The group of eight people rode along an unfamiliar road towards Lao-Da village. As a warm breeze blew through Chinua, she recalled a time she'd walked this way; there were no rivers or roads in the vast desert then. But now, a single road and water channels stretched through the dry land. Looking at the scene, her heart quickly filled with happiness. She'd never imagined that a simple idea, conceived while watching bathwater flow, would lead to such a great improvement.
The dry land, once a problem for many, was transformed into a path that anyone could walk on without worrying about not having enough water for themselves or their animals. Seeing the pavilions built along the roadside, she felt even more proud of the villagers' transformation.
When the sun reached its highest point, Chinua looked up and saw the roofs of three pavilions. Turning to Khenbish, she said, "Let's rest."
Khenbish raised his head, then looked back at the man riding behind them. "Let's go to the pavilions," he agreed, "and take a rest."
As the eight people approached the rest stop, they found the three pavilions were already occupied, inside and out. Looking at the travelers, they knew these must be nearby villagers heading to Lao-Da Village, displaced by the flood.
Not far from the villagers, a group of twelve stood in a circle, discussing their next steps. They had run out of food. Worse, their children and elderly were now very weak, unable to continue their journey for more than two more days.
"We don't know how far from here to the village," Cong said worriedly. "I heard others say it will take three days, but we have been walking for four days and all we see are these pavilions."
"Do you think the Lao-Da village was affected by the flood, and the people moved away?" asked a second man.
"Hey, look!" a third man exclaimed. He saw Chinua and her group approaching the pavilions. "Maybe they can tell us."
Others also looked in the direction the man pointed. One of them said, "Look at what they're wearing, they're soldiers. Do you really think the soldiers will give us the right direction?"
Cong turned to look at the vulnerable members of his group—the women, children, and elderly. He knew that asking directions from Tanggolian soldiers was not ideal. But their weary state gave him no other choice. He had to take the risk.
"Maybe not all Magoli soldiers are bad," Cong said. "Folks say the Southern General is kind. Maybe these are his soldiers." He took a step forward, but a young man held his hand.
"Cong, let's not ask," pleaded the younger man. "We should fend for ourselves. They... they might hit you."
Cong looked at his pregnant wife and elderly parents. He knew they had no food, and the villagers could not survive on water alone. He slowly pulled the young man's hand away and said, "If after they beat me, they can point us in the right direction, I think it will be worth it." He smiled at his wife and started walking towards Chinua and her men.
The group did not agree with Cong's decision to seek help from the Magoli soldiers. But they had run out of options. Helpless, they could only watch as Cong walked towards the soldiers alone.
Prepared to be beaten by the Magoli soldiers, Cong exhaled and approached the group sitting near the last pavilion. They had already started eating but looked up as he drew near.
"These brothers," Cong began, lowering his head. He saw the blond man and decided he might be the best person to speak with.
Cong walked up to Drystan. "Are you a soldier of the Southern General?" he asked.
Drystan smiled. "I am not," he said, staring at Cong. "What do you need?"
"Do you know the way to Lao-Da Village?" Cong asked politely.
Drystan smirked. "I do not," he replied, picking up a piece of bread. He chewed it slowly, his gaze fixed on Cong. "So, what is it you need?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Cong saw a little girl rush from his left, picking up a piece of bread from the ground towards someone sitting nearby, and one of the Magoli soldiers grabbed her hand.
Chinua looked at the frightened little girl. Tears streamed down her face. "Why were you picking up that dirty bread?" Chinua asked.
Trembling, the child said, "Brother, I'm hungry...."
Cong watched Chinua reach back with her left hand and saw a dagger strapped there. He knew the little girl must have offended the soldiers by picking up the dirty bread. Afraid they would hurt her, he glanced around and saw there were only eight of them. If they were killed here, no one would know. He balled his right hand into a fist and lunged towards Chinua.
Khenbish and Zhi jumped up instantly. Khenbish grabbed Cong's right wrist and kicked the back of his leg, sending him sprawling to the ground. Zhi swung his spear towards Cong's neck.
Don't hurt her!" Cong shouted angrily from the ground. "It's just a dirty piece of bread!"
Chinua stared at Cong, who knelt angrily before her and her men. She gently took the dirty piece of bread from the little girl's hand. Disgusted, she threw it on the ground and stepped on it until it mixed with the sand. Chinua's right hand now held the little girl's frightened wrist. Reaching into her bag with her left hand, she took out another piece of bread and placed the clean food in the little girl's hand.
