ATEG Chapter 100.2

Compared to these shabbily dressed, haggard-looking refugees, the Disciplinary Bureau’s mounted squad was far too conspicuous on the official road. Those sleek, well-fed horses normally represented authority that people avoided at all costs, but now they represented meat.

Ordinary people could never understand refugees about to starve to death, but they could see it. The Disciplinary Bureau’s mounted squad had already encountered refugees many times. Each time they were blocked to beg for food—people desperate from hunger dared even block galloping horses. If they truly stopped, they would be dragged from their mounts and stripped of everything useful. As for those horses, they would become food in the refugees’ mouths.

The Disciplinary Bureau’s mounted squad was already experienced in dealing with these refugees. They would not stop, but neither would they let horses trample over people. They had techniques.

But this time, the Disciplinary Bureau members did not need to use their techniques. These fleeing refugees did not come up to block them. They at most cast one glance at this conspicuously different mounted squad, then continued rushing toward the city gate. Their eyes did not hold that common numbness of living day by day—their eyes held light.

The reason was simple. On this official road, besides refugees and people like the Disciplinary Bureau who were clearly not refugees by their dress, there were also these groups of people wearing gray and black cloth clothes maintaining order.

These gray-black clothed people started calling out half a li from the city gate, telling refugees not to scramble—there was free grain distribution at the city gate ahead, they could enter the city in an orderly line, there was work to do in the city that could be exchanged for grain.

Each of them had a large cloth pouch and a water gourd tied at their waist. Each watched over a section of road. Once they saw refugees whose strength was failing, they would take out dry cakes from their pouches and feed them with water from their gourds, bring them to rest in the shade by the roadside, then after they recovered let them continue to the city gate to queue.

These people used their personal food supplies to save people without stinting. The long queue at the city gate was visible too, so the refugees believed their words. As long as they could still barely hold on, they persisted toward the city gate.

A refugee who had been fed and helped to rest by the roadside asked the person in gray-black clothes beside him. “Is there really that much grain? Just distributed to us like this?”

His words were full of unease. As soon as he asked, others resting here also pricked up their ears and looked over. 

“Rest assured!” That person guaranteed. “There’s definitely enough grain, but it’s not given for free. Those just entering the city can receive several days’ worth of grain, but after that they’ll have to work—nothing difficult. Those with skills will be assigned according to their skills, those without skills also have work to do.”

“Like me—I’m also a refugee, just arrived half a month before you. My current assignment is this work here. These past half month it’s been this way—all refugees who come are taken in! All have work to do, food and clothing to receive!”

He patted his chest to assure them. From the wrinkles on his face and calluses on his hands, one could see this was truly an ordinary person, still bearing traces of previous suffering.

A guarantee given by such a person was undoubtedly reassuring to the refugees.

But people still inevitably had doubts and continued asking, “There are so many of us—how can there be enough grain?”

That person showed no impatience and answered, “If it were an ordinary wealthy family distributing grain, there definitely wouldn’t be enough.”

Never mind ordinary families—with this method of intake, even official granaries would likely not be enough. Most of them were ordinary farmers who might know nothing about refined matters, but they were absolutely sensitive about grain.

Yet the person in gray-black clothes continued very proudly. “But those distributing grain to us are not those wealthy families or official lords—they’re immortals! Immortals of the Xuanqing Sect!”

Immortals who could use magic could naturally have lots and lots of grain!

After hearing this, the other refugees indeed relaxed and said joyfully:

“So it’s the living immortals of the Xuanqing Sect!” 

“Wonderful!” 

“We don’t need to keep running!”

For these ordinary farmers, they didn’t need to understand clearly what kind of sect the Xuanqing Sect was. They only needed to know that the Xuanqing Sect was a sect of cultivators, that cultivators could use magic and do things ordinary people couldn’t, so naturally they could also conjure lots of grain. This was very reasonable logic.

Such an event, occurring in any other vassal state, would not normally be surprising. Yet this scene was happening precisely in Liang.

Liang was a country where evil sects were rampant, and cultivators had a poor reputation among ordinary people. Like when Li Chi first entered Liang’s borders and gave directions to Xu Tian and Xu Li who had encountered ghost-hitting-the-wall—Xu Tian’s first reaction was suspicion. This was experience accumulated by Liang’s people over years of living. Compared to helping commoners, Liang’s cultivators were more likely to use their thoughts, flesh and blood, even souls for cultivation.

Yet here, the people in gray-black clothes merely mentioned the name Xuanqing Sect, and these refugees sincerely relaxed.

The Xuanqing Sect had quietly established such a reputation among Liang’s commoners. This was truly a frightening thing.

