Ever since Shi Wuxiang returned home, Yuan Zhao stopped involving himself in the porridge distribution at the shop. Jia Xiaomei was steady and reliable in her work, and Chen Yishu was rare in his diligence as well. The two of them handled the charity work properly between them.
Other merchants in town were also giving out relief. After being praised by the county magistrate, everyone was highly motivated. Some, for the sake of reputation, even braved the summer heat to personally distribute food. Three to five shops would take turns each day, rotating in shifts, so the beggars and the poor never went without meals.
Ever since Jia Xiaomei started going out, the Shi family’s gate had been bolted from the inside. It kept strangers from pushing their way in. At times like this, even familiar neighbors had to be treated with a bit of caution.
Knock, knock, knock.
For the first time in days, someone knocked on the Shi family’s door.
“Pan’er, it’s me!”
The unfamiliar voice called out Madam Zhang’s given name. Ever since she got married, she had never allowed anyone to call her by that name. People usually addressed her as Madam Zhang of the Shi family or Sister Zhang. It had been over a decade since anyone had called her this way.
She didn’t like that name, no matter how pleasant it sounded.
Even Yuan Zhao, who had married into the family later, knew this was her taboo. Whoever was outside had deliberately used it to provoke her. The group exchanged glances, unsure what to do.
“I’ll go take a look.” Shi Qingyue was the first to lose patience. He moved to rush out and open the gate to drive the person away, but Shi Wuxiang grabbed him.
“Shh. Stay calm.” Shi Wuxiang signaled him with his eyes. “Let’s hear what Mother says first.”
He knew no one in the village would address her like that. It had to be someone from her past—likely relatives from her natal family. After a brief thought, he already had a guess.
People don’t come knocking without a reason.
After all these years without contact, showing up now could not mean anything good.
Sure enough—
Madam Zhang’s expression darkened. The voice was unfamiliar to the children, but painfully familiar to her. She had listened to it for more than ten years in her youth.
The younger voice belonged to her sister-in-law. The older one was her mother.
Back then, her “marriage” had been more like being driven out. She was a daughter, and once she came of age, she had to be married off. Even her name reflected her family’s desperate wish for a son.
As the eldest daughter, she had given much to the family, yet was never valued. She was not blindly filial, nor did she chase wealth, so she married the man who truly treated her well and escaped that harsh home. She never expected that after so many years, they would still track her down.
“Don’t pay them any mind. Let them think no one’s home—they’ll leave soon.” Madam Zhang’s face was pale, her legs even a little unsteady. “I’m going back to rest.”
Yuan Zhao hurried forward to support her. “Mother, I’ll help you inside. Take it slow. Ranran, go with her.”
“Okay, sister-in-law.” Shi Qingran quickly followed.
Outside, the knocking never stopped. From time to time, voices called out as well, persistent as if they felt no heat at all.
But with Madam Zhang’s order, no one opened the door.
Still, the people outside were clearly not the type to give up easily.
Suddenly, several loud wails rang out—young boys crying, mixed with an elderly voice chanting and shouting theatrically. The noise was so loud it seemed meant for the entire village to hear, and soon enough, it drew a crowd.
“Help! Everyone, come look! A daughter refusing to acknowledge her own mother! Our family is in trouble and she won’t even lend a hand—we can’t go on living!”
“Aunt, please open the door! Save us! We’ll kowtow to you—please!”
“What’s going on… why the sudden commotion? That old woman looks familiar… isn’t she Madam Zhang’s mother? Haven’t seen her in over ten years!”
“Showing up now—her intentions are obvious. Acting like she’s desperate to survive. Has she forgotten how she used to look down on people?”
Most families in the village still had enough grain stored. Missing a few days of farming wouldn’t leave them starving. So even though they knew the Shi family had reserves, no one had dared to show up uninvited. For the sake of neighborly relations, they had to show some restraint.
But this old woman had come straight to the door.
And judging by the scene, she was here to take things by force.
The group continued wailing and rolling on the ground, ignoring the villagers’ scorn. Their stance was clear—they wouldn’t leave empty-handed.
Madam Zhang knew that once you let trouble in, it would be hard to send it away. That was why she hadn’t wanted to deal with them at all. But with them making such a scene outside, disturbing the entire neighborhood, she couldn’t bring herself to ignore it completely.
Seeing her hesitation, Shi Wuxiang spoke softly, “If you want to open the door, then open it. They won’t stop otherwise. But we should settle this once and for all.”
“…Alright.” Trembling slightly, Madam Zhang went to open the door herself.
Her so-called natal family rushed in immediately. The villagers followed, ready to help if things got out of hand, unwilling to let this widow and her children suffer alone.
Looking at the two familiar faces and three unfamiliar boys, Madam Zhang instantly recognized them as her younger brother’s sons. Her brother himself was absent—likely long dead.
