Chapter 2: 002: Opening Move — Snatch the Dog-Beating Staff

Zhao Han was in a daze, not fully awake, only aware of unbearable hunger and thirst.

In his stupor, his lips and teeth touched an earthenware jar, and he instinctively opened his mouth to drink.

Cold congee, gritty with mud and sand, poured into his stomach. It was enough to revive Zhao Han's spirits. He opened his eyes and saw a young girl lying beside him.

"Second Brother, you're awake?" Zhao Zhenfang's joyful smile was tinged with tears; her bewildered eyes instantly lit up with radiance.

"I…" Zhao Han tried to speak, but after just one word his throat felt as if it were tearing apart.

He tried to prop himself up, but felt utterly strengthless, as if crushed by a sleep paralysis demon. His mind was clearly awake, yet he could not control his body, couldn't even move a finger — it was as if everything below the neck no longer belonged to him.

Gradually, Zhao Han sank back into a stupor and slept.

Zhao Zhenfang was ravenous herself. She stayed by her brother's side, finished off the remaining watery congee, and even held the jar and licked it clean with her tongue until it shone.

At last, officials in the city of Tianjin organized men to cross the bridge and collect the corpses.

It was now the height of summer; if several hundred bodies were not dealt with, an epidemic could easily break out.

Those tasked with hauling the corpses were all officers and soldiers of Tianjin.

Because desertion among the troops was severe and the Tartars were growing powerful in Liaodong, a new Tianjin army had been formed in the final years of the Wanli reign.

This new army was organized under the battalion system, not part of the guard-station system, and was funded by the central treasury. Not counting coastal defense units like the "Zhenhai Battalion," there were over six thousand new army troops in and around Tianjin city, but in just over a decade, desertion had reduced them to a mere two or three thousand.

And of these two or three thousand new army soldiers, not a single one could fight. They had long since sunk to an existence little better than servants.

Furthermore, there were several thousand guard-station troops in various places around Tianjin, who had been hereditary serfs to their commanders for generations.

Inside and outside the city, nearly ten thousand government troops in the vicinity had been so terrified by a few dozen mounted bandits that they only now dared to come out.

"Little Five, this one's still breathing."

"Won't live. Drag him off to the mass grave with the rest."

"He's not wounded, just starved. Half a bowl of congee and he might pull through."

"You got congee to give him?"

"I can't even fill my own belly — where would I get congee for him?"

"Then what's the point of yapping?"

Alive or dead, they were all loaded onto flatbed carts and hauled to a nearby patch of waste burial ground for a crude covering.

After several trips back and forth, they finally reached the Zhao family's spot.

Zhao Zhenfang threw herself onto her father's corpse, shrieking, "Don't you touch my daddy!"

Seeing how young she was, one soldier couldn't help pitying her. "Ah, he's already gone. We'll bury your father for you."

Zhao Zhenfang shook her head. "Daddy's not dead. Daddy's just asleep."

The soldiers ignored her and turned to haul away the body of Madam Zhao née Chen.

"Mother!"

Zhao Zhenfang threw herself wildly at them again. The soldiers watched and shook their heads. Just two corpses — if the little girl wouldn't let them move them, it saved them the trouble.

Having barely managed to shield her parents' bodies, Zhao Zhenfang saw the soldiers heading toward her brother and shouted frantically, "That's my second brother!"

One soldier sighed. "So it's a whole family. A wretched sight."

The soldier beside him said, "This young fellow isn't dead — his chest is still moving."

The first soldier bent down and felt Zhao Han's forehead, then shook his head. "Burning up bad. He's down to his last breath."

The soldiers left the Zhao family alone and went to haul away other corpses. Night was falling, and this was their last trip; the hundred-plus bodies still remaining could wait until tomorrow.

The sun set in the west; the sky darkened into dusk.

Six-year-old Zhao Zhenfang's stomach was growling with hunger. She propped up her frail little body, dragged her second brother between their father and mother, and then silently kept watch, waiting for dawn.

