Chapter 269: Survivors

"Then I'm the Wu Lin Alliance's Lin Mengzhu," suddenly, a small head popped out from between the two of them, only reaching a little above the two children's waists, looking about two or three years old, and he too planted his hands on his hips, tilted his head back, and laughed "Ha ha ha" eight times.

It really was only eight times—Pan Yun had counted carefully.

She silently looked at the three children and asked, "Who taught you to laugh like that?"

The big child asked with a solemn face, "Are you scared?"

Pan Yun: "No, I want to beat you up."

Pan Yun stuffed the pulled-up rice stalks into Seeing Miao Zhen's hands, rolled up her sleeves, and went up to beat them. "Can you talk properly? Can you talk properly?"

The three children wailed and howled, kicking and hitting Pan Yun hard, but the legs they kicked out only struck air, and the hands they swung couldn't land on her either, making the three children even more aggrieved.

They got tired of fighting, and Pan Yun got tired of fighting too; each side stopped.

Only the three children were lying sprawled on the ground, while Pan Yun stood with her hands on her hips.

She nudged the big child's bottom with her toe and asked, "Are you from Shuangyang Village?"

The big child: "So what if we are?"

"Nothing, just asking—who's in charge of your Shuangyang Village now? We're here to deliver charity, who do we talk to?"

The big child sat up from the ground, stared at her with big round eyes, then looked at Seeing Miao Zhen and Miao He behind her. "Are you really here to help us?"

"Would I lie? Look over there, see it? Three carts, all the things we brought."

The big child stood up on tiptoe to look, and after a long while finally spotted three carts crawling slowly along a road.

But that was the main road—it could lead to their village, or to Huaihua Village...

Just as he thought this, he saw the carts turn at the intersection and head toward them.

The big child was stunned for a moment, then said, "The one in charge of our village now is Licentiate Chen. I'll take you to find him."

Pan Yun asked, "How old is Licentiate Chen?"

She had to prepare in advance for the state she'd face him in—should it be lofty and all-compassionate, saving suffering beings; or sweet and adorable, soft-hearted and kind; or unfathomably profound investor mode...

The big child: "About the same as my dad."

Pan Yun looked at the big child, estimated his age, then asked, "How old is your dad?"

A father's age range could be very wide—he could be a young father, or he could have had a child late in life.

The big child struggled for a moment, then said, "Twenty-something, I guess. No one told me how old my dad is."

Pan Yun nodded and continued asking, "Who else is in Licentiate Chen's family?"

"No one left. It's just him in his house. Grandpa Chen, Grandma Chen, Aunt Chen, little sister Tao Hua—they were all killed by the Japanese pirates."

Pan Yun's faint smile collapsed, and she fell silent.

The big child continued, "Little sister Tao Hua was sick, so Licentiate Chen went to the county town to buy medicine for her, and that's how he escaped the disaster."

Pan Yun asked him, "How did you escape?"

The big child's eyes filled with tears. He sniffed and said, "I was playing hide-and-seek with them and fell asleep in the straw pile."

Climbing up the ridge, they reached Shuangyang Village.

The village was very quiet—no barking dogs, no crowing roosters, no quacking ducks, not even the sound of people.

Looking around, several houses had been scorched black, some half-collapsed. Seeing them look at those houses, the big child said, "The Japanese pirates burned them. Couldn't be saved, and anyway everyone was dead, so later we didn't bother trying."

There were also intact houses, but not a trace of life in them.

On the yellow mud walls were dark red, dried bloodstains—some sprayed in streaks, some in large patches. Pan Yun could even make out human shapes on some of the walls; clearly someone had leaned against the wall and died.

There was blood on the road they walked too, but it had already dried, and people walking over it wouldn't really get any on them.

The little child bounced along at the very front, leading the way, his bare little feet stepping right over patch after patch of blood without the slightest scruple.

The big child, seeming afraid they'd mind, pointed to the grassy path below the stone road and said, "You can walk down there, you can't see the bloodstains from here."

Seeing Miao Zhen softly began chanting the "Scripture of the Supreme Lord's Salvation from Suffering," and stepped lightly across the stones.

Pan Yun lowered her eyes to glance at that grass—even though the bloodstains were almost invisible, she knew there were no fewer there than on the stones, only more.

"How many people died in your village?"

The big child: "The government office won't let us say. If you ask, we say eleven people died."

Pan Yun gave a cold laugh. "What a precise number. Then how many do you yourselves know it really was?"

The big child's voice dropped low, and he pressed down the sob in his throat as he said softly, "Counting Aunt Qin, Third Aunt, and the baby in Sister Brother Xiao Hua's belly, it's three hundred and nine in total. Licentiate Chen said we have to remember this number, and that later we'll erect a stele and record all their names on it. When we have the ability in the future, we'll settle the score with them, every last one."

The three of them quickly reached the center of the village, where there was finally a little sign of life—sounds of people talking, and cooking smoke.

The little child had already run out of sight, but in a short while came back dragging a very old man out with him.

He strained to open his eyes, looked at Pan Yun and Seeing Miao Zhen and Miao He, and said slowly, "Where did you children come from? It's almost dark, hurry home now."

Pan Yun glanced at the old man, and in the end did not untie the wooden tablet at her waist, but instead cupped her fists and bowed deeply: "Greetings, elder. The three of us, poor Daoists, have some things to deliver to Shuangyang Village."

