Chapter 291: Sharing the Meal

Hearing Gu Ning’an’s generosity in offering the meat soup to everyone, the refugees hurriedly lined up, all the while showering him with praise.

Setting aside his own bowl of pork rib soup, Gu Ning’an picked up a wooden ladle and gently stirred the pot.

At once, the large chunks of rib meat fell apart, breaking into thin shreds.

He did this because he realized that there were simply too many refugees. If he gave out whole pieces of meat, at least half of them wouldn’t get any at all.

The first in line was the thin woman from before. She held out a chipped, broken bowl with both hands, carefully extending it toward Gu Ning’an.

As she watched him scoop up a small ladleful of broth from the iron pot, she instinctively tightened her grip on the bowl, making it tremble slightly in her hands.

Once the soup landed in her bowl, the warmth seeped through the ceramic. Feeling the comforting heat, the woman quickly stepped aside and squatted down, taking tiny, careful sips…

Gu Ning’an’s hands remained steady as he served the soup—each person received the same small ladleful, no more, no less.

Even when some, after receiving their share, tried to flatter him or exaggerate their hardships, hoping for more, the portion remained unchanged.

Seeing this, the refugees further back in line sighed in relief.

They had been worried that this kind-looking man might be too softhearted—if he started giving extra to the most pitiful ones, then others would demand more too.

If one person asked for more, then another, and another, those at the very back might not get even a single sip.

Gradually, the long and noisy line grew shorter and quieter. Those who had received their soup silently squatted nearby, savoring it in small sips.

Of course, not everyone drank the soup for themselves.

Some only took a sip before handing the rest to their wives. Others saved their portion for elderly family members. Some set it aside for their children.

Before long, the entire pot of soup had been distributed—not a single drop remained, the bottom of the pot scraped clean.

Fortunately, everyone had at least gotten a small bowlful.

Though it wasn’t much, for these weary and starving refugees, it brought a brief moment of comfort.

As the sun set behind the western hills and the sky darkened, the refugees, reinvigorated by the meal, went out to gather dry branches and lit several small bonfires.

Some of the elderly and women curled up beside the flames, drifting off to sleep. The children who could still walk gathered together, playing simple games like flicking stones.

Meanwhile, the elders with the most authority in the group approached Gu Ning’an to chat.

Naturally, their words were filled with gratitude, but Gu Ning’an simply smiled and changed the subject.

Through their conversation, he learned that most of these people came from a village called “Pili Village.”

A smaller group had joined them along the way, believing that in these chaotic times, traveling together meant more protection.

As for why they had become refugees?

It was all thanks to the imperial taxes and the county official’s cruelty.

Their region had received imperial “relief funds”—each household was granted five taels of silver, which seemed like a generous amount.

However, the money came with a catch.

After receiving five taels, every family had to pay a “monthly interest” at the end of each month—either three taels of silver or an equivalent amount in grain—for a full three years!

This burden was simply too much to bear.

For the first two months, they barely managed to scrape together enough to pay.

But by the third month, their food supplies were already running out.

How could they possibly come up with more silver for the officials?

With no other choice, the villagers made a secret plan—before the authorities came to collect, they gathered their belongings in the dead of night and fled their homeland…

The conversation stretched late into the night.

By then, the elders were struggling to keep their eyes open.

It was only when Gu Ning’an claimed he was tired that they reluctantly settled down to sleep.

Before midnight, the child who had earlier drunk the meat soup suddenly started crying again.

It was clear that his tiny stomach wasn’t used to such rich food—he hadn’t even eaten solid meat, just the broth, yet his body was struggling to handle it.

Because of this, the thin woman, who had just fallen asleep, became irritated and started muttering complaints.

But knowing that Gu Ning’an was still nearby, she held back and didn’t grumble too loudly.

Eventually, the child’s cries faded, and as the night deepened, the refugees fell into a deeper sleep.

Their snores filled the air, while the bonfires burned low, leaving behind only faint embers, glowing in the darkness.

At that moment, a shadowy figure stirred.

A gaunt woman silently got up and crept toward Gu Ning’an’s belongings.

Carefully, she reached out and began rummaging through his bag.

And sure enough, her fingers found something soft.

A gleam of delight flashed across her face as she quickly stuffed it into her chest.

Then, she grabbed a still-glowing piece of wood from the fire and quietly slipped away into the forest.

She had only taken a few steps when Gu Ning’an’s eyes suddenly opened.

He glanced at his bag, which had just been rifled through.

He had actually been asleep just moments ago.

But he had wanted to see what the woman was up to.

Seeing that she had only stolen a single white steamed bun, he couldn’t help but feel a little puzzled.

Logically speaking, in times like these, shouldn’t one take as much as possible and eat first before worrying about anything else?

On the other side, after walking some distance away, the emaciated woman took out her chipped bowl and waterskin from her bosom. She carefully tore the steamed bun into tiny pieces and placed them in the bowl.

Then, using the stick she had taken from the fire, she reignited a small flame. After setting the bowl over it, she slowly poured water from the waterskin, stirring the mixture with a clean twig.

Before long, the white steamed bun had turned into a bowl of porridge-like mush.

After extinguishing the fire, she tiptoed back to where the others were sleeping.

She first placed the bowl of mush on the ground, then carefully walked over and “stole” the swaddled infant from its mother’s arms.

Seeing this, Gu Ning’an immediately understood what she was doing. He hadn’t expected that the woman who seemed so annoyed by the child earlier would go as far as stealing a steamed bun in the middle of the night, painstakingly turning it into mush to feed the baby.

The emaciated woman carried the child a little farther away and patted its tiny bottom.

The baby opened its eyes, and instead of crying upon seeing someone other than its mother, it smiled.

“You little thing, you only know how to smile now?”

“Weren’t you the one crying your lungs out and driving everyone mad earlier?”

The woman chided softly, then picked up the mush and patiently fed the baby little by little with the twig.

The child ate happily, its tiny lips pursing like a little fish’s mouth, moving constantly.

Before long, after finishing the mush, the woman carefully cradled the baby and prepared to return it to its mother’s side.

However, just as the child’s body touched the woman’s arm, the sleeping mother suddenly opened her eyes…