The walls outside the yamen were covered with drawings.
There were corpses abandoned by the roadside, rotting and covered in flies. There were people holding children, sitting under trees, their eyes full of bewilderment and helplessness.
There were villages that had met disaster, burned to ruins.
There were men lying on the ground being savagely cut down by enemy soldiers, the enemy surrounding them laughing—but now, in the eyes of the common people around, those faces looked as hideous as demons from hell.
There were women bound at the hands, subjected to abuse.
Xiao Feng was a skilled artist—his drawings were nearly lifelike. He had drawn everything he had seen in Jizhou, picture after picture, posted outside the yamen. All were bloody and raw—the enemy's cruelty toward the people of Da Xia was beyond compare — so brutal it was unbearable to look upon.
"This is..."
No one could speak.
Even a hell on earth was no worse than this.
The common people had only known that war meant death and danger—that if the defense failed and the enemy broke through, the people would suffer and be displaced. But beyond that, they hadn't known.
Now they were all utterly horrified.
A man clenched his fists: "Beasts! Beasts! How could they do this!"
"That child was so small—how could anyone bring themselves to do it!"
"Is this real?"
"It should be." A woman said, eyes red: "I went to deliver vegetables to the refugees earlier and chatted with the people there a few times. They said that on the way fleeing here, many people died, that corpses lined the roads. They also said when the enemy charged into the villages, they cut down anyone they saw. I didn't believe it—aren't enemy soldiers also human? How could they cut down anyone they see? I thought... she was lying to me."
In the village, when people had conflicts, the most was a war of words. When truly furious, they'd at most think about punching someone twice.
Human hearts are made of flesh — even if two families were feuding, seeing someone's child, the most they'd do was mutter a few words or give the child a couple of swats on the bottom. Nothing more.
After all, young children are innocent.
Putting themselves in others' shoes, they figured enemy soldiers couldn't be that bad. The refugees saying such things were probably just seeking sympathy.
The Da Liang army had invaded once before, and people had heard they killed their way through — but everyone assumed they only killed those who resisted...
But now—how could anyone do such things?
They were complete beasts.
"No wonder—last time my son went to Jizhou with the prefect, he must have seen something. I tried to stop him from going, but he insisted, wouldn't listen no matter what, and said the Da Liang people deserved to die, cursed them for not being human, crying while he said it. I was still puzzled about what was wrong with him."
No one doubted what was posted outside the yamen.
After all, the drawings were so realistic. And now a huge wave of refugees had poured into Hezhou—if it weren't truly unbearable, truly impossible to survive, no one would choose to leave their homeland.
With so many refugees, the situation in Jizhou must be dire.
"I heard several towns and cities in Jizhou have fallen. The Northwest Army keeps losing. When will it be our turn?"
At these words, everyone panicked.
"I heard from the refugees that they first went to Qinzhou, but Qinzhou wouldn't let them in. It was our prefect who kindly took them in, and even used his own silver to buy them grain. The grain sent by the imperial court hasn't arrived yet."
"What are you trying to say?"
"If the Northwest Army can't hold, won't we have to flee too? Will there be officials like Lord Fang out there? Will they let us in? Waiting for imperial relief—how long will that take? A month? Two months? Can we even wait that long? My father's legs are bad—he can't walk..."
Everyone fell silent.
"Someone has to step up." Someone held their head and said in anguish: "The lord has gone. Isn't he afraid of dying? But someone has to go! If no one goes, what happens to us?"
Yes!
Was the prefect not afraid of death?
The wealthier a person, the more they cherish their life.
But the prefect had gone.
"My son came back yesterday and said Lord Fang told them—soldiers exist to protect home and people. Now Da Xia needs them, and they cannot be stopped from going. We Da Xia people are all one family. We cannot let outsiders insult our brothers and sisters like this. I wouldn't allow it—I only have two sons. If they're gone, who will I rely on in old age? But I didn't even know the outside world had already become like this."
If everyone refused to go, then who would?
When the enemy forces broke through, Jizhou's fate would be theirs. No one would escape then—and as for relying on sons in old age? If the enemy broke through, they'd die young — living to old age? Dream on.
"We have to drive these beasts out of Da Xia."
"Right, drive them out."
"When I get back, I'm going to sharpen my boy's blade. Cut down these beasts—they're not even human."
"Right, cut them down, cut them down."
"I'm going to ask Lord Fang if he still needs men. Damn it, I want to go cut down these beasts too."
"I'm going too. I've lived several decades—I'm not afraid to die. Treating the people of Da Xia like this—do they think Da Xia has no one? To let them insult us like this!"
Zhao Ger knew the situation was dire, and Fang Zichen couldn't make any guarantees either—the enemy could attack Hezhou at any moment. He had already given orders for the common folk to make preparations, but not to panic. They were to wait for his command. If the defense truly couldn't hold, he would give the order for them to evacuate. The people trusted Fang Zichen; otherwise, with Jizhou falling one after another, Hezhou would have descended into chaos long ago, and the common folk would likely have fled in panic.
But since the prefect hadn't given the word, fleeing wasn't an option.
This was their homeland. Their families had lived here for over a dozen generations, and they were reluctant to leave.
Zhao Ger was busy—things here were truly chaotic—so he discussed it with Fang Zichen and finally decided to send Gungun and Dandan south.
The two little ones didn't kick up a fuss. They kissed Fang Zichen, then kissed Zhao Ger and Guaizai, and said tearfully, "Father, Daddy, when you're done being busy, you have to come pick up Gungun and Dandan, okay?"
Zhao Ger stroked each of their faces in turn. "Okay. Daddy will come get you when he's done. When you get there, listen to Grandpa and Little Grandpa, don't be naughty, understand?"
Dandan nodded. "Yes, we'll be good."
Zhao Ger grunted in acknowledgment.
Gungun said in a milky voice, "If we're good, we get food. If we're not good, if we don't listen, we go hungry and get spanked on the bottom. Only good kids get love."
"Exactly." Fang Zichen laughed. "Gungun's ideological awareness is really high."
Gungun clenched his fists, eyes sparkling. "Absolutely!"
Guaizai helped load their little twist cars onto the carriage and kissed them both.
"Brother, we'll miss you!"
Guaizai sniffled. "Brother will miss you too."
The two little ones clung tightly to Guaizai, then looked at Zhao Ger. "Daddy, you have to come pick us up really soon."
Only after Fang Zichen and Zhao Ger nodded did they obediently follow Uncle Tang onto the carriage.
The moment the curtain fell, the two little ones burst into tears, big fat drops rolling down nonstop.
Now that they were leaving, there'd be no one to give Daddy kisses, no one to help Father eat the fatty meat, and no one to play with Brother.
Sigh!
With them gone, they didn't know if Father, Daddy and Brother would be able to get used to it. They really couldn't stop worrying!
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