Chapter 290: Refugees

On a narrow, ancient road, a group of displaced refugees trudged forward like lost souls, struggling with every step.

Their clothes were tattered, their movements unsteady, and their faces bore deep imprints of helplessness. Their lifeless eyes reflected nothing but confusion about the future.

The golden glow of the setting sun bathed them, stretching their shadows long upon the ancient road, making the scene appear even more desolate and bleak.

At a glance, the refugees were of all ages—elderly men leaning on canes, infants still wrapped in swaddling clothes. Their numbers were not small; wherever one looked, there were countless heads bobbing unevenly along the road.

They moved forward slowly, their heavy footsteps mingling with sighs and coughs, creating a soundscape of exhaustion and despair.

As they passed by a pine tree, a few gaunt men stepped out from the crowd. Holding small knives in their hands, they surrounded an old pagoda tree and began scraping off its bark.

The outer layer of the bark was light gray—inedible. The men skillfully peeled it away, then carefully carved out the milky-white inner bark bit by bit with their knives.

Their movements were practiced and efficient. In no time, each of them had gathered a handful of bark strips the length of a finger and returned to the crowd.

Behind them, the pine tree stood scarred and battered.

The men distributed the softer inner bark to the elderly and children, keeping only the tough, difficult-to-chew pieces for themselves.

Among the refugees, a woman chewed the bark into pulp, mixing it with her own saliva before feeding it to the infant in her arms.

But the child, having gone days without a drop of milk, rejected the food, wailing ceaselessly.

The crying drew the attention of the other refugees—some turned with irritation, some with helplessness. Others fumbled through their clothes, hoping to find something to offer, only to come up empty-handed and look away.

The woman, her face sallow, gently rocked the child, hoping to soothe its cries.

But what had once worked no longer seemed to have any effect.

“So damn annoying! Cry, cry, cry! Is that all it knows how to do?”

“Can’t even take care of a kid properly?”

A thin, shriveled woman in the crowd snapped impatiently.

Hunger had left her irritable, and the endless crying grated on her nerves, making her scratch at her own head in frustration.

The mother looked helplessly at her husband, signaling him not to get angry. Then, in a weak voice, she turned to the irate woman and said, “I’m sorry… the child hasn’t had milk in days… he’s starving…”

“Starving? Who here isn’t starving?” The woman, now with an outlet for her pent-up emotions, lashed out harshly. “I eat nothing but dry, bitter bark every day, and you don’t hear me complaining!”

“I don’t know what you were thinking—bringing a useless burden in times like these. Can you even keep it alive?”

“Last time, we finally caught a fish, and what did you do? Used the whole pot of broth to try and get your milk flowing!”

“And where’s that milk now? You drank it all yourself, and it was a complete waste!”

“If you want to drag yourselves down, fine! But don’t expect the rest of us to give you the best food and drink just because you have a child. What makes you so special?”

Her words ignited the fury of the child’s father. Rolling up his sleeves, he stepped forward, ready to teach her a lesson.

But before he could take more than a few steps, his wife pulled him back.

Holding the child close, she shielded her husband and turned to the crowd. “Elders, fellow villagers, I know everyone has been kind to us, and our child has caused trouble for you all.”

“Times are hard, and our family has nothing to offer in return. But if we make it through this ordeal, the Chen family will never forget this kindness!”

Her words were sincere, though they did little to move the bitter woman. The latter simply sneered, “Talk is cheap,” before falling silent.

At that moment, the respected elders in the group finally spoke. Their role was to mediate conflicts, so they “scolded” the man who wanted to fight and “advised” the sharp-tongued woman, but ultimately left it at that.

Disputes like these were common among the refugees. Hunger had frayed everyone’s nerves, making tempers short. Arguments broke out over the smallest things. The elders, too weak from starvation, had once tried to intervene immediately.

But over time, they learned to wait—letting those with the energy argue first. Only once the shouting died down would they step in with a few words to settle the matter…

“That smells amazing!”

“Do you smell that? Where is that meat aroma coming from?”

The thin woman sniffed the air greedily, her eyes lighting up as she shouted,

“That smells amazing!”

The other refugees, hearing her, also caught the scent of meat drifting in on the wind. Their faces lit up with excitement as they called out.

“Mother of God! I smell it too! It really smells like meat!”

“Hurry, hurry! Let’s find out where it’s coming from! I haven’t had meat in so long—I’m starving for it!”

“It’s coming from the forest up north! Let’s go, quick!”

In an instant, the refugees were in an uproar. Once they pinpointed the direction, they rushed toward the northern forest…

In the northern forest, a bright bonfire crackled loudly, flames dancing in the dimming light. Suspended above the fire was a heavy iron pot, its contents bubbling as steam curled into the air, carrying an irresistible aroma.

Inside, a pot of braised pork rib soup simmered, its broth rich and milky white. A thin layer of steam floated above the surface, and the scent alone was enough to make one’s mouth water.

Gu Ning’an held a wooden ladle, scooping himself a bowl of soup. Just as he took his first sip, he suddenly heard the sound of approaching footsteps—many of them.

A rustling filled the air as numerous people burst out from the surrounding underbrush, their eyes glowing with hunger.

From their ragged clothing, it was clear they were refugees displaced by the chaos in Great Wu.

But Gu Ning’an didn’t speak first. Instead, he waited for the refugees who had surrounded him to say something.

“Sir! Please, could you spare a piece of meat? I haven’t tasted meat in so long—I’m starving!”

“Yes, please! Have mercy and share some with us!”

“We’re on the brink of starvation, sir! You look like a kind man—please, just a little!”

Even though their eyes were filled with desperation, they didn’t immediately rush forward to snatch the food. Instead, they restrained themselves, choosing to ask first rather than rely on their numbers to seize it by force.

Seeing this, Gu Ning’an smiled and nodded.

“Alright. Do you have bowls? Line up one by one, and I’ll serve you some.”