Zhao Han was woken by hunger in the middle of the night, his head swimming, his belly hollow, every part of him utterly strengthless.

He struggled to his feet. By the dim moonlight, he could faintly make out the little girl beside him. She seemed famished — even in sleep she was curled into a ball, her small hands clutching her stomach.

This is my little sister, Zhao Han suddenly remembered.

No, that's wrong — I'm an only child. Where did a sister come from?

Zhao Han shook his muddled head and looked down at his clothes. He couldn't tell what material they were made of, but they felt rough to the touch and were covered in old patches everywhere. Even the mounted bandits hadn't bothered with clothes like these.

The first year of Chongzhen, a new emperor ascends the throne?

Zhao Han slumped to the ground, staring up at the brilliant ancient stars. The absurdity of it all was hard to accept.

He came from an ordinary family in New China and had always done fairly well in school. He had scraped into a key high school, but failed to get into a key university and had to settle for an ordinary undergraduate college.

Because he had dreamed of being a soldier since childhood, when he saw a recruitment banner at his university, Zhao Han resolutely enlisted and became a college-student soldier.

After two years of grueling training in the army, Zhao Han did not apply for officer candidacy, but instead left the service and returned to university to finish his degree.

Graduation was just around the corner. He had been weighing whether to apply for graduate school or take the civil service exam — so how had he ended up in ancient times?

And the first year of Chongzhen, no less!

The Chongzhen reign only lasted about seventeen years, if he remembered correctly. Zhao Han wasn't entirely sure, but the fall of the Ming dynasty was not far off anyway.

Zhao Han knew the broad outlines of late-Ming history, but had forgotten many of the details.

His major was Chinese Language and Literature. He had studied ancient literature, philology, and classical text studies, but unfortunately had never deeply researched ancient history.

His body was in terrible shape, and the high fever had yet to break. Zhao Han drifted off into sleep again.

In the morning, hunger woke him once more. Zhao Han crawled around searching the nearby corpses, but found no food at all.

The hundred-plus remaining corpses had already been searched several times over. To say nothing of money or grain, even the slightly better clothing had been stripped away by the soldiers tasked with collecting the dead.

But Zhao Han was ravenous beyond endurance, so hungry his eyes turned blood-red and his stomach ached as if slashed by knives, giving rise to an urge to gnaw human flesh.

Staring at those corpses, Zhao Han truly wanted to throw himself on them and take a few bites.

"Second Brother, I'm hungry…"

Zhao Zhenfang had woken at some point — perhaps from hunger, perhaps from the shock of the day before. Her spirit was utterly listless.

Zhao Han still remembered that during his moment of lucidity the day before, the little girl had fed him congee. Whether out of the familial attachment lingering in this body, or to repay her for saving his life, he was duty-bound to look after this sister. He immediately reassured her: "Don't be afraid. Second Brother will find you something to eat."

There was simply nothing to eat anywhere!

The nearby tree bark had long been stripped bare by the starving people, and even the wild grass along the riverbank had withered yellow. The canal water had mostly dried up, exposing the mud flats of the riverbed, cracked open into fissures as wide as a man's palm.

Zhao Han wanted to search for insects to get a little protein, but there was nothing at all except mosquitoes.

The ground was so parched it was hard to break open even with a hoe; earthworms and the like were out of the question.

Zhao Han picked up two broken shards of a clay pot, pulled his sister along to the middle of the official road, and tried to encounter passing travelers to beg for food.

After standing for only a few minutes, Zhao Han's body clearly could not hold out; he felt so light and insubstantial that a gust of wind might blow him away. He simply went with it, knelt down, and put on a pitiful act.

Zhao Zhenfang suddenly warned, "Second Brother, Father said that a true man in this world kneels only to Heaven, Earth, the sovereign, his parents, and his teacher — not to beg for whatever whatever food."

