Chapter 59: Refugees Enter Yunan

The Miscellaneous Storage Room was cleared out by Yuan Jinshi and Licentiate Yuan.

Though the two brothers are young, they did the work extremely meticulously.

They didn't overlook even the dust in the corners, and they reorganized the roof tiles as well.

Children from poor families become heads early; their situation is far more miserable than the usual definition of poverty.

"Go attend to your tasks and take the intestines away." Chen Wuji said, looking at the newly refreshed Miscellaneous Storage Room, very satisfied.

In such living conditions, if the Flying Squirrels are any more picky, they simply don't deserve to live.

Yuan Jinshi, pulling Licentiate Yuan, suddenly bowed low to Chen Wuji, his back arched so high that his spine resembled a camel hump.

"Stop this mess and hurry back." Chen Wuji said, gesturing with his hand as he turned aside.

He could not bear seeing these two youths in a dire, near‑drowning plight, yet he truly disliked being thanked.

He acted at his own ease, without seeking any particular outcome.

Yuan Jinshi grinned, "Brother Wuji, from now on, whenever there's work at home, you can command the two of us to the death."

"Got it, got it, let's go."

Yuan Jinshi and Licentiate Yuan only then lifted the intestines they had washed through the night, their faces bearing an unmistakable smile as they left.

For that bit of intestines, the brothers worked by moonlight until near dawn.

Because they couldn't see clearly, they feared it wasn't clean and washed it repeatedly; after getting up in the morning they inspected it again before bringing it over, yet they didn't expect Chen Wuji to give that mouthful of good meat back to them again.

Chen Wuji didn't know that, in the young hearts of the two boys, his status had risen as high as Shenxian Ling.

They even imagined him as a servant.

Yet the brothers discussed all night, not daring to tell Chen Wuji, fearing rejection.

And all this stemmed from half a slab of wild boar meat bought for a single coin.

Chen Wuji placed five Flying Squirrels into their new home, tossed in a few pine cones, and found a stone trough to hold water.

After finishing everything, he stood outside and looked, feeling that keeping these tree‑dwelling critters like pigs seemed inappropriate, so he went out again, fetched a sturdy tree stump and placed it inside, simply simulating a forest feel.

Huo Sanniang and Shen Youwei watched attentively from the side, their eyes sparkling with affection.

Probably no woman dislikes such cute, silly, adorable things.

It seemed that, in their eyes, the house wasn't raising livestock but five little pets.

"These little fellows are yours from now on; you don't need to clean the waste promptly. The Five Spirit Fat that mixes urine and feces should fetch a higher price and weigh more per jin," Chen Wuji instructed.

Huo Sanniang and Shen Youwei nodded repeatedly.

In this home, there was finally something they could do, which made them very happy.

"Husband, we will certainly take good care of them," Shen Youwei sweetly replied, then asked puzzledly, "Shouldn't dry, loose Five Spirit Fat be better? Why is the one mixed with urine more expensive?"

"The effect is good!" Chen Wuji laughed, "But that's just my guess; when I return from the city today, I'll know for sure."

He spoke of these things based on later market trends; the exact situation in Da Yu remains unclear.

After a quick breakfast, Chen Wuji set off.

Today he was alone; Huo Sanniang thought Chen Wuji was now basically normal, unlikely to lose his way after leaving home, so she didn't follow him and instead decided to weave hemp cloth at home with Shen Youwei.

Chen Wuji was alone today, and his load was light—only about ten jin of Five Spirit Fat.

He slung a satchel over his shoulder and, with a light carriage, headed to Yunan City.

Shopkeeper She should, in principle, also buy Five Spirit Fat, but Chen Wuji still thought Ciji Zhai might be more dependable.

Eggs can't just be stuffed headfirst into one basket; you have to try other baskets as well.

As the sun rose higher, the low city walls of Yunan City finally came into view.

Today's Yunan City differed from before; many rag‑clad people gathered outside the city.

On both sides of the Official Road, many people knelt—old and young, men and women alike.

Some held broken bowls, crying out "pity, pity," begging for kindness.

Some had straw rods stuck in their collars, proclaiming they could endure hardship, do any work, and that they were "girls who came" as a selling point.

The majority were parents selling their children, and there were also men selling women.

The idiom "pinning a label and selling a head" was first heard by Chen Wuji from Guan Erye, but he had never seen what the actual practice looked like.

Seeing it today, this literal idiom no longer concerned positive or negative connotations, but suffering.

Chen Wuji glanced around and quickened his steps toward the city gate.

Anyone who has come from the modern world would probably find this scene unbearable to watch.

Unfortunately, he himself was still a person mired in the mire, with no strength to help these people; watching further would only choke his heart.

These people's origins were unknown, but surely their hometowns had suffered disaster, making life impossible, forcing them to flee.

Because of these Refugees, Yunan City's defenses were especially stringent today.

In the past there were only two lazy low‑rank guards; today, Clerks and Yamen officers were packed tightly, and not far away stood Provincial Troops wielding spears.

However, as a native, Chen Wuji faced no trouble entering the city gate; the Clerk merely checked, asked briefly where he was from and who the Village Chief was, then let him pass.

Once inside, Chen Wuji did not linger and headed straight for Ciji Zhai.

With so many refugees at the city gate, the Official Road would become unsafe; he hurried to finish his business and return, seeing no need to waste time.

At the old main gate of Ciji Zhai, Zhang Lao had placed a couch at the entrance, reclining diagonally in the shade, sleeping soundly, completely ignoring the passersby on the street.

His behavior was singular for the era, as if he had returned all notions of propriety to his former teacher, seeming not to care at all how the townsfolk perceived him.

Seeing his demeanor, Chen Wuji couldn't help recalling the urban villages of a few years ago, when the big clean‑ups were not yet harsh.

In his hometown's urban village there was a lantern‑goods street; few shops sold lanterns, yet they were lined up one after another.

The scantily clad women, like Zhang Lao now, would bring a sofa to the doorway, sit, repeatedly beckon passersby, or deliberately sway their hips.

At this moment, Zhang Lao's waist was strikingly seductive.

His sleeping posture even had a name—it was the Five Dragon Coiling Body Technique, a Daoist inner alchemy practice.

The Dao and medicine overlap in many respects, and Chen Wuji is fairly familiar with these matters.

The cultivation method belongs to the old Daoist, but on this street it is somewhat out of place.

"Sir, a client has arrived!"

Chen Wuji stepped forward and greeted politely.

The old man hadn't even opened his eyes when a feather duster fell onto Chen Wuji's head, "Receiving guests? You little rabbit brat, you dare to tease an old man—prepare to be beaten."

"Wrong, wrong, I said it's a visitor arriving," Chen Wuji shouted.