Her expression turned cold and composed.
“What do you want?” she asked. “We cut ties long ago. For over ten years, you never cared about us. Why come now?”
“Pan’er! What happened back then was Mother’s fault.” The old woman wiped at nonexistent tears. “All these years, I’ve missed you, but I felt too ashamed to come. Recently the weather’s been strange—I worried you might be struggling, so I brought your sister-in-law and nephews to visit. Seeing you living in a brick house puts my heart at ease.”
“You’ve seen enough. You can leave now.” Madam Zhang’s tone was icy, clearly unwilling to continue.
The old woman cried pitifully while Madam Zhang remained unmoved. A few villagers, not fully grasping the situation, almost spoke up to mediate—after all, so many years had passed. Was it worth holding a grudge?
But before they could speak, others stopped them.
Everyone knew the Shi family protected their own fiercely. Shi Wuxiang, a scholar, was standing right there. These people had come with ill intent—anyone siding with them would be openly opposing the Shi family.
And with the current circumstances, offending a well-off household like the Shi family brought no benefits.
Seeing that her act wasn’t working—and now that she was already inside—the old woman dropped the pretense.
She planted her hands on her hips and began scolding, “You ungrateful wretch! Now you dare lecture your own parents? I’m acknowledging you again, and you still dare act high and mighty?”
“Watch your mouth!” Shi Qingyue stepped forward, shielding Madam Zhang, though he still glanced sideways at his elder brother, waiting for his cue.
Shi Wuxiang smiled faintly. “You claim to be my mother’s family. Then show proof. Otherwise, I’ll have to assume you’re here to swindle money.”
“Proof? I’m her mother—what proof do I need?” The old woman panicked. She had come happily upon hearing her useless daughter now had a scholar son, but now found herself stumbling. “If she’s not my daughter, why would I come?”
“You say so, and that makes it true?” Yuan Zhao immediately chimed in. “Then I say I’m a wealthy merchant—does that make it so? Making claims without proof—be careful, or I’ll report you to the authorities!”
The old woman and her daughter-in-law were instantly intimidated, at a loss for words. It was the two boys who spoke up instead.
“So many people in the village recognize our grandma—that proves our aunt is our aunt!”
“Lots of people recognize lots of others. You say my aunt is your aunt—then I say you’re my little brother!” Yuan Ge’er puffed up his thin chest bravely. After all, he was a child—no one would take offense.
It was a deadlock.
Back when Madam Zhang married into the Shi family, her household registration had been transferred over. She no longer had any ties to her original family. And after they had driven her out so harshly—throwing away all her belongings—and with nearly twenty years of no contact, their claims held no weight.
The old woman trembled with rage, her gaze turning sinister as she looked toward the villagers.
“These people all know she’s my daughter—that should count as proof!”
“Is that so?” Shi Wuxiang raised a brow, following her gaze with a calm, almost amused expression. “Then ask them. Who’s willing to testify for you?”
His tone was mild, but carried a quiet threat. His steady, unfathomable gaze made the villagers lower their heads, shaking them in denial. Not one dared to meet the old woman’s eyes.
No one would offend the Shi family.
The old woman immediately deflated, reverting to loud crying, while her daughter-in-law and grandsons wailed and begged.
Shi Wuxiang continued, “If you want to stay, it’s not impossible—but only one of you may remain.”
At first, the group was overjoyed—but upon hearing the last part, they froze.
There were five of them. Only one could stay?
“How could that work? We all—”
“All what?” Shi Wuxiang cut in coolly. “Do you really think our family runs a charity? Taking in even one stranger would already be generous. Don’t be greedy.”
He was adept at manipulating people’s hearts.
He wanted to see, among them, who truly mattered most.
He knew that if the old woman’s son hadn’t died—if they hadn’t truly reached the end of the road—they probably wouldn’t have remembered they still had a daughter at all.
But wanting an easy, comfortable life was never something that came easily.
The old woman instantly clutched her chest and began coughing when she heard this. Then she started crying to her younger daughter-in-law and her three grandsons. “My miserable fate! I only have a few days left to live, and I’m still going to be thrown out to die—what am I supposed to do?”
“Mother-in-law, stop pretending. Even if one person gets to stay, it shouldn’t be you. It should be one of the children. You don’t have many days left anyway—stop dreaming about something so good!”
“You shameless wretch, what are you saying? If they’re the ones staying, then which one? All three are your flesh and blood! Dabao, Erbao, Sanbao—you all heard that! None of you are getting in!”
Just moments ago they had been united, making a fuss at the Shi family’s door. In the blink of an eye, they turned on each other. It was a pitiful sight.