"Next time, don't pick up dirty food," Chinua said with a smile, releasing the little girl's hand.
"Thank you, brother..." the frightened child whispered, running into her mother's arms.
Chinua noticed the villagers had now surrounded them, keeping a cautious distance. Looking at Cong, she asked, "Why did you think I would hurt that girl?"
Cong looked up at her. "Don't you soldier like to hurt us for fun?" he replied.
"Not everyone is amused by other people's pain," Chinua said. She looked at Zhi, who withdrew his spear from Cong's neck. "Tell me, are you the villagers who fled the flood in the southwest?"
"We are," Cong confirmed.
"The government sent aid materials, and nearby villages set up shelters," Chinua said. "Why did you bring these people here to suffer?"
"Our village doesn't receive government assistance," an elderly villager interjected.
Chinua sighed; it was a story she'd heard before. Looking at them, she asked, "Of all the nearby villages, why Lao-Da?"
"Because we heard the Southern General is kind," Cong explained. "He won't treat us differently just because we're descendants of Tanggolian." He looked at Chinua, realizing everyone else stood behind her. Now he understood she was the leader, not the blond-haired man. "We didn't know the way. Some kind people pointed us in this direction."
Hye smiled. "Looks like you ran out of food," he said.
Cong nodded.
Hye chuckled, looking from the villagers to Cong. "It's a misunderstanding," he explained. "They're soldiers, just trying to protect themselves. They won't hurt you if you don't jump on them first." He turned to Chinua. "Am I right?" He saw her nod. "Well..." Hye said, looking towards their packs. "Let me see what food we have left..."
"We still have two bags of roasted peanuts," Jeet said.
"Distribute them to the villagers," Chinua instructed. "We don't need that much food."
"You're not far from Lao-Da Village," Hye added. "In fact, we're going that way."
Cong looked at Drystan. "But he said he doesn't know where it is," he pointed out.
"I don't know," Drystan replied.
Jeet handed the two bags of roasted peanuts to Cong. "It's not much, I know," he said, "but it's better than nothing."
Drystan teased, "With your large and tall build, I don't think you have a kind heart towards children. I don't remember you being kind to Siqi..." He turned to Zhi and smiled.
Jeet said, "You have no idea. I'm especially unkind to people who want to add fuel to the fire."
Drystan laughed.
Chinua unhooked the bag from her waistband and threw it to Cong. "Give this to the pregnant woman," she said.
Cong looked at Chinua. "Thank you..." he said, then turned and began distributing the roasted peanuts to the villagers.
Chinua watched the villagers sitting and eating. She sighed. "You're right," she murmured. "Heaven is high, and the emperor is far. No matter how loud their cries, neither heaven nor the emperor will hear."
Hye sighed too. "That may be true, Chinua," he said, "but remember, just a single grain of rice can tip the balance of the scale." He lightly patted her left shoulder, then walked towards the villagers, carrying the bread bag. Calling out, "Hey... come here, children, come here... Uncle has some fresh bread for you."
As Chinua watched Hye distribute the bread to the children, she realized why he had trained her in such a way. Hye hoped she would see and experience the pain of ordinary people. He wanted to remind her that the effort she put into her work wasn't just for herself; she was also the hope of many who had no voice.
"If we stay any longer," Naksh said, "we won't reach Lao-Da Village before dark."
"The elderly and children can't walk the remaining distance," Zhi added.
"We'll use our horses," Chinua decided. "Tell the villagers we need their wagons."
Hye walked back after distributing the bread. "They look like they've been hungry for days," he told them. "I don't believe they can still walk."
Chinua stated firmly, "They must keep walking. Leaving them exposed is leaving them to die." She continued, "I suggest using our horses and their wagons to transport the elderly and children who cannot walk. When we reach Lao-Da Village, I'll have Taban send soldiers to collect the items they can't carry."
Looking at Hye, she added, "Many of them can't write or read, so make yourself useful and help them write their names on their belongings."
Hye smiled. "Sounds like a great plan," he said. He turned to Chinua with a dissatisfied expression. "If you ever call me not useful again, I won't help you unless you beg."
Chinua chuckled. "Alright, get going," she said. "Tell them we're leaving in an hour. Any later, and we'll arrive closer to midnight."