In the middle of summer in the third year of Fuling, on May 25th, the blazing sun poured all its heat onto the world without reservation.

The rivers dried up, the vegetation withered, and the ancient roads were so bright that people dared not look directly at them.

Steam rose between heaven and earth, and the world seemed like a rotting, smelly, dry and collapsed corpse. At the entrance of Tongqiu Town, under the shade of an ancient willow tree, a Taoist priest in a Taoist robe said in a high-pitched voice:"The blue sky is dead, and the yellow sky should be established. The year is Jiazi, and the world is auspicious."

"Everyone, come and get Guanyin soil for free"

"Eat my Guanyin soil, enter my Huangtian Gate. Cultivate the fruit of immortality and live a carefree life in the world."

In the shade at the foot of the wall, dozens of refugees were lying in a mess.

An old monk in a tattered cassock squatted down, gently held the pale and stiff palm of an old man in his seventies, and muttered something.

A quarter of an hour later, the old monk stood up and whispered:"The old man's soul has been liberated by me, please do as you please."

Dozens of refugees struggled to get up and carried the old man's body to an alley not far away.

"One corpse disappears, ten lives are born."

The old monk put his hands together,"Amitabha, good, good."

In the southeast corner of the town stands a stone statue of the Dragon King, with a dragon head and a human body, wearing the crown of an emperor.

In front of the Dragon King statue, there is a three-legged bronze tripod, and the smoke from the incense in the tripod billows straight into the sky.

In front of the three-legged tripod, hundreds of people kowtow devoutly.

The grand vision turned into a strong wind, blowing the wheat waves up and down, the reality fluctuated in front of the eyes, and hope shouted in the distance. The doors and windows on the first floor of Yuelai Inn were closed, but the laughter of the gentry masters and sons of the second floor could be heard. A large group of ragged, dishevelled beggars came to the temple.

The eater, under the high window, held up a large white bowl with a chip and crack.

Perhaps he was disturbed by the beggar's buzzing like a fly, perhaps he felt a little sympathy, perhaps he felt a little playful.

A handsome young man in brocade clothes appeared at the window.

He raised the teapot in his hand and poured it downstairs.

A stream of warm tea fell down.

The beggar, who had been thirsty for a long time, opened his mouth like a nest of baby birds.

A faint smell of fishy smell wafted in the wind.

The little kid riding on the old ox pointed at the handsome young man.

"Sister, that's not tea, that's urine."

Cang Xue gently hit the kid's dangling legs,"Shut up!"

After a while, in the distance of the long bluestone street, Qu Yiqing, with two mandarin duck swords hanging from his waist and his waist bulging under his clothes, walked towards Cang Xue and Cang Yu at the entrance of the town. The mandarin duck swords were used by Yu Ji to dance with the king, but now they are used by women to intimidate villains.

The woman walked a short distance with fear.

Along the way, the eyes of the refugees were not like humans at all, they were even scarier than jackals, tigers and leopards.

Watching the stepmother pull out the grain bag wrapped around her waist and quickly stuff it into the pottery jar on the wooden cart.

Cang Xue couldn't help asking,"Mom, what's the price of millet?" Qu Yiqing sighed lightly and said,"Ten catties of meat in peacetime, one catty of millet in troubled times."

The girl couldn't help but widen her eyes.

A catty of pork in peacetime, when cheap, is about six or seven copper coins, when expensive, seventeen or eighteen

……

The oxcart creaked and slowly drove away from the town.

The little kid asked,"Mom, where are we going?"

Cang Xue also asked,"Mom, are we going south or north?"

On the ancient road, Qu Yiqing looked south, then north.

He looked east, west, south, and north for a long time.

The woman with her back to the two children seemed at a loss.

Go south to the capital of Wei, or go north to another country.

This is a question.

After pondering for a long time, the woman took out a copper coin from her sleeve.

Muttered,"The words are on the top, go south. The pattern is on the top, go north."