The three children immediately started fighting, and the old woman and her daughter-in-law grabbed each other by the hair and began brawling. As they shoved and struggled, they were pushed farther and farther away. The villagers could only stand there, stunned, and those with a bit of sense quietly slipped away.
Shi Wuxiang shut the gate at once. The people outside had no mind left to force their way in—they were too busy fighting over the single chance to survive. Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought they were enemies rather than family.
The villagers tossed out a few sarcastic remarks before dispersing. Now that the group had been driven off by the Shi family, no one was going to stand under the scorching sun just to watch their drama.
Listening to the commotion outside, Madam Shi let out a soft sigh.
She had long since stopped expecting anything from those so-called relatives, but she could not help feeling a pang for her past self—working so hard, gaining nothing, and even letting her children witness such humiliation.
“Mother, you should be glad,” Shi Wuxiang said gently, trying to comfort her. “If they hadn’t come and made a scene, you would still occasionally cling to thoughts of that old family bond. Now, seeing this clearly will help you let go completely. Letting them go is a good thing.”
Besides, that so-called mother wasn’t truly concerned about her grandsons. Otherwise, she would have begged for the three children to be taken in earlier, instead of trying to secure comfort for herself.
At her core, she was simply selfish—not because Madam Shi was her daughter.
“Yes… after all these years, I always held onto a bit of hope. Now I’ve truly let it go.” Madam Shi patted his shoulder. The once frail boy had grown tall and strong, now capable of supporting the entire household.
All her thoughts should belong to the family inside the courtyard—not to the mother who had once abandoned her.
The people outside fought from morning until noon. At first, there were still cries for help, but gradually, everything fell silent.
At one point, Yuan Zhao climbed a ladder to look outside. The gate was empty. They had likely realized they would gain nothing here and simply left.
After that, the Shi household remained peaceful. No more chaotic disturbances. Occasionally, someone would knock, but only to barter goods—not to rob outright—so the family was willing to trade.
The heat was unbearable. Many things could not be stored for long. Even though they did not want to put all their eggs in one basket, the oppressive weather forced them to store everything in the relatively cool cellar.
Shi Wuxiang drank herbal soup brewed with huoxiang every day to prevent heatstroke. He also tried different ways to cook for the family. Though the heat dampened everyone’s appetite, good food could still stir some hunger.
When it became too unbearable, they would hide in the cellar, gulping down cool well water almost daily. Life went on—they even had the energy to bicker.
“At least put some clothes on, will you?” Shi Wuxiang was astonished daily by Yuan Zhao’s lack of restraint.
At the hottest time of day, Yuan Zhao would strip completely and lie spread-eagle on the floor, with only a thin cloth beneath him—and a very small square cloth barely covering a certain area.
Yuan Zhao had never tolerated heat well. Hearing this, he grew irritated. “This is how I am! If you don’t want to look, then close your eyes. You’re not allowed to look!”
Shi Wuxiang pointed at him, half-threatening, “You’d better behave, or I’ll deal with you.”
“How? Throw me out into the sun to dry into jerky? I’m already a naked piece of jerky!” Yuan Zhao pounded the floor angrily, making dull thudding sounds.
“Alright, alright, my fault. I won’t say anything anymore.” Shi Wuxiang hurried to soothe him. Then, wearing only his underpants, he lay down beside him. “I’ve apologized—can’t I at least look at you?”
Yuan Zhao huffed and turned to face him. Shi Wuxiang’s eyes widened instantly, and he quickly adjusted the fallen cloth to cover him properly again.
His skin was unevenly tanned, making him look a bit comical—but also pitiful. What Shi Wuxiang once joked about as “chocolate skin” was actually the mark of years of forced labor.
Everyone here worked the fields, but there was a difference between helping willingly and being exploited.
“When will it finally rain?” Yuan Zhao sighed softly. “Right now, handing out porridge isn’t as helpful as a bowl of water.”
“Just wait a little longer. Heaven won’t abandon the Great Sheng like this,” Shi Wuxiang said gently. He wanted to pat him in comfort but held back, knowing his warm hand would only make things worse.
Hearing him mention the entire empire reminded Yuan Zhao of something else.
“What about this year’s imperial exam? If this keeps up, won’t you be unable to go to the provincial capital? Wouldn’t all your years of studying go to waste?” Yuan Zhao looked at him worriedly, then quickly added, “Maybe it’s better not to go. Traveling in this heat—you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
“We’ll take it one step at a time,” Shi Wuxiang said calmly. “If it doesn’t happen this year, there will be another exam after the hardship passes.”
Yuan Zhao still looked troubled. “That’s another whole year…”
Shi Wuxiang raised a brow and teased, “In such a hurry to live as the wife of a successful candidate?”