"Food handed out in contempt," Zhao Han corrected.

Zhao Zhenfang said, "Right, that's it — food handed out in contempt."

Zhao Han asked in return, "Then did Father ever say that a true man should be able to bend and stretch?"

Zhao Zhenfang shook her head.

Zhao Han sighed and said, "Standing is stretching; kneeling is bending. Kneeling now is so that we can still stand later. Kneel. Anyway, we don't have the strength to stand steady. Let's just treat it as kneeling to rest."

The brother and sister knelt side by side on the official road, each holding a broken clay pot in their hands, as the morning sun slowly rose.

After about two quarters of an hour, a merchant caravan came out from the city. Because the canal had dried up and boats could hardly travel, they had switched to mules and horses to carry goods northward.

Zhao Han, who had never had any experience begging, saw the caravan drawing nearer and hurriedly knelt up straight, raising the clay pot in his hands.

But he did not utter a single word; in the end, he was too embarrassed to open his mouth and beg.

"Get out of the way, don't block the road!"

The one who spoke was an armed escort guarding the goods. Thanks to the rapid growth of commerce and the realm being none too peaceful, the escort business had flourished increasingly over the past few decades.

Zhao Han still held the clay pot high. A sturdy escort came over, grabbed him and his sister by their collars, and tossed them to the roadside like a pair of chickens.

Bearing the pain, Zhao Han climbed up, completely cast aside his shame, knelt on the ground, and cried out, "Kind sirs, have mercy and give us a little something to eat!"

No one answered; they all looked but did not see. The long caravan passed right before them.

Not long after, another column came from Tianjin city. This time, because the canal had dried up and water transport of grain had been cut off, and the court was pressing them relentlessly, the tribute grain was being transferred overland.

Those soldiers and civilians transporting the grain were dressed just as shabbily as Zhao Han; some had nothing more than a loincloth, pushing and pulling the grain carts forward under the blazing sun.

The Assistant Regional Commander in charge of the grain transport, however, looked sleek and well-fed, riding a sturdy horse at his leisure, from time to time taking out a waterskin to drink a few mouthfuls to quench his thirst. He was also accompanied by two hundred household retainers, fully armored, with no fear of small bands of bandits stealing the grain.

"Second Brother, I'm hungry."

Zhao Zhenfang was both hungry and thirsty, and being directly exposed to the sun, she was already weak and feeble, soon slipping into a semi-conscious state.

Soldiers from Tianjin came out of the city again to collect corpses. Zhao Han did not stop them; he watched as they carried away his parents' bodies.

This body was only ten years old. Zhao Han struggled to lift his sister onto his back, but after several attempts he was so exhausted that his knees buckled and he knelt down.

He was too hungry; he simply had no strength!

Finally, Zhao Han lay prostrate on the ground and said to Zhao Zhenfang, "Little Sister, crawl onto Second Brother's back. We're going into the city to get something to eat."

Zhao Han lay on the ground, and his little sister lay on his back. Just like that, he carried her and crawled toward Tianjin, like two wild dogs dragging themselves along in wretchedness.

Begging in the city might go more smoothly.

The fundamental thing right now was not to make any long-term plans, but to fill their bellies and stay alive first.

Tianjin city was built at the confluence of three rivers; one had to cross the canal to reach the moat.

Over twenty years ago, Tianjin suffered a great flood, and the north and south city walls collapsed for over seventy zhang. Even now, the authorities had no money to repair the city walls.

Because the canal water had dried up, large numbers of boats were stranded, and tribute grain and commercial goods urgently needed overland transfer. Therefore, a temporary wooden bridge had now been erected over the North Canal, where there had been no bridge before. The authorities, fearing that refugees and bandits would cross the river, had soldiers guarding the bridge, and had also set up chevaux-de-frise and other equipment.

Carrying his sister on his back, Zhao Han had with great difficulty crawled to the canal bridge when a soldier guarding it kicked him over with one foot. "Get lost! Where did you beggar brats come from!"

