Chapter 617
Chapter 617
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 617
>Chapter Title: Disaster Victims
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The clattering of bowls never stopped. Niu San squatted amid the crowd, clutching a large bowl and slurping down the porridge inside.
The millet and sorghum porridge wasn't thick, mixed in with wild greens, radish seedlings, sweet potatoes, and yam eggs.
But even so, Niu San ate while crying. It was just too delicious—he'd never tasted anything this good in his entire life.
He stuck out his tongue and licked the bowl surface clean. Niu San emerged from the squatting crowd and timidly made his way toward the porridge stall.
Though emaciated beyond recognition, Niu San's towering frame still immediately drew the notice of the nearby village militiamen.
“What are you doing! Stand right there!”
Several Oxheart Village militiamen jabbed their spears toward Niu San, their tones stern.
They had no choice but to be stern. Deep down, they were afraid too—where had this bunch of disaster victims come from out of nowhere?
“Th-that officer said two bowls per person, right? Could I get another bowl?”
Niu San craned his neck, asking ingratiatingly.
As a big ladle of coarse-grain porridge poured into his bowl, Niu San bowed and scraped before retreating back into the crowd to savor his meal.
Sure, he'd once been a squad leader in the army, a man of some standing, but now? For food, he'd drop to his knees and crawl through anyone's crotch.
Licking the bowl clean once more, the quick-thinking Niu San stealthily glanced toward the adjacent village.
Unlike the shattered ruins he'd seen before, this village brimmed with vitality, showing not the slightest sign of disaster.
This was too bizarre. When that heavenly calamity struck, barely one in ten across all of Great Qi had survived—no one was spared.
“Could some great master be sheltering this place?”
Just then, he spotted a rift suddenly tearing open in midair above a distant field. A young Daoist in a red robe crawled out from within, confirming Niu San's suspicion on the spot.
From afar, he saw the Daoist glance toward their group before entering the village ringed by hurdles and speaking with a freakish man whose face was splotched black and white.
Before long, Niu San watched the freak saunter up to the crowd, hands clasped behind his back, exuding grandeur. He pointed casually with a finger.
“You, you, you, and you—come out!”
These four were the burliest among the disaster victims, Niu San included.
“Listen up. My Senior Brother Li is kind-hearted, a great philanthropist who can't stand to see folks suffer. That's why he's handing out porridge to you lot.”
“But with over a hundred of you milling about in chaos, how's anyone supposed to manage? You four are their heads from now on.”
“Keep your fellow villagers in line. Shit and piss in the woods! No funny business. Anyone who won't obey, point 'em out—their porridge rations get cut in half tomorrow!”
“Hey, hey, hey.”
Watching the four nod and bow to him, Gouwa beamed with smug satisfaction. This felt damn good.
Seeing the four melt back into the crowd, Gouwa turned to Li Huowang at his side.
“Senior Brother Li, this is a good deed and all, and we don't lack for grain, but these people keep multiplying. Can we handle it?”
Li Huowang gazed at the disaster victims, his voice low.
“They won't keep multiplying. Hardly any people left alive in Great Qi.”
He had just checked Great Qi himself—within dozens of li all around, these were likely the only survivors.
At that moment, hoofbeats rang out. Li Huowang saw Chun Xiaoman galloping back with several village militiamen on horseback.
Her single arm yanked the reins as she flipped off the horse and addressed Li Huowang.
“Senior Brother Li, you were right. It's not just here—refugees have popped up in other villages too, even the county seat.”
“Any of them wearing white turbans?”
Li Huowang asked.
“There are, but not many. We searched around and found just three or five.”
Hearing this, Li Huowang's heart sank. These Great Qi folk showing up wasn't random. Gao Zhijian had once been Great Qi's emperor, yet now he was tied to Great Liang's dragon vein.
Whether Great Qi was that lost stretch of history or not, its people were now trickling into Great Liang.
Zhuge Yuan's plan from back then had worked—Great Qi's commoners were saved, albeit in some peculiar fashion.
More crucially now, it seemed more than just the commoners had come along. He needed to alert Gao Zhijian pronto.
“Mm.”
Li Huowang nodded. After a moment's contemplation, he drew a folded envelope from his bosom.
“Go to the capital for me. Deliver this to Gao Zhijian and the Supervising Heaven Bureau.”
“Got it.”
Chun Xiaoman snatched the letter and spurred her horse down the road.
Li Huowang exhaled long and slow. The one scrap of good news was Great Qi's one-in-ten survival rate—the devotees of Yu'er God had taken massive hits too. Had they flooded into Great Liang intact, it would've been apocalyptic for the realm.
Yet even with heavy losses, Great Qi's surviving Fa Cult followers remained a ticking time bomb.
“Senior Brother Li, are you pondering how to deal with these people?”
Bai Lingmiao asked softly as she approached.
Li Huowang slowly crossed his arms, eyeing the distant disaster victims.
“Yeah. Not many of them, but these are starved rabid dogs, and every survivor has some edge to them.”
“Leave 'em unchecked, and whether they turn to banditry or get scooped up by Great Liang's Fa Cult, the realm we just stabilized is headed for chaos again.”
Bai Lingmiao gnawed her fingernail cap, mulling it over before speaking.
“Senior Brother Li, how about this: I carry weight in the White Lotus Cult. I could send my people out to recruit as many as possible into the fold as believers. Sound good?”
Li Huowang shot her a surprised glance.
“White Lotus Cult? Your idea, or the higher-ups'?”
“Senior Brother Li, why ask it like that? As the Holy Maiden now, my status in the White Lotus Cult is the highest there is.”
Gazing at Bai Lingmiao's face, Li Huowang felt it was high time to discuss the White Lotus Cult with her.
That said, for the moment, letting them absorb these disaster victims made sense. Compared to the Fa Cult scheming to summon Yu'er God's advent, the White Lotus Cult came off downright benevolent.
“Fine. Tell your people to hustle. I figure the Fa Cult's already eyeing these ravenous hordes and making moves to poach them.”
“Mm!”
Bai Lingmiao nodded gently, then lightly vaulted toward the village outskirts.
Bai Lingmiao returned shortly. Not finding Li Huowang at the village head, she headed for the Bai family compound.
Entering the courtyard, she spotted Li Huowang seated on a bench, waiting for her.
“Sit. Let's talk.”
Li Huowang patted the spot beside him lightly.
Bai Lingmiao settled onto the bench, gently leaning her head on Li Huowang's shoulder.
“Be straight with me: in the White Lotus Cult, are you keeping something from me?”