Chapter Twelve: The Desolate Village

After a moment of silence, Zhao Mu and Huang Wan decided to continue upriver along the Fengshui River.

Although Taiping County had not suffered severe damage, it was still a small town located near the barbarian tribes, so few refugees headed there.

Therefore, if they went to Taiping County, they might find a temporary place to stay.

Once this great disaster had passed, they would figure out how to move to other relatively fertile regions.

Traveling along the Fengshui River, the two did not lack food along the way.

After walking over a hundred miles, they finally came upon a village that had long been abandoned.

Seeing the disorderly village, Zhao Mu felt a pang of unease.

Though Taiping County had not been seriously affected by the disaster, barbarians often raided the area, leaving many villages nearly deserted.

The irony was that from his past memories, Zhao Mu knew that while many villages around Taiping County were nearly empty, life inside Taiping itself remained lively with song and dance.

Though Da Qi was hostile to those barbarians, many people still took risks to engage in illicit trade with them.

As the city closest to the grasslands, Taiping County was originally intended by Da Qi’s founding emperor to be a forward base for attacking the barbarians and reclaiming lost lands.

Yet now, it had become a hub for unlawful merchants.

Empty villages outside, festivity inside Taiping—this was a bitter irony.

Zhao Mu wandered through the village, which was filled with collapsed walls and cobwebs. Fortunately, it was daytime; entering at night might have made them mistake the place for a haunt of ghosts.

“Let’s stay here for the night,” Zhao Mu sighed. Though dilapidated, it at least offered shelter from the wind and rain.

He had been sleeping outdoors all along and was exhausted from constant travel.

Luckily, it hadn’t rained; a single autumn rain in this disastrous year could cost many lives.

Huang Wan nodded and quickly tidied up a relatively sturdy house.

Zhao Mu didn’t idle either; he took his fishing net to the riverbank and began casting it while no one was around.

Perhaps his earlier good fortune had run out—he cast several nets without catching a single fish.

After more than half an hour, he finally returned to the village with two fish.

Upon returning, the house had been transformed.

Though still run-down, it was much cleaner.

Only the faintest trace of life was missing to make it feel like a true home.

Zhao Mu felt a warmth in his heart as he carried the fish to the kitchen.

The previous owners had apparently left in a hurry, leaving many belongings behind.

In the kitchen, Zhao Mu found an iron pot and a pile of chopped firewood.

While Zhao Mu went fishing, Huang Wan had already cleaned the iron pot.

He fetched a wooden bucket and drew water from the river, wary of the village well’s water quality since no one had lived there for some time.

He prepared one fish and started a fire.

Though he called it cooking, he was merely stewing the fish.

Apart from the fish, they had no other food.

After placing the fish in the pot, Zhao Mu wandered the village again.

Having finally found a village, he wanted to search for any resources he could use.

Or perhaps some grain left behind by the fleeing villagers.

However, after looking through just two households, he returned disappointed.

Though many items had been left behind, most were of no use to him.

What he urgently needed—grain and various seasonings—were nowhere to be found.

In truth, what he needed most was salt.

After more than ten days of traveling, he had rarely been hungry but had never replenished his salt intake.

The fish contained a small amount of salt, but it was like a drop in the ocean, insufficient for his daily needs.

He was already showing slight symptoms of blurred vision and weakness in his limbs; if delayed much longer, he might develop hyponatremia.

Returning somewhat dejected, Huang Wan had ladled out the fish broth.

Zhao Mu held the large bowl, his heart heavy.

Seeing his troubled expression, Huang Wan hesitated before producing a small porcelain bottle from her bosom.

The bottle was tiny—like those used in Zhao Mu’s past life dramas for holding pills or poison.

But this one was far more exquisite.

Placed a few thousand years later, it might fetch a high price.

Just as Zhao Mu wondered why she had brought out such a bottle, Huang Wan opened its stopper and sprinkled something over the fish broth.

Zhao Mu was stunned as he noticed the substance.

Salt!

The bottle contained salt—fine salt!

Ancient salt production was limited; common folk usually consumed coarse salt.

Only the wealthy and noble could afford fine salt.

Zhao Mu looked at Huang Wan in amazement, his curiosity about her origins growing.

But she said nothing, and he did not press.

They were mere companions by chance, likely to part ways once safe.

He did not blame her for only now producing the fine salt.

Such a small bottle contained very limited salt.

In other words, it was meant for saving lives, not daily use.

“Thank you,” Zhao Mu said hurriedly, stirring the bowl to dissolve the salt into the broth.

Though already full of fish meat, the added salt made the broth taste much fresher.

Without caring for appearances, Zhao Mu drank the fish broth in one go, even licking the bones clean.

After eating his fill, he asked, “Shall we go out and see if there’s anything useful?”

Huang Wan nodded without refusal.

Together, they searched the village again.

Though still unable to find grain or seasonings, they found several pieces of clothing and bedding left behind.

Zhao Mu also discovered two rusty old woodcutting knives.

Back at the house, he took a stone and began sharpening the knives.

The sharp grinding sound echoed as dusk fell.

Outside the village, several men suddenly looked over.

“Boss, that house is smoking—there’s someone there!” A sharp-faced man eagerly reported to a burly companion.

The others stopped and all looked toward the smoke.

“Boss, it’s really smoking!”

“I’m starving—I can finally eat tonight!”

“If only there was a woman too.”