Chapter 20: Hope

At the north gate of Mayi City, a crowd of robust men had gathered, their cheers echoing endlessly. For these Northern men, fighting was as common as eating or drinking. This was, after all, one of the most martial and fierce eras in Chinese history. In this border region, for any adult male, growing up without enduring his father’s fists or trading blows with others simply meant he wasn't a man.

Thus, Corporal Liu, having been alerted to the commotion, merely poked his head out of the guardhouse before retracting it. He took the opportunity to grab the tax official, who had been eager to go out and watch the spectacle. His intentions were genuine; whether those thugs outside were bullying the boy surnamed Li or just having some fun, it was best for someone like the tax official not to show his face. If those hot-headed youths grew annoyed, they wouldn't care about his status as a tax official—they would beat him until he cried for his parents, then scatter in all directions, leaving him with no one to hold accountable.

Before long, however, the noise began to subside. Moments later, the wooden door creaked, and Li Po slipped inside, completely unscathed. He wore his usual wide grin, dropped off some firewood at the guardhouse, and upon heading out, feigned a sudden realization. He tugged at Corporal Liu’s sleeve, gave a clay jar a deliberate shake, and pressed it into the man's arms.

"I’ll leave you to your trouble. I hope to take my men out of the city again tomorrow," Li Po said.

Corporal Liu had been somewhat surprised that the boy hadn't been beaten by those rough men, and then slightly annoyed by the familiarity of the physical contact. But upon hearing the clinking sound from the jar, he immediately understood. His eyes narrowed into a smile, and he even broke protocol by patting Li Po on the shoulder.

"No need to say more... well, the guard shift changes in a couple of days. I'll put in a word for you with them..."

"I am deeply grateful for your kindness."

This was the way of the world: favors were exchanged. To Corporal Liu, it might have been a casual remark, but to Li Po, it was a matter of life and death. Without returning to the camp to fetch help, Li Po carried and dragged four bundles of firewood back himself. He was drenched in cold sweat from the exertion; he had been eating very little meat, lacked salt, and had suffered from the biting cold for days. After fighting two rounds and then performing heavy labor, his physical weakness became apparent. It was only due to his sturdy constitution that he hadn't fallen ill. Still, his spirits were high.

Today, he had not only stretched his limbs but also gained some benefits; it was a stroke of good fortune. In the end, he had even given the few fish he caught to those men. Although the two who had lost the fight were sheepish, the others were jubilant. In the middle of winter, there was little entertainment, and they treated this as a bit of fun. He figured that once they returned, the two instigators would have a hard time, but they would likely never have the nerve to trouble Li Po at the gate again.

Back at the hut, Li Po sat down by the hearth and refused to move. He ordered Li Chun to call the others to collect the firewood. He had brought back quite a lot this time; even a little for each hut would be enough for them to spend a couple of warm days. Li Chun was reluctant, so Li Po slapped him on the head twice. He didn't explain to Li Chun that if everyone in the camp died, the survivors wouldn't fare much better. Moreover, after hearing about the conditions in other refugee camps, he strongly suspected that the officials of Mayi intended for them to freeze to death this winter. Such malicious intent would be unthinkable for an ordinary person, but Li Po wouldn't be the least bit surprised if it came from officials.

Of course, this was just his speculation, not a certainty. Yet, the facts were plain to see: dilapidated huts, two bowls of thin porridge a day, and being penned up like livestock. The Northern winter would make any creature that didn't take it seriously pay the price, and for the refugees, that meant lives being lost. If they just sat there, without stealing or fighting, no one would survive. Looking at the situation now, with winter still long and not yet at its coldest, everyone was already on their last breath. If this wasn't a deliberate attempt to kill them, what was?

Therefore, Li Po simply believed that the more people who survived, the better. Even if he were wrong, the benefits were clear: if he or Li Chun fell ill, there would be someone to look after them, right? Besides, the more people there were, the greater their strength, and the easier it would be to fight for their next meal. He couldn't explain these reasons to Li Chun, and there was no need to go into detail.

Even if he tried, Li Chun would never understand what it meant to watch lives fade away one by one, and what that did to those left behind. Despair would grip your heart, making it impossible to forget for the rest of your life. That night, flickering lights ignited throughout the refugee camp. There was a lot of smoke and a foul odor, but amidst the haze and fire, the entire camp exuded a sense of happiness. Those tiny flames symbolized hope—the hope of survival. By this time, Li Po had achieved a status where his word was law in this small refugee camp.

Exhausted, Li Po drifted into a deep sleep.

The next day, no matter how cold it was or how hard the wind blew, Li Po led his men out of the city. He remembered clearly that the guard rotation occurred every ten days. Not everyone guarding the gate would be as easy to talk to as Yuchi or Corporal Liu, and both he and the refugees needed to stockpile food.

Three days later, the guard shift changed as expected. The new Corporal was surnamed Mu—a name that sounded Hu in origin. Such peculiar surnames were usually transliterated from those of the Hu people, a result of various tribes in the North reverting to Han surnames during the Kaihuang era. This Corporal was short but had a booming voice and was said to be fond of both wine and women. Perhaps Corporal Liu hadn't broken his word, or perhaps Luo San had put in a good word; either way, this man was even easier to deal with than Corporal Liu.

The young tax official remained as well; it seemed he hadn't had enough of the city gate. Li Po later heard from others that he was quite lucky—because of that tax official, the county inspectors never once appeared at the north gate. One night, however, Corporal Mu got drunk and had a fight with the young tax official. Surprisingly, the tax official didn't hold back and gave the burly Corporal Mu a sound thrashing. For the rest of the rotation, the Corporal never stepped out of the guardhouse again. This brought great convenience to Li Po, though he still preferred dealing with the soldiers; men like the tax official, who only said a third of what was on their minds, always made him feel uneasy.

When time slowly drifted into the tenth month of the sixth year of the Daye era, Li Po's days of leading men out of the city to fish finally came to an end.