Driven to Rebellion

The crowd erupted. It was inevitable.

They had been fleeing for many days, passing through countless counties and cities, but none had taken them in. Some had not even allowed them to enter the county seats. Such a vast number of refugees was a crushing burden for any county or city.

What's more, the drought had covered an enormous area. These counties and cities had suffered as well, and their own people were already more than they could handle. How could they possibly look after the refugees?

At most, they would hand out porridge for two or three days, then send soldiers to drive them away, forcing them to move on again and again.

But by now, these refugees had run out of provisions and were at the end of their rope. If they kept going like this, they would surely die.

At long last, they had received reliable news in Yanping City: the imperial court's relief grain had arrived, and it was right here in True Martial County.

They had come here full of hope. And now they were being told they weren't allowed into True Martial County?

How could they not erupt in uproar?

"Come on! Let's all go and see whether these officials are going to help us or not! If they really won't, then we've nothing more to discuss—we'll just rebel! All we want is to survive. What have we done wrong?!"

"Right! If they won't give us food, then we'll rebel!"

"Rebel!!!"

For a moment, the crowd was seething with indignation.

The pressure of being on the brink of life and death for so long finally erupted.

This band of refugees, starved to the limit, had been driven to the very edge of rebellion.

Under Great Yu law, rebellion meant the extermination of nine generations.

But who cared about nine generations... What about ten?

They were all going to starve to death!

Who had time to worry about that?

Qin Fang followed among the refugees, his eyes dark and his lips sealed, as he went along with them.

True Martial County was an unremarkable county town in Funan Prefecture.

Though it was little-known, it was nestled between mountains and water, with lovely scenery.

The town had been built against a mountain. Its gates towered high, and at this moment they were firmly shut. On top of the walls, a line of armored soldiers stood in formation, fully prepared to defend against a siege, with bows and crossbows at the ready and sharp eyes scanning the area.

A vast crowd of ragged refugees had gathered outside the city, a sea of people numbering at least tens of thousands, with more continuing to arrive. Even the armored soldiers felt the weight of their numbers, each of them wound tight with tension.

"Open the gates! Let us in!"

"We're people of Great Yu too! What right do you have to keep us out?!"

"Open the gates! Open the gates!"

"We want food! We want to live!!!"

The refugees shouted in anguish.

Inside the city, night had not yet fallen, but every household had already shut its doors and windows. Some people peered outside through their window lattices, keeping watch.

"What are we going to do? I heard the refugees have surrounded the city. If they break through the gates... th-then what will we do?!"

The people inside the city were deeply worried too.

As the saying went, refugees were no better than bandits!

When faced with a vast crowd of refugees, one mistake in handling the situation could bring a calamity of epic proportions.

All of True Martial County would suffer!

While the people inside and outside the city fretted, Yang Zhenwu, the magistrate of True Martial County, paced along the walls in his crimson official robes, his face dark with anger. The noise outside kept growing, and he could hear shouts of "Rebel! Rebel!"—words of the utmost treason. Sweat poured faster from his brow.

He stopped abruptly and roared, "Haven't they arrived yet?!"

His secretary, Lai Lang, wiped the sweat from his forehead and hurriedly replied, "I've already sent someone. We should hear back soon..."

"Damn it! Send someone to hurry them along! I don't care what they have to do, but they must get a load of grain here today! If True Martial County falls, do they think they'll escape unscathed?!"

Yang Zhenwu brought his hand down in fury. With a crash, he smashed a chunk of the stone battlement beside him to pieces with his bare hand!

Everyone present was as silent as cicadas in autumn, not daring to speak.

Yang Zhenwu knew his official career was over.

He might even lose his life.

The reason was...

The relief grain.

True Martial County was nestled between mountains and water, and that water was the Chuan River.

With its extensive waterways and easy transportation, the imperial court had chosen this place as a relief center.

Three days ago, one hundred thousand shi of relief grain from the imperial court had arrived in True Martial County by way of the Chuan River.

All he had needed to do was wait for the refugees to arrive, open the granaries, distribute the grain, and then slowly find places for them to settle...

Those who needed to return to their native homes would be sent back, while those who could be settled locally would be settled locally...

It would certainly be troublesome, but as long as he handled it properly, it would be a tremendous achievement. Once it was all over, he might even be promoted.

But disaster had struck two days ago...

In the middle of the night, a sudden fire had swept without warning through the granary where the relief grain was stored. Every soldier guarding it had been killed, and all the grain had been doused in lamp oil.

Black-clad men had also taken advantage of the night to kill people and hinder the firefighting...

The blaze had burned for a full day and night.

One hundred thousand shi of relief grain had gone up in smoke.

Yang Zhenwu had not closed his eyes since the night before last.