The old man looked at Pan Yun in surprise, leaned closer to look at her, and said, "Did you shout?"

Pan Yun smiled and shook her head. "I didn't shout."

The old man was astonished. "If you didn't shout, how come I heard you clearly? Oh my, my ears are better!"

The big child was surprised: "Really? Third Great-grandpa, then tell us what she said?" The old man: "What did you say?"

The big child: "..."

He put both hands around his mouth and shouted loudly by the old man's ear: "Third Great-grandpa, did you hear what she said?"

The old man slapped him. "Don't shout in my ear, I heard you. Isn't she just saying she wants to deliver things to Shuangyang Village? Little miss, what is it you want to deliver?"

Pan Yun: "Grain, medicinal herbs, cloth, cotton, books, and the four treasures of the study..."

She paused, then said, "And money."

The old man nodded. "Quite a variety, but I wonder what the quantities are?"

Pan Yun said, "It should be enough to see you through this winter."

The old man beamed: "Good, good! There are still plenty of good people in this world. Zhu Zi, hurry and go find Licentiate Chen. Great benefactors have come to our village, we must entertain them properly."

The older child muttered as he walked, "I'm not Zhu Zi, my name is Zuwang, Zhu Zi is dead…"

But he kept his voice very low, not letting the old man hear.

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The old man took Pan Yun's hand and led her into the courtyard, asking with a smile, "Miss, did you come alone?"

Miao He leaned in and said, "We're here too."

The old man squinted to look at Miao He. "Oh my, I thought you were the village chief's fat daughter. So you're not. You two came together?"

Pan Yun: "…Elder, this poor Daoist counts three."

The elder said, "Oh, the road you came on was flat, no bumps at all."

Pan Yun raised an eyebrow, glanced at the elder, and nodded crisply. "Correct."

The elder sat Pan Yun down and asked with a smile, "Child, you're a kind-hearted good person. There aren't many good people like you these days."

Pan Yun nodded.

"Those people who do good deeds always want something in return. In the words of the Licentiate, it's fishing for fame and reputation. Anyone can see you're not that kind of person."

Pan Yun nodded. "When I do good deeds, it's mainly because my conscience is uneasy, and secondarily because I want your grateful hearts."

The old man's words faltered, nearly losing his rhythm, but an old ginger is still the spiciest. He quickly glossed over Pan Yun's words, held her little hand, and asked about her background. "From your accent, Miss, you're not from around here?"

Pan Yun: "I'm a Jiang Xiren."

The elder: "Doesn't sound quite like it either."

"Then I must have traveled far and wide, making my accent sound like nothing in particular."

The old man felt there wasn't a single truthful word coming out of her mouth.

Pan Yun hated being asked about her accent the most. She had already been trying hard to avoid any connection to Jingcheng. What, did they want her to say, my family used to live in Jingcheng, but because of misfortune we fled to Jiangxi?

"You sent grain, cloth, and cotton, and also money. Does your family agree to it?"

Pan Yun: "This poor Daoist is already self-reliant and can make her own decisions."

The elder: "How old are you?"

Pan Yun: "Not young anymore. In three more years I'll be the age Gan Luo became Prime Minister."

Seeing Miao Zhen and Miao He sat to one side, propping up their chins, listening to an old and a young one chatter, and their little martial uncle was not the least outdone.

The old man finally couldn't hold back and asked directly, "Miss spends so much money doing good deeds—what's the aim?"

Pan Yun: "Peace of mind."

After a pause she said, "People have a heart of compassion. Seeing the suffering of all beings, one cannot help but feel pity. If I don't act, my heart won't be at ease. Spending some money is all. If you can get through this temporary hardship, my heart will be settled too."

The old man looked at her in surprise.

"What a heart of compassion."

Pan Yun followed the sound and saw a thin, down-and-out young man leaning on the courtyard wall as he walked in.

The older child supported his other arm. His face was full of illness, his complexion and lips both pale and colorless.

After observing his appearance, Pan Yun turned to look at Miao He.

Miao He had already sat up straight and frowned. "This person is Become very heavy."

The young man glanced at Miao He, looked back at Pan Yun, smiled, freed himself from the child, and bowed to Pan Yun. "Three benefactors, I am Chen Jian. On behalf of the villagers of Shuangyang Village, I thank the three of you for your kindness."

Pan Yun and the other two rose and returned the courtesy. Seeing how he looked as if about to topple over, she couldn't help but sigh. "Licentiate Chen, you'd better treat your illness first."

Licentiate Chen smiled and nodded. "I've already taken medicine. Thank the three benefactors for your concern. May I ask where the things you brought are?"

"My senior brother and senior sister are driving a cart behind us. They'll be here shortly."

No sooner had the words fallen than the sounds of children chasing and fighting rose outside. A child ran over quickly. "Third Grandfather, Third Grandfather, a cart is here, a cart is here…"

The voices were so loud that people in the other houses heard them too, and one after another people came carrying kitchen knives and wooden clubs.

Pan Yun swept a glance and saw that, apart from two men leaning on crutches and three middle-aged women, basically everyone was a child under fourteen.

Her gaze swept past—the entire village numbered no more than thirty people.

Licentiate Chen watched her expression and said with a smile, "Twenty-eight people survived in the village. Three young men couldn't stand it and have already left the village. Now twenty-five remain. Apart from the seven adults among us, the other eighteen are all children. May I ask how the benefactor intends to do good?"

(End of chapter)