Nearly fainting from hunger, Zhao Han could not muster any anger. He only helped his little sister, who had fallen, and squeezed out an ingratiating smile. "Kind soldier sir, do us a good turn and let us cross to beg for a mouthful of food."

That soldier laughed for no apparent reason, put his hands behind his back, and spread his legs. "You can cross the bridge — crawl through my legs."

Zhao Han fell silent. His eyes went red, his fists clenched tight, then loosened again.

Suddenly an officer came over, pushed aside the soldier who was deliberately making trouble, and cursed, "Wei Si, you wretch, what kind of hero bullies children?"

Wei Si chuckled and said, "Old Liu, I was just joking with them."

Old Liu glanced at Zhao Han and his sister and ordered, "Let them pass. Whether they live or die depends on their own luck."

Zhao Han mustered all his strength to stand up, and drawing on the residual memories of this time and space, he cupped his hands and bowed, saying, "May I presume to ask my benefactor's honored name? If my sister and I can survive, we will surely repay this kindness in days to come, even if it means tying grass and carrying rings."

Old Liu, seeing that Zhao Han's courtesy was complete, actually returned the salute with equal gravity. "So it's a young gentleman fallen on hard times. My name is Liu Mang, a small squad leader in the Tianjin New Army."

"I will remember my benefactor's great name. May we meet again someday if fate allows." Zhao Han squatted down with immense effort, lay prostrate on the ground again, and let his weak and feeble little sister hold on as she lay on his back. Then, like a dog, he slowly crawled forward.

Squad Leader Liu thought for a moment, fished out a few copper coins, and held them out to Zhao Han. "Take these and buy some food."

"Thank you, benefactor." Zhao Han was overjoyed.

He had cupped his hands, bowed, and spoken in that refined manner precisely to attract the other party's attention, and now, luckily, it had produced some effect.

As the brother and sister slowly crawled away, Wei Si said, "Old Liu, why did you give them money? Those two little ones are so hungry they can't even walk; they have to crawl just to get into the city. Even if they eat their fill today, they'll starve to death tomorrow."

Squad Leader Liu watched the siblings cross the bridge and sighed. "My own son and daughter are about that age. I just want some peace of mind. This world... ah!"

Although Tianjin city was built along the river, there was still some distance between the city wall and the canal. Outside the walls on all four sides, there were large numbers of illegal dwellings, which had even formed streets and markets.

Especially outside the north city, where the North Canal docks were located — shops stood in rows, extraordinarily bustling, and the north moat had even become an inner river of the dock district.

Carrying his sister on his back, Zhao Han crawled into the streets and alleys outside the city, following the scent of food all the way.

Arriving in front of a pastry stall, Zhao Han paused to catch his breath and recover for a while. He tried to stand but his legs gave way and he fell. In the end, he could only kneel on the ground, holding out those few copper coins, and said, "Food."

Due to the decline of Spain, a silver crisis had emerged in the late Ming.

Silver currency was deflating, copper cash was inflating, and copper coins were becoming more and more worthless.

On top of that, it was a time of famine, and grain prices were terribly high. These few wen could only buy coarse-grain steamed buns.

The stall owner took the copper coins, stuffed a steamed bun into Zhao Han's hand, and waved him off with a look of disgust. "Go eat somewhere farther away, don't hinder my business."

"Th... thank you."

Zhao Han forced a smile in return, holding the steamed bun in his mouth as he carried his little sister and crawled back toward the street corner.

Before they even reached the corner, several beggars suddenly rushed out, snatched the bun, and snarled viciously, "Begging for food in Tianjin — have you paid your respects to the wharf boss? This bun counts as your initiation fee. From now on, you owe five cash a day. No money, then you pay in food. That's the only way you're allowed to beg on Wharf North Street."

Kneeling to plead, being kicked and trampled, even forced to crawl through men's legs — to stay alive, Zhao Han had endured it all.

