The rope always snaps at its thinnest point

Yang Ge had thought the bitter consequences of the repeated grain price hikes would only begin to show after the New Year.

But he had clearly underestimated those scoundrels' sense of timing.

And he had far overestimated the ability of Great Wei's common people to withstand hardship.

Almost the very next day after the price of barley broke past a hundred copper coins per dou.

Luting County filled with beggars.

They went door to door along the snow-covered streets, begging for scraps left over from the householders' meals to fill their bellies.

But with grain prices soaring like this, what household wasn't tightening its belt? Who had spare leftovers to give them?

Besides, no one knew when these hard times would end...

And from that day onward, the Welcome Inn never received another paying customer.

People still came to the door often enough, but they came either to borrow grain or to beg.

Shopkeeper Liu was a kindhearted man. Though he knew no customers would come at a time like this, he still insisted on opening early every morning and cooking a large pot of millet porridge, giving a bowl to anyone who came begging.

Nor could he ever bring himself to turn away anyone asking to borrow grain. He would sigh deeply and say, "Times are hard for everyone," then send Yang Ge to fetch two jin of grain from the kitchen and personally hand it over, his heart full of guilt.

The grain they had bought at inflated prices a few days earlier was given away without earning them a single copper coin.

Yet neighbors kept coming to borrow grain in an endless stream, as though everyone instinctively assumed that an inn, being in the food business, must have stockpiled plenty.

Only Yang Ge knew that the batch of grain brought back to the inn a few days earlier was already gone.

Even the two sacks of grain he had secretly brought over from his own home were nearly empty.

Sure enough, Yang Ge had just sent off another group of beggars when Wang Dezhu, who usually supplied the inn with firewood, came to the door.

This sturdy man, who could carry seventy or eighty jin of firewood over twenty-odd li of forested mountain trails, had been driven to the verge of tears. "Old shopkeeper, I truly have nowhere left to turn. I've been through every village for miles around, but I can't find any grain I can afford. You know how things are with my family..."

Shopkeeper Liu clasped both his hands tightly and replied, his eyes reddening, "I know, I know. You're a proud man. You wouldn't have come asking unless you had no other choice... lad, hurry to the back courtyard and fetch ten jin of grain for your Uncle Wang!"

Yang Ge pressed his lips together hard, unable either to turn away or to stay where he was.

After hesitating for several moments, he forced a smile and said, "Uncle Wang, the woodpile in the back courtyard collapsed. We can't get into the kitchen right now. Why don't you go home first? I'll bring it over to you later."

Those few short sentences were painfully difficult to say, as though every word pricked his mouth.

Wang Dezhu often brought firewood to the inn, and they knew each other well.

In the past, whenever he came, he would often bring Yang Ge little things from the mountains and forests, teasing him as though he were a child.

Sometimes it was a small packet of wild fruit, sometimes a few birds' eggs. He had even made him grass grasshoppers and wooden spinning tops...

But there wasn't enough grain left in the back courtyard to make up ten jin.

Wang Dezhu glanced at Yang Ge, and his already dark cheeks flushed so red they looked ready to bleed. He struggled to muster a smile and stiffly shook Shopkeeper Liu's hand. "I've come at a bad time. Sorry for the trouble, old shopkeeper. I'll be going now. I'll try somewhere else."

With that, he let go of Shopkeeper Liu's hands and made to leave.

Shopkeeper Liu caught hold of him, then turned and, in a rare fit of anger, snapped at Yang Ge. "Yang Ge, what's wrong with you? When I tell you to go, go! What's all this talk for?"

Wang Dezhu hurriedly waved his free hand. "Don't be angry, don't be angry. The lad's only looking out for you and the inn. It's all right. No one's got it easy..."

Shopkeeper Liu held him fast, refusing to let him leave, and glared at Yang Ge. "What are you standing there for? Go!"

Yang Ge wrestled with his dilemma for a few seconds before finally saying helplessly, "Shopkeeper, the grain out back ran out long ago. Even the hundred jin I brought from home has all been lent out."

He hadn't wanted to mention it.

But if he didn't, there would be no stopping Shopkeeper Liu!

The inn had no grain left, but Shopkeeper Liu had trusted his earlier advice and stocked some at home. If the old man kept giving it away like this, how would his own family get by?

Shopkeeper Liu and Wang Dezhu both froze.