He knew he was finished.

One hundred thousand shi of relief grain—how could that be called mere grain?

It was the lives of tens of thousands of refugees!

And those tens of thousands of refugees were an unstable force capable of overthrowing an entire prefecture!

If they truly rebelled,

then he, the county magistrate who had "driven honest people to rebellion," would be the first to bear the brunt!

The first thing the forces sent to suppress the rebellion might do was kill him in front of the refugees to appease their fury!

Never mind that everything was in utter chaos and the culprit behind it all had yet to be found.

Even if they found the culprit... he still couldn't escape the charge of dereliction of duty.

With consequences this severe, the best ending he could hope for after such dereliction would be a single stroke of the executioner's blade come autumn!

So for Yang Zhenwu, only one thing mattered now...

Keep the situation under control!

No matter what, he could not let the refugees rebel.

As long as the refugees didn't rebel, there was still a sliver of hope.

Otherwise...

Thinking of his family, Yang Zhenwu's face grew even darker, his fists clenching with a crackle!

...If he found out who was behind this, he would risk his life to tear them limb from limb!

As he burned with rage, a flurry of hurried footsteps sounded, followed by an excited cry: "My lord, the grain is here!"

Yang Zhenwu's eyes lit up. He hurried to one side of the gate and looked out. Sure enough, a long, seemingly endless convoy of grain carts was making its way toward the city gates from within the county town, torches in hand.

The carts were driven by burly men, and each bore a different banner, making it clear that they came from different factions.

"Master Yang, True Martial Fist Hall has come to deliver grain as ordered!"

A man in his thirties smiled, cupped his hands, and called out to Yang Zhenwu on the wall.

"Spring Return Hall has come to deliver grain as ordered."

A lean old man in his sixties cupped his hands and spoke.

"Four Seasons Boxing Hall has come to deliver grain!"

"True Martial Hall has come to deliver grain!"

"The Long Family has come to deliver grain..."

One voice after another rang out.

Yang Zhenwu saw the scene and let out a long breath of relief. His spirits lifted, and he cupped his hands in earnest. "On behalf of the people outside the city, I thank you all for your generosity! There's no need to say more for now. We'll speak again another day."

Then he turned and gave the order: "Open the gates and distribute the grain!"

When Qin Fang and the refugees, their passions aflame, arrived at the city gates, they saw several thousand armored soldiers standing in formation on either side, fully equipped with bows and crossbows.

Countless torches lit up the broad space before the city gates, leaving nothing hidden from view.

Dozens of bonfires were already burning, and dozens of huge pots bubbled away, sending out waves of fragrant rice.

Cart after cart of grain was being brought out of the city and piled up by the gates.

"Everyone will get some, but you must obey the rules! Don't push! Anyone who pushes will be driven away!"

A soldier shouted loudly to keep order.

"Once you've eaten, report to the officials at the city gates. The magistrate will make arrangements for you!"

The refugees, hungry enough for their eyes to glow green, smelled the rice and swallowed again and again. Some couldn't help rushing forward.

A soldier swung his scabbard hard and smashed it against one man's head.

The man didn't even groan. He toppled straight to the ground, blood immediately streaming from his head!

The refugees behind him shrank back in fright.

The soldier in charge of keeping order had a cold expression. "Everyone line up and follow the rules! Otherwise, nobody gets to eat! Anyone who breaks the rules shouldn't blame us for showing no mercy! Drag him away!"

At that, he gestured to two soldiers, who dragged away the refugee whose head had been smashed open and who lay bleeding, his fate unknown.

In troubled times, harsh laws were needed.

This was exactly the time to use them.

That blow had been enough to establish their authority. The other refugees obediently quieted down, swallowing their saliva one after another, but no matter how unbearable the wait, they didn't dare make trouble again...

Before, no grain had been given out, and they had been left with no way to survive. Naturally, they had been swept up in fervor, shouting about rebellion... They had been driven to it by desperation.

But now that grain was being distributed, they could see a way to live.

And the officials beside them were standing ready with real swords and guns... That single blow had knocked most of the fight out of them.

After all, they knew the old saying: ordinary people didn't fight the authorities.

If there was a way to survive, who would rebel for no reason?

Qin Fang stared at the scene in a daze... Hadn't they said they wouldn't distribute grain?

But he quickly pushed the thought aside and hurried to join the back of the line. Smelling the long-missed fragrance of rice, his stomach rumbled even louder, and the hunger hurt all the more.

Still, compared with the other refugees, his stomach's growling was nothing...

Everyone's stomachs were rumbling furiously.

They waited, suffering through the hunger.

"What's going on? Where did that grain come from?"

A questioning voice drifted faintly into his ears.

Qin Fang turned his head instinctively.