Chapter 92: The Misery of Leaving One's Hometown Liu Sanjiu told him he had originally been a resident of Tusu City. Eleven years ago, on the eve of the city’s fall, he had fled to Wei City. After much effort, he had finally settled there, only to be driven onto the road again just a few short years later. His father, already seventy-two—an uncommon age in the present-day Panlong Wasteland—refused to flee this time when word came that the Baling army was approaching. The old man clung to a pillar and vowed to die with the city. Liu Sanjiu and his wife tried everything—pleading, dragging, even carrying him—but it was no use. In the end, they had to part in tears, leaving the old man behind so the rest of the family could escape eastward with their two children. As Liu Sanjiu spoke, his eyes reddened. It was hard to tell whether it was rain or tears, but streaks ran down from his face into the mud. He knew very well that his father simply could not walk fast enough and did not want to slow down the younger generation’s chances of survival. This kind of parting was all too common in the refugee group. Pick any family at random and you would hear a story full of bitterness and loss. Just then, Liu Sanjiu’s son cried out, too tired to walk any farther. At just ten years old, trudging for hours in the rain across open plains had wrung every bit of strength out of him. However, Liu Sanjiu was already carrying his daughter, and their little donkey was bent under the weight of their baggage. Adding another child to its back would likely crush the animal. He Lingchuan could not bear not offering help and said, “Let me help—” He had meant to carry the boy himself, but on second thought, he hoisted one of the bulky bundles from the donkey’s back instead. “...I’ll take this, you put the child on the donkey.” Being too eager to carry someone else’s child could make a man look like a trafficker. In times like these, lost and stolen children were anything but rare. The bundle he took contained only bedding and clothing. It was big and bulky but not worth much. Still, Liu Sanjiu shot him a look of even deeper gratitude. Meeting a good person while fleeing for your life was nothing short of a blessing from the heavens. From time to time, people from the rear would hurry past them, pushing toward the front. Fleeing war was much like fleeing a tiger. As long as you ran faster than the next person, your chances of survival rose sharply. There was nothing someone like Liu Sanjiu could do about it; they were already walking at their absolute limit. Every so often, small bands of mounted scouts came from the east, riding against the flow of the group. The sight of the Gale Army’s riders brought a trace of comfort to everyone. Liu Sanjiu pointed them out to his little daughter. “Those uncles will protect us. As long as we keep walking toward them, we’ll be safe!” Suddenly, a cry came from up ahead. He Lingchuan looked up to see an old man in his sixties slumped on the ground. He swayed twice before toppling over entirely. His wife scrambled down from the mule’s back, while their son rushed to help. However, the father had already lost consciousness. The son, gaunt and sallow-faced, was in his early forties and barely able to keep himself upright. He tried to lift his father onto his back, but after only a few steps, he stumbled and fell into the mud. Other refugees looked on in silence, then walked past without turning their heads. In this group, everyone was struggling to survive. Who had the strength left to spare for another? Liu Sanjiu and his wife exchanged a glance, then also lowered their heads and led their donkey onward. At that moment, three riders galloped up. The man in the lead reined in sharply and asked, “What’s going on here?” “Sir, my father just can’t go on!” the son pleaded through tears. “Please, I beg you, help us!” He Lingchuan glanced up—and blinked in surprise. Those long, narrow eyes over a cold, impassive face... An old acquaintance? Is he that same guy from back then? Back in the Panlong Wasteland, when the ruins’ forces attacked the troops of Heishui City, when the black dragon ordered their escort out of the desert, this had been the Gale Army officer who led the way. Only, back then, he had been a heroic spirit, fierce in battle but unable to speak, with no real interaction between them. Now, he was flesh and blood again, and this was the first time He Lingchuan had heard his voice. However, He Lingchuan quickly ducked his head, for the cavalry officer’s sharp gaze was already sweeping in his direction. Though they had never exchanged words before, He Lingchuan vividly remembered this man’s habit of wordlessly driving a spear through people. Fortunately, at that moment, a number of refugees crowded forward, eager to see how the Gale Army would handle the situation. The cavalry officer withdrew his gaze, silent for a moment before saying, “Throw away your goods and put your father on the mule.” The mule was already carrying an elderly woman along with the family’s belongings. At that, the man’s face went pale. “Sir, this mule has a lame leg. It can’t carry two people. Couldn’t you spare a horse?” “Then throw away your property, put your father on the mule, and carry your mother yourself.” The old woman stepped forward, clutching at his reins, and began to wail. “My husband can’t walk any farther. Please have mercy! You’ve no shortage of horses, but he’s only got one life!” Her sparse white hair, plastered to her face by the rain, made her look all the more pitiful. The cavalry officer’s gaze swept over her face, then down to the unconscious man on the ground and the son’s pleading eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed. Everyone could see he was hesitating. The son immediately dropped to his knees, knocking his forehead on the ground again and again. “Please, have mercy on us! Lend me a horse!” He repeated the plea four or five times. The cavalry officer let out a long breath. Just as He Lingchuan thought he might give in, the man pointed toward a small hill nearby. “There’s a cave there where you can take shelter from the rain. I can send men to take your father up to rest, and come back for him in a day or two.” The son stared in shock. “Up the hill? That’s a death sentence! What if the enemy comes?” The woman’s crying rose in pitch, and the son finally snapped, “Mother, stop crying!” “You’ll just have to gamble. Make your decision now!” the cavalry officer said coldly. “If the enemy pulls back in a day or two, I’ll be sure to send men to check the place.” He waited a few breaths, but when the son still wavered, he snapped the reins, ready to ride on. “Wait, wait!” The man gritted his teeth. “I’ve decided! Please take my father up the hill. Please, help me with him!” The cavalry officer gave a slight nod to his men, and they immediately lifted the old man into the saddle. The old woman suddenly said, “Take me too. I’ll stay with my husband!” Her tone was ironclad. The son mumbled twice but did not object. And so, the riders took the elderly couple and galloped off toward the small hill, some seventy paces away. The cavalry officer moved on without further pause. The middle-aged man stood watching for a while, a look of desolation on his face, then led his mule onward. Of the original family of four, he was now the only one left. Liu Sanjiu’s wife whispered, “That’s pitiful... but that cavalry officer’s heart is hard. I thought the Gale Army treated us commoners well.” Liu Sanjiu said dully, “They can’t help everyone. Who here doesn’t need help?” If the cavalry officer had rescued that old couple, the other refugees would have surged forward, asking the same. Why them and not us? Aren’t we all refugees? The soldiers’ mission was not to save people but to shield them from the enemy. If they got bogged down here, they might not be able to reinforce the others, which could cause trouble for the comrades holding the rearguard. His wife frowned. “You’re actually speaking up for them?” “Why not?” Liu Sanjiu gave a bitter smile. “At least the Gale Army came to escort us. We’re not even from Panlong City.”