabbing the chopping knife from the corner.

His body was still exhausted, yet the faint surge of blood and vitality that stirred with every swing kept him from stopping.

The whistle of the blade cutting through the air sounded through the room once more.

Liu Wanwan and her sister silently cleared the bowls and chopsticks. Watching Fang Yuan sweat as he swung the knife, they did not dare disturb him, though the worry in their eyes deepened.

Just then, a woman's slightly hoarse shout came from outside the courtyard.

"Madam Fang! Madam Fang, are you there? It's time to head to the river. Master Chen's family is urging us today!"

It was Old Madam Chen from next door.

Liu Wanwan hurriedly wiped her hands, strode to the door, and opened it a crack. In a low voice, she said, "Old Madam Chen, I... I'm not going today. At home... Fang Yuan still isn't feeling well, so I need to watch over him..."

Hearing this, Old Madam Chen craned her head to peer inside. She happened to see Fang Yuan bare-chested, swinging his chopping knife with a fierce look on his face.

Something about that sight was clearly wrong.

Understanding and sympathy appeared on her face, and she sighed. "Ah... all right, then. Take good care of him. What a misfortune..."

She had clearly heard that Fang Yuan had been stripped of his scholarly title.

Fang Family Village was not small, but neither was it very large. Any stirring of the wind or rustling of grass spread through it, especially a scandal involving a scholar—it traveled faster than the wind.

After a pause, the worry on her face deepened. She lowered her voice. "Wanwan, it's better if you don't go... I just came back from the village entrance. They've put up another notice there! They're conscripting soldiers!"

"So soon?" Liu Wanwan's voice suddenly shook. "In past years, wasn't it always after the coldest days of winter...?"

Old Madam Chen still looked frightened, and her voice dropped even lower. "I heard Hanshan Commandery, right next to ours, has fallen into chaos! A great many people have died. The government troops can't suppress it, so Wushui Commandery has to conscript men too, to plug the hole!

This turmoil... I'm afraid it'll spread here very soon!"

Inside the room, Fang Yuan's knife swing paused slightly as his ears caught the conversation outside.

Hanshan Commandery bordered Wushui Commandery. If chaos had broken out there, Wushui Commandery truly could not remain untouched.

This conscription had come earlier—and more urgently—than he had expected!

Old Madam Chen sighed miserably. "Ah, they say even only sons will be conscripted this time! That old bastard of mine is probably on the list too! How are we supposed to live...?"

Her despairing voice gradually faded into the distance.

Liu Wanwan shut the door in a daze, leaning against the icy door panel, her face white as paper.

Every word of the conversation outside had reached Fang Yuan's ears.

Rebellion in Hanshan Commandery... conscription... even only sons taken...

In the past, county conscription was mostly for suppressing bandits who had claimed mountains as their own, or filling vacancies in the border camps.

The strong young men taken away would receive a few hasty months of training in camp, and relying on their superior numbers, they could usually manage.

But this time was different. This was putting down a rebellion! This was a battlefield of real blades and real blood, where it was kill or be killed!

Fang Yuan had once heard old veterans who had served in the border army speak of the true elites in the military, especially those who could become Centurions.

Every one of them was a martial artist who had trained to some accomplishment, strong enough to split stone and crack steles, slaughtering their way through enemies like tigers charging into a flock of sheep.

As for these farmer boys urgently drafted into service, they were merely cannon fodder meant to fill the battle lines and wear down the enemy's strength.

Those were the true elites. The soldiers conscripted through corvée service would only be expendable goods!

The army's rations, pay, and equipment would always go first to those elites. Why would they waste them on people like these, dragged in at the last minute?

After shutting the door, Liu Wanwan turned around, her face frighteningly pale. Her gaze drifted involuntarily toward Fang Yuan, filled with a terror unlike any she had felt before.

No matter how hard life had been before, Fang Yuan at least had his scholarly title as a tongsheng, which exempted him from corvée labor and Military Service. It had been the family's last fragile barrier.

But now...

Fang Yuan also lowered his head instinctively and looked over this body.

Weak and thin, every rib visible, with unhealed internal injuries in his chest.

With a frame like this, let alone fighting on a battlefield, even carrying supplies on a forced march to the front could cost him half his life.

Going meant a dead end—a wholly worthless death.

He absolutely could not go!

His gaze instantly sharpened.

That left only one way—money!

The Great Yin Statutes expressly stipulated that eligible adult men could pay a substantial sum of "Substitute service silver" to be exempted from Military Service.

This had once been an option Fang Yuan would never have considered. The family was so poor it rattled when it walked—where could they find spare money?

But now, it was their only path to survival.

But where would the money come from?

His gaze unconsciously turned toward the window, passing over the low earthen wall.

He looked toward the vast range of rolling mountains behind the village, which seemed ever more desolate and silent beneath the gray-white winter sky.

Great Green Mountain.

It was a massive mountain range stretching across Wushui Commandery and several surrounding commanderies. Its mountains were high and forests dense, and legends said vicious beasts roamed its depths. Even ordinary hunters did not dare venture too far inside.

There was no question that it was dangerous.

But right now, it seemed to be the only hope. The mountains contained valuable furs and medicinal herbs, as well as meat that could replenish his blood and vitality and sustain his martial training!

The risks were enormous, but compared to going to the front as cannon fodder, braving the deep forest offered a sliver of life.

He drew a breath of icy air. The blood and vitality in his chest, stirred by his knife swings, seemed to begin churning restlessly again.

"Wanwan," he suddenly said, his voice calm but carrying an unshakable resolve, "sharpen the firewood axe at home for me."

Liu Wanwan was still immersed in the fear brought by the Military Service. At his words, she froze, looking at him in astonishment.

"Husband, you... what do you need an axe for?"

Fang Yuan did not answer. He merely looked once more at the silent, dangerous mountain range beyond the window, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through wind and snow.