Chapter 405
Grandma Tang watched what was happening in front of her, stood up, and walked toward the other side too.
One, two, three...
Earlier, everyone had cursed them.
Cursing outside occasionally got them beaten, so they stopped saying it aloud. But not saying it didn't mean they agreed with it. In their hearts, they still didn't approve of the higher-ups conscripting young women and gers into the army.
They truly didn't understand what the prefect was thinking.
Everything the prefect had done since arriving was genuinely good. But this one thing made them harbor so much resentment. They used his chemical fertilizer while cursing him as muddle-headed and confused, saying he'd started this trend and made all the children in their families restless.
Fighting wars—could young women and gers do that?
Conscripted—could they go to the battlefield or what?
Were they there to entertain the new soldiers? That was the most vicious thought.
Now, after what happened, no one thought that way anymore.
Just now, when the young women and gers applied medicine to them, they were careful beyond careful, comforting them with words while busily working with their hands. Could a man have that kind of patience?
Heavy-handed and clumsy, with no sense of care—if men had applied the medicine, the wounded might have cried out in pain, and the men would have cursed back: "Scream, scream, scream! I've been picking earwax for half my life and it's about to fly out from your screaming. Scream again and I'll give you a slap."
It was the young women and gers who were more careful.
They hadn't understood before why the prefect did things this way, but now they vaguely understood.
What were they conscripted for?
Did that even need asking?
Without these people, who would be bandaging them right now? Who would be brewing medicine for them?
Feed soldiers for a thousand days to use them for one hour.
When they were cold and hungry, helpless and shivering, and these people burst into their view—all the incomprehension, all the disapproval, crumbled in that moment.
The common folk went from opposition, disgust, and disdain at the beginning to now having only guilt, respect, and gratitude.
When the prefect was conscripting, he said these young women and gers were Da Xia's soldiers, the people's soldiers, serving the common folk, protecting the common folk. If anything happened in the future, they would be the ones charging to the front lines. So the common folk should respect and honor them.
But had they honored them? No. On the contrary, they had cursed them.
Now at this critical moment, their hearts were truly full of regret. They shouldn't have said those things. They truly shouldn't have.
Some of the women had complicated emotions. Their hearts were full of guilt, but watching these young women and gers rushing about among the wounded, busily tending to everything, faintly, they also felt proud.
Liu Ger and the several young women nearby who were caring for the wounded also couldn't put into words what they were feeling. They were speechless, not knowing what to say.
By the time they came to their senses, tears were already streaming down their faces without them realizing.
It had truly been bitter before! Those pointing fingers and whispers—they hadn't heard them in the training grounds, but on rest days when they went into town to buy personal items, passing by the small teahouses, they often heard the common folk using them as after-meal gossip, cursing them endlessly. Of course, some praised them too, but those voices were few after all.
Every time they heard it, their hearts ached. Gossip and rumors sometimes hurt more than a sharp blade.
They weren't without their own grievances!
But now, there was no need for kneeling, no need for other words of gratitude. Seeing the gratitude on the common people's faces felt like warm spring water flowing into their cold bodies. A single "I'm sorry" already gave them great comfort.
Everything was worth it.
Nothing made people happier than receiving recognition and support.
Grandma Tang came over and also kowtowed to them, apologizing through her tears.
Physician Li watched this scene silently from outside. Seeing them receive approval and acceptance, he too felt happy for these young women and gers.
Young Fang was right after all. Talking doesn't prove whether something works or not — time will prove everything.
For a good person to become a Buddha, they must endure eighty-one trials. But a bad person only needs to put down the butcher's knife to become a Buddha on the spot.
Breaking down prejudice was the same.
Guaizai bought oilcloth for the village, then without stopping went to town to buy two cartloads of blankets to send over to Anbei Village.
Once the rear was settled, Guaizai ran to the front again to poach people from Fang Zichen without a moment's rest. He was soaked all over, his little topknot so wet it wouldn't stand up.
At this moment, Fang Zichen had crawled into a collapse site to rescue someone. When he came out, he saw Guaizai carefully examining a young man who had just been dug out, confirming the person had no fractures and could be moved, before quickly lifting him up and running toward the straw shed: "Physician Li, help! Come quick!"
The several new soldiers nearby watched with their mouths agape.
Fang Zichen: "..."
If this were modern times, his son could probably make the weightlifting team.
Four steamed buns and a chicken every day—it really wasn't for nothing!
Night fell, and the rain stopped.
The common folk's voices encouraging each other rose and fell. The emergency fires lit by the rescue soldiers were the only light in the darkness.
This kind of rescue also required skill. At a time like this, it was best to have professional firefighters, but Da Xia had no firefighters, and Fang Zichen didn't understand these things either. Before digging, he confirmed and reconfirmed, digging with extreme care, afraid that the person underneath might have been fine, but their digging would cause a collapse, and then they wouldn't be rescuers but killers.
Because of this, progress was naturally slow.
But a person can only survive seven days without food or water. Two days had already passed since they were buried. At this point, time was life. No one could rest at night either.
They dug without sleep or rest. After only two days, Fang Zichen was trembling when he walked. He felt that going on like this might not work.
Soldiers weren't made of iron either.
And they were still braving the rain! They still needed rest. Not to mention sleeping eight hours—at least they had to doze for a shichen (2 hours) or so. They'd take shifts.
Guaizai had been assisting Fang Zichen and hadn't closed his eyes for two days either.
Sound travels faster through solid ground than through air. At that moment, he knocked on a large rock nearby and shouted with all his might: "Is anyone there? Is anyone there?"
Fang Zichen didn't hear anyone respond.
Then there should be no one here. He was about to move forward when Guaizai called out to stop him.
"Father." Guaizai stuck out his round little bottom, lying on the ground, ear pressed to it: "Father, Father, there seems to be someone down here."
"Is that so?"
"Mm! Guaizai just heard something."
"Then dig."
Fang Zichen and several soldiers dug away all the trees and mud on the upper layer before they finally heard a faint cry for help.
It sounded like a child.
This place was too close to the foot of the mountain. The top was full of large rocks. They could only dig a hole from the side to get down. But just as the hole was opened, Fang Zichen immediately called for a stop.
He saw the situation below. Though it was somewhat dark inside, he could roughly make out two roof beams propping things up, with a large rock on top, forming a small space. The beams looked like they were already cracking, ready to collapse at any moment.
If they dug further, the more empty space below, the more pressure on the beams... The child was right under those two beams.
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