Only after several moments did Shopkeeper Liu heave a sigh. "Look at you, with those skinny arms and legs. What did you have to join in for?"

Yang Ge smiled. "Your home is in Road Pavilion. So is mine."

At that, Shopkeeper Liu gave him a look of mingled pride and helplessness, then turned and pulled the bewildered Wang Dezhu outside. "Come on, come home with me. I still have some there. One way or another, we have to make it through the New Year..."

Yang Ge watched the two men leave, tugging back and forth, and couldn't help wondering whether the bigger a business grew, the less conscience its owners had.

Many of the shopkeepers doing business along this street had been acting just like Shopkeeper Liu these past few days, helping the beggars who came to their doors as much as they could.

And then there were the three major grain firms driving up prices. May their sons be born without XX, the fucking bastards!

"They say poverty breeds cunning, and wealth nurtures a conscience."

He slapped his thigh indignantly. "I say honor is found more often among dog butchers, and betrayal among scholars! Once the heart rots, the more knowledge you have, the more reactionary you become!"

Just then, a mother and daughter appeared outside the inn. Shrinking timidly, the mother asked in a small voice, "Shopkeeper, could you spare a bowl of cold rice? My little girl hasn't had a drop of water or a grain of rice in two days..."

Yang Ge looked at the mother's sallow face and weak, feeble breathing, then at the little girl, whose face was blue with cold and who could barely stay on her feet.

Though he had already seen many beggars like them over the past few days, his chest still tightened until he could hardly breathe.

He tried to make his smile gentler. "Ma'am, come in and rest a while. I'll have a look in the kitchen and see what there is to eat. I'll get something for you and your daughter."

As though she had caught hold of a life-saving straw, the mother burst into tears and pressed the little girl in her arms down with her to kneel in the snow. "We both thank you for your great kindness, shopkeeper!"

Yang Ge hurried outside and pulled them up from the snow. "Please, I don't deserve that! You'll shorten my life, bowing to me like this!"

The mother shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "We truly have no other way. Her father worked himself to death hauling boats in the middle of the year. A woman like me could work from dawn till dark and still only fill her belly with water. When grain prices rose, her grandmother stopped eating and passed away. Our home fell apart..."

Those few short sentences shattered Yang Ge's defenses.

His nose stung, and tears kept welling up. He quickly turned his face away from the mother and daughter and simply led them into the inn, unconsciously saying things he didn't even believe himself. "Don't lose heart, don't lose heart. Things will get better. As long as you're alive, there's hope. There's a future!"

After seating them at a table, he wiped his hands and hurried into the kitchen.

When he emerged carrying two steaming bowls of millet porridge, Shopkeeper Liu had already returned and was comforting the little girl, his eyes red.

Seeing him bring out the porridge, the mother and daughter quickly stood and reached out with both hands to take it.

"Eat slowly," Yang Ge said. "There's more in the pot."

"Thank you, shopkeeper. Thank you, old shopkeeper. You've saved both our lives..."

Together, Yang Ge and Shopkeeper Liu soothed the mother and daughter and had them sit down and eat without worry.

Turning back, Yang Ge asked Shopkeeper Liu quietly, "How much more grain did you lend Uncle Wang?"

"Three dou," Shopkeeper Liu said. "There are six mouths in his family. That'll probably only be enough to see them through to the end of the year."

Yang Ge had known it. Once the old man took Wang Dezhu home, he certainly wouldn't give him just ten jin of grain.

He tried to hold back, but finally couldn't help saying, "Take it easy, old man. We still don't know what's coming!"

The old man sighed and waved a hand. "What else can we do? We help as much as we can. We can't just stand by and watch them starve to death, can we?"

Yang Ge turned to look at the mother and daughter behind him. They cradled the scalding millet porridge and took tiny sips, yet there was still little life in their eyes.

Could they really survive? Did they have hope, a future?

As the saying went, the rope always snaps at its thinnest point, and misfortune seeks out those with the bitterest lives.

They were the rope's thinnest point, and theirs were bitter lives.

So they would be the first to break...

But if grain prices kept rising like this, even a slightly thicker strand of rope, like the Liu family, might not hold.

Once the broken windows effect took hold, putting on the brakes would be even harder!

Help as much as we can?

Yang Ge murmured those words deep in his heart.

There won't be any more tonight. I've been staying up far too late lately, and I'm feeling unwell again. I need to take it easy...