But now, having scraped together food at last, only to be bullied by a pack of beggars — Zhao Han finally exploded completely. He set his sister down, staggered to his feet, and roared, "Give it back!"

"You son of a whore, can't even stand steady, and you dare play tough with your grandpa?" The beggar leader stuck out a foot and tripped Zhao Han with effortless ease.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

The other beggars burst into loud laughter. They were the very dregs of society, despised and abused all day long, and could only find amusement in tormenting those even weaker than themselves.

Zhao Han was already dizzy from hunger; by now he was seeing double. Unable to stand again, he crawled forward with all his strength, grabbed the beggar leader's ankle, and said, "The bun — give it back!"

"Get lost!"

With one foot seized, the beggar leader lifted his other foot and stomped on Zhao Han's head as if crushing an ant.

"Don't you hit my second brother!"

Suddenly, Zhao Zhenfang, faint from starvation and nearly unconscious, lunged forward and bit the beggar leader's leg.

"Aiyo!"

The beggar leader yelped in pain and kicked Zhao Zhenfang away.

Seizing the moment while his opponent balanced on one leg, Zhao Han summoned his last reserves of strength, grabbed the beggar leader's ankle, and wrenched it upward with a desperate heave.

"Ah!"

The beggar leader toppled backward, his head slamming against the ground, and lay there stunned and dizzy from the fall.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

The other beggars were still watching the show, never imagining that two children could pose any real threat to their boss.

Some passersby had also stopped, cheerfully spectating the beggar brawl, pointing and gesturing now and then for their own amusement.

"Huff, huff, huff…"

Zhao Han's breath came in ragged gasps. Before the man could recover, he had already crawled on top of the beggar leader, aimed at his filth-caked neck, and bitten down.

"Let go! Let go right now!"

The beggar leader struggled in panic, so terrified he forgot to call for help from his companions, only shouting and trying to shove Zhao Han off.

The other beggars finally stopped standing around. They kicked, punched, and yanked at Zhao Han. Zhao Zhenfang threw herself into the fray to help but was kicked away.

Zhao Han clung to the beggar leader, biting down with a death grip, refusing to let go. He bit through the man's windpipe, bit through his artery. The blood flowing into his mouth did not disgust him — on the contrary, driven by the hunger and thirst in his belly, he instinctively sucked and swallowed the blood in a frenzy.

At last, the beggar leader stopped moving.

His mouth a mess of blood and shredded flesh, Zhao Han turned his head and grinned savagely at the crowd.

"Murder!"

Bystanders cried out in alarm.

The other beggars froze for a moment, then, with no thought of avenging their boss, grabbed their dog-beating sticks and broken bowls and fled.

Zhao Han picked the steamed bun up off the ground, tore it forcefully in two, stuffed one half into his own mouth, and handed the other to his little sister. "Eat!"

Zhao Zhenfang had no mind for anything else. She seized the bun and wolfed it down.

Zhao Han finished his half of the mixed-grain bun, then wiped the blood from his mouth with his sleeve. The whole scene looked exactly as if he had been eating raw human flesh.

A man had been killed in the open street, yet no one went to report it to the authorities.

Just one dead beggar — was there a single day in Tianjin city when someone didn't starve to death?

Zhao Han recovered a little strength. Under the gaze of the crowd, he began searching the beggar leader's corpse, but found not a single coin or item of value.

He picked up the man's dog-beating stick, leaned on it to struggle upright, and supported his little sister. "Come on, your second brother will find us a place to spend the night."

Zhao Zhenfang clutched a small piece of the bun, still unable to bring herself to eat it, and followed silently at Zhao Han's side.

After only a few steps, both siblings grew dizzy and faint, so they dropped down again and crawled forward.

The onlooking crowd parted to make way, clearing a path and watching them go.

This start wasn't too miserable — at least he'd gotten his hands on a dog-beating stick.

(End of chapter)