Some in the mounted squad following behind were already unconsciously frowning, though Tao Xi’s expression remained normal. The group turned and arrived outside the city gate.

The city was now strictly controlled. Soldiers stood at the gate, not permitting direct entry. The area outside the city gate was divided into three zones—one was a queue for distributing porridge to refugees, one for giving number tokens to those preparing to enter the city, and the last was a rest area for those who had received tokens and were waiting to enter the city. There was a temporarily erected tea pavilion with a few people sitting here and there, and a white-haired, lame old man selling tea.

The mounted squad stopped outside the tea pavilion and dismounted. The people in the pavilion had long noticed this squad, each secretly observing them. The lame old tea-seller was instead the calmest one. Seeing more people arrive, he held a stack of rough porcelain bowls and prepared to pour tea with his pot.

The lame old man was truly just an ordinary person—his thin, wrinkled face and sinewy hands were marked with traces of suffering. He too was a refugee who had been taken in by Gannan City. For someone who could sit in this tea pavilion, whether lofty cultivators or worldly powerful figures, the gap between them and him was too vast. When the gap reached a certain degree, whether it was one chasm or one hundred chasms made no difference. Whatever plans these people sitting in the tea pavilion had were not something an old man who had nearly died in famine could influence. Since this was so, why should he care about them?

A clear breeze quietly descended nearby, manifesting into a figure in dark green robes. He appeared so naturally that though it was a surprising thing, no one felt anything unusual, as if he had always been meant to be there.

Without Tao Xi’s instruction, a two-patterned officer had already gone to queue for number tokens.

After sitting in the tea pavilion, almost everyone was observing them. The wave marks on their collars were far too conspicuous. After the great calamity began, though Liang was chaotic, the Disciplinary Bureau’s authority remained. Moreover, Tao Xi had a full seven wave marks on his collar.

Within Liang, everyone knew that where the Disciplinary Bureau appeared, something involving cultivators had surely occurred. When the Disciplinary Bureau went out on business, they naturally would not always dress so conspicuously. So-called open investigation and secret inquiry—there must be both open investigation and secret inquiry. Tao Xi’s group was not responsible for secretly investigating the Xuanqing Sect. The great calamity had begun so long ago, and the Xuanqing Sect’s influence had expanded so rapidly that they were now more obvious than lice on a bald head. At this point, for the Disciplinary Bureau to still hide their identity pretending they hadn’t noticed the Xuanqing Sect would be foolish.

However, though this trip was aimed at the Xuanqing Sect, Tao Xi kept more of his attention on Li Quan.

The old man carried his pot, dragging his foot over to pour tea for each person. After collecting the tea money, he was called over by another customer with questions.

That customer was asking about conditions inside Gannan City, but actually meant the Xuanqing Sect. The lame old man didn’t know if he understood the implication, but he answered whatever the customer asked, with no intention of hiding anything. Gannan City’s original magistrate was still alive and nominally still governing Gannan City, but in reality… he was either coerced by the Xuanqing Sect or cooperating with them. Now Gannan City had undoubtedly fallen under the Xuanqing Sect’s control.

What made the Disciplinary Bureau people frown was spoken by the old man as something very joyful. He called the Xuanqing Sect people “immortals who relieve suffering,” his gratitude overflowing in his words.

While Tao Xi chatted with Li Chi on one side, he lightly made a hand signal on the other.

A three-patterned officer struck up conversation with the old man. “Old sir, the magistrate is still here—why do you only feel grateful to the Xuanqing Sect and not remember Liang’s grace? Could it be this magistrate is doing poorly?”

The old man was stunned by this question, then said, “I don’t know if the magistrate is doing well or not. I only know that on the road I heard people say there were immortals from the Xuanqing Sect distributing grain here. When I arrived, it was also the immortals from the Xuanqing Sect who saved me, my son, and my little grandson. They arranged lodging and work for us so we could survive.”

New customers arrived at the tea pavilion. The old man finished answering then said no more, dragging his lame foot to pour tea for the new customers.

Several Disciplinary Bureau members frowned. The old man might not have felt his words were problematic, but they understood what it represented. Gannan City was Liang territory, the city walls and buildings were built by Liang, yet now the Xuanqing Sect’s reputation had overshadowed Liang’s. These people… already knew only of the Xuanqing Sect and not of Liang.

The new customer wore a thin hooded cloak of black satin embroidered with silver. When entering, they didn’t attract much attention. Now removing the hood and unfastening the cloak revealed formal purple brocade embroidered with gold and silver honeysuckle patterns beneath, and a face like translucent white jade. Narrow eyes glanced sideways toward the Disciplinary Bureau members with a cold laugh. “What? Commoner lives are cheap—high and mighty officials are too lazy to save people, yet resent the Xuanqing Sect for stealing Liang’s glory and can’t stand it?”