“You’ve got some nerve saying that… So you’re certain you’ll pass? I didn’t know you were this confident.” Yuan Zhao propped himself up, resting his chin on his arms. The small cloth slipped under him again.
His rounded hips were left completely exposed.
No wonder Shi Wuxiang still treated him like a child—who else could be so unselfconscious in front of someone they liked?
Even children would be more embarrassed than this.
Shi Wuxiang forced himself not to look and simply closed his eyes with a smile. “I have that much confidence. Otherwise, what would all these years be for? Cover yourself—you’ll catch a chill.”
“You scholars really are something. I even asked Mister Lu about the provincial capital so I wouldn’t embarrass you. In this heat, I won’t catch a cold,” Yuan Zhao said.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier you asked about that? Keeping secrets from your husband—is that appropriate? Your stomach is sensitive. Even touching the ground could make you sick. Cover up.”
The cloth was stuck in an awkward place, and Shi Wuxiang couldn’t reach for it, so he had to make Yuan Zhao do it himself.
Yuan Zhao snorted but still pulled the cloth out and twisted around to cover himself again. “I wanted it to be a surprise. But it looks like there won’t be a chance now. If things really get that bad, what will we do? Will we run out of food and water too?”
They had plenty of stored grain, but clearly not enough to last half a year. And if the drought lasted that long… it was a despairing thought.
“We just need to live each day well,” Shi Wuxiang said. Even he hoped the rain would come soon.
As the drought dragged on, the people began praying for rain.
Even under the blazing sun, many knelt in the streets, begging for rainfall.
“Amitabha.”
A monk in robes passed by with two young disciples, bowing slightly to the kneeling crowd.
“Heaven’s will is such. Our sins are too heavy. If you wish for rain, you must cast aside all worldly attachments and transcend the mortal realm. Otherwise, you will remain sinners.”
“Master, what do you mean by ‘sinners’? We’re just ordinary people! How could we have committed sins?” someone asked in confusion.
The monk pressed his palms together again and softly chanted before replying, “From birth, one carries karmic burdens. As you grow, you become entangled in worldly desires, growing ever more corrupt. Only by abandoning these attachments and returning to simplicity can you survive.”
“Worldly attachments? What attachments? We already have nothing left.”
“Yes… you still do.” The monk spoke cryptically and then left with his disciples.
The common people could not understand his meaning. They could only watch him go, still pondering what he meant by “worldly attachments.”
But if one were to name the most worldly thing of all, it would surely be money.
“Which temple is that master from? I’ve never seen him before. Could he have come to save us from suffering?”
“Then let’s give him our worldly possessions! Maybe we’ll survive!”
“Master! Master!”
Some staggered after him, desperate to offer everything they had in exchange for a chance to live.
At first, only a few followed. But as days passed, more and more blindly joined them—and more people starved to death.
When Yuan Zhao and Shi Wuxiang heard of this, they were shocked. The town had been distributing food regularly. Anyone hungry could line up for porridge, buns, or steamed bread. Under such conditions, how could there still be deaths?
It sounded utterly absurd.
Yuan Zhao stopped slacking off and went with Shi Wuxiang to town to see for themselves. Only then did he realize that the porridge being distributed now had leftovers every day—completely unlike before, when people would scramble desperately just to get a bowl.
“What exactly is going on?” Shi Wuxiang asked a patrolling constable. “Does the magistrate know about this?”
The constable’s lips were cracked and bleeding. He licked at the blood with some difficulty and nodded. “The magistrate already knows. But these people… they’re choosing not to eat or drink. They’re starving themselves to death. You can’t force a cow to drink water if it won’t lower its head. No matter how anxious the magistrate is, there’s nothing he can do.”
“That makes it even stranger. When the magistrate first came to town, they were all kowtowing and begging to be saved. How did they suddenly decide to starve themselves? Something’s wrong.” Yuan Zhao frowned, his expression unusually serious.
The grain he distributed wasn’t fine rice, but it was still decent stock from the past couple of years. Even now, they had never stopped giving aid—yet these people had given up on themselves.
When something is abnormal, there must be something behind it.
Qingshui Town no longer had the vitality it once did. Beggars and refugees lay sprawled on the ground, their faces pale, lips cracked, skin scorched by the blazing sun. Some had even begun to rot, giving off a foul stench.
Even so, they made no attempt to save themselves.
“They wouldn’t change like this for no reason. There must have been a trigger,” Shi Wuxiang said.
“Yes! A few days ago, a group of so-called masters suddenly appeared in town! They said something to the people, and then this started happening!”
“I heard them too—they said if we want to live, we have to abandon worldly attachments. Said we’re all born with karmic burdens!”
“Masters?” Shi Wuxiang understood at once. “I’m afraid they’re no masters at all.”
“Then what are they?”
“People who bewitch the masses—demonic monks.”