Tossed it lightly and dropped it quickly.

The woman looked closely and saw the pattern on the top.

"And... all the way north~"

……

On May 29, midsummer of the third year of Fuling, the mother and her two children passed by Weiqiao Village and met an old man named Xue Huai who was over 70 years old.

The old man had two children, several grandchildren, and more than ten great-grandchildren, all of whom fled.

Qu Yiqing asked the old man why he didn't follow his children and grandchildren to escape the famine.

The old man puffed on his pipe and smiled without saying a word. The old man was very kind and filled the mother and her two children's pottery jars with the last two buckets of water in the water cellar.

The water in the water cellar was hard to swallow, and the taste of loess filled the mouth, but the mother and her two children didn't dare to waste it. After resting for three days in Weiqiao Village, the mother and her two children continued on their way.

On the slow-moving ox cart, Cang Xue suddenly looked back.

But he saw the old man leaning on a cane and struggling to lie down on the ground.

The billowing steam was visible to the naked eye.

The old man stood in his own dry land.

Next to him was a shallow burial pit.

The hot wind blew up his white hair.

The old man knelt down slowly.

Then he leaned forward slowly and kissed the loess.

Finally, he crawled into the burial pit using his hands and feet.

At that moment, the earth swallowed the old man.

It was like a mother holding her child in her arms.

……

The third year of Fuling, the hottest and most difficult month of the year. On

June 17, the scorching sun seemed to be very close to the human world.

On the ancient road, the victims were like a dragon.

The head of the dragon was far away, but the tail was endless.

At noon, the sun was too scorching, and the dragon could not move forward, so they all hid under the shade of the trees to avoid the heat.

The little kid was lying on the wooden cart with his tongue hanging down.

Cang Xue added firewood to the bonfire from time to time.

Qu Yiqing tore the soft bark he found into strips and put it into boiling water.

The third year of Fuling, the second year of summer, June 25.

The vast number of victims was like a swarm of locusts passing through, almost stripping the bark on both sides of the ancient road.

There was a dull bang.

The old ox could no longer hold on, and the wooden cart and the old ox fell heavily to the ground, smashing the dust.

In just a moment, the crowd was in turmoil.

Countless refugees surrounded the old ox and his mother and three children.

The eyes that were empty and numb a few seconds ago suddenly became bloodshot.

Qu Yiqing grasped the hilt of the mandarin duck sword.

Then he let go of it dejectedly.

"This is my cow!"

The woman said sternly:"I only want one hind leg~"

The old ox had worked hard for the Cang family for more than ten years. The only thing the woman could do was to send it off with her own hands. It was really cut into pieces by the victims, which was tantamount to torture.

The mandarin duck sword saw blood for the first time.

The woman stabbed the sharp tip of the sword deeply into the neck of the old ox.

The little brat hugged Cang Xue, buried his little face in the girl's chest, and cried.

Cang Xue took a last look and saw that her stepmother's shoulders were trembling slightly.

The old ox, who had been looking at her stepmother, suddenly had two lines of tears in his eyes.

Immediately.

The wolves drowned the old ox and his stepmother.

……

July 11, the third year of Fuling.

Qu Yiqing was pulling a wooden cart, while Cangxue and Cangyu were pushing it.

In the blink of an eye, the sun was already high in the sky.

In the forest, under the shade of the trees, the exhausted Qu Yiqing fell asleep.

""Sister, I'm hungry."

The little brat lifted up his linen shirt, his stomach was deeply sunken, and his ribs were clearly visible.

Cang Xue took out a pottery jar from the opera box, which contained Guanyin clay.

"Eat less, remember, don't drink water"

"Soil turns into mud when it meets water, and if it sticks to the intestines and can't be pulled out, it will burst the stomach."

Cang Xue handed the pottery jar out.

"I know, sister.

The little brat grabbed a handful of the gray-white soil and stuffed it into his mouth.

On July 16, the third year of Fuling,

Cangxue was ill.

Very ill.

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