These words were too malicious. Several young Disciplinary Bureau members showed anger on their faces but did not speak out of turn. 

Tao Xi turned toward this newcomer. His expression was extremely calm, showing no sign of being provoked. His tone was also very mild. “Saving people is meritorious. The common people are innocent—whoever saves them is performing merit. There’s nothing to resent. But in this world, it’s not unheard of to slaughter someone’s entire family, then pretend to save one survivor and become their benefactor.”

“Is that so? Since the great personage from the Disciplinary Bureau says this, you must have evidence. Why not speak it and let us hear?” The brocade-clad person’s eyes grew colder, voice like a cold spring. Their appearance was extremely beautiful, complemented by splendid clothing, appearing even more imposing. Though they had not revealed a cultivator’s spiritual essence, their pressure still made several younger Disciplinary Bureau members with insufficient cultivation pale slightly.

Tao Xi was steady as a mountain. “Those who have received disciplines cannot claim to be great personages, yet have some insights. No matter how clever schemers are, no matter how exquisite their arrangements, they ultimately cannot escape one obstacle. No matter how densely hidden their machinations like fog, the final result will reveal both themselves and their purpose. One need only see who benefits to know who acted.”

Though the great calamity was hard to endure, Liang’s accumulated resources were deep—it should not have been so miserable. There were countless heterodox and evil sects stirring up trouble in the calamity, but none had gained benefits as great as the Xuanqing Sect—before the great calamity, few had even heard the Xuanqing Sect’s name, but now, the cities fallen into the Xuanqing Sect’s hands numbered more than just Gannan City.

“The seven-patterned officer of the Disciplinary Bureau is indeed quick-thinking and unmatched.” The brocade-clad person gave a few light claps with a smile, then suddenly withdrew all expression, his face blank, and said softly, “I’ll only ask you one question.”

“Of the many cities still fully under Liang control—have they saved people?”

Tao Xi did not speak. He need not answer. The lame tea-selling old man’s face already showed bitter resentment.

These refugees hadn’t just recently begun fleeing—they hadn’t found Gannan City in one try either. Many of them had passed through many different cities, some even reaching outside the Liang capital. But within ten li of approaching the capital, they had been driven away by Liang troops.

The reason was simple—that was the Liang capital. How could disaster victims be allowed to storm it?

Some places had official granaries yet refused to open them for distribution. The reason was also simple—official grain was limited while disaster victims were numerous. If they didn’t distribute grain, that was one thing, but if they did, they would very likely be mobbed by crazed victims. They would go from robbing official granaries to robbing wealthy families with stores, then to robbing ordinary households who were getting by.

This was not speculation. Disaster victims who gathered in groups and became mobs were not few. Many small towns with only fence and hedge protection had been slaughtered by disaster victims. Under the premise of survival, people’s moral bottom lines lowered all too easily, and once some bottom lines were broken, they could never be recovered. Victims crazed with looting might at first only rob grain, but the robbed would resist. Resistance bred hatred. The disparity in living conditions bred indignation. Indignation bred rage.

Since they were fighting anyway, since they were killing anyway, why only rob grain?

Firewood, clothes, houses, women…

Most people in this world, after doing certain things, did not feel regret and pain for long, because to survive, people had to let their conscience rest easy. If conscience couldn’t rest easy, and they didn’t want to torment themselves, they had no choice but to discard their conscience. After discarding conscience, the world opened up in a different way.

Never mind those victims who had become mobs—even among these refugees who had fled to Gannan City, how many hadn’t abandoned something along the way?

The tea-selling old man said the Xuanqing Sect had saved him, his son, and his little grandson. Who knew if he had a granddaughter, but since he had a son, he must have had a wife. Where was his wife? Where was his daughter-in-law? Fleeing for so long, how had they survived?

Among those who survived fleeing, there were always more men than women, more able-bodied than old and young.

But these words could not be spoken—they could not become excuses for not saving people when facing these suffering disaster victims.

Famine was a disease. All who fell ill had a layer of skin stripped away, leaving only bare flesh to be scoured by wind and sand. You could sympathize with their pain, but you couldn’t show them that stripped-away skin again. Without seeing it, a person could endure the suffering and pain and live like a human. But if you showed it to them, they might no longer be able to remain human.

The newcomer in brocade accepted the tea bowl. Pale fingers seemed to emanate cold, and in an instant all heat was gone from the bowl. He sat at a table across from the Disciplinary Bureau, ignoring the silent Tao Xi, and looked toward the qin-carrying figure in dark green robes beside him. A pair of narrow eyes half-raised, revealing the lower half of distinct black pupils, projecting a sharp light.

“What do you think?”