In the end, the three men were collectively beaten by the officers, and afterward, they frequently felt aching pains in their bodies—physically and mentally exhausted.
It wasn't until they glanced at themselves that they noticed the bluish-purple swelling on their bodies.
They wanted to seek treatment from Doctor Yuan, but unfortunately, Wang Wu and his men had already warned him: "Don't treat them, or you'll be going against us brothers."
And Doctor Yuan wasn't a fool. He wasn't about to offend his long-time friends for the sake of a few criminals.
So the three could only endure the pain, still suffering daily under Wang Wu's deliberate targeting.
For example, when it came time to distribute rations:
"Well, well, it's you three again. What a shame—the cornbread's all gone. You'll have to come earlier next time!"
The three looked at the bulging sack that obviously still had cornbread in it, but they didn't dare voice a single word of protest—they had been thoroughly cowed by the whippings.
And in the past, when they had resisted, the consequence had been even worse: the next meal's cornbread would also be denied.
Having been tripped up and bullied so many times, the three became numb. Within a few days, they grew gaunt and unrecognizable, and eventually, they died of cold and illness.
Aside from their own families, no one spared them a second thought.
To be honest, even their families were confused—weren't they supposed to have been punished for trying to steal from Sun Juanfang? How did the officers end up involved?
This unresolved mystery lingered in their hearts with no answers to be found.
As the temperature plummeted, many in the convoy caught cold, and harsh coughing echoed often through the ranks.
In the end, when Wu Yu did a headcount, he discovered that nearly half the group was sick—he panicked.
If the number of exiles dropped too low, he could lose his position… maybe even face punishment from above.
Thinking of the cold, ruthless higher-ups, Wu Yu couldn't sit still anymore. He had his men distribute winter clothing at cost price. Those who couldn't afford it would have the amount deducted from their future food rations.
Eventually, everyone got winter clothes, although most were made from old, reused cotton.
These days, new cotton was reserved for the elite. Commoners were lucky just to have old stuffing.
After more than a month of grueling travel, no one dared complain. They all hurried to put on their winter wear, even if it was stiff and scratchy—it was still better than a single layer of thin clothing.
As for Sun Juanfang and Ting-jie, they wore cotton-padded clothes made from fresh cotton by Mother Sun. Though not very thick, they were warm and comfortable.
Sun Juanfang had even stuck heating pads inside her clothes. Sometimes, the two of them even felt too hot!
Among the sick was Qian Mingwu—the only young and able-bodied man in the convoy to fall seriously ill. His symptoms were severe: he coughed as if his lungs would come out, with labored, wheezing breaths.
One look at his symptoms and complexion, and Sun Juanfang guessed it had progressed from a cold into pulmonary tuberculosis—incurable in this era!
Even though she had medicine in her spatial stash that could cure it, the thought of her husband sharing a cucumber with another man made her decide that widowhood might suit her better.
In the end, Doctor Yuan diagnosed Qian Mingwu with severe tuberculosis, adding that it was likely contagious.
Once everyone heard it was contagious, they couldn't sit still.
"Doctor, is it really that serious? You're not trying to scare us, are you?"
The speaker was Old Madam Qian, though her trembling voice didn't exactly inspire confidence.
Doctor Yuan ignored her suspicion and continued calmly, "This is a serious illness that I can't treat. If you don't believe me, you're welcome to nurse him personally for a while."
Upon hearing this, Old Madam Qian instinctively backed away several steps. Under everyone's disdainful gazes, she turned and fled in shame.
As if! That kind of illness could kill! The others scattered like birds—no one wanted to be infected, especially when even his own mother was the first to run away.
It wasn't until she'd run over a hundred meters that Old Madam Qian dared to stop, her heart pounding. She'd been standing there so long earlier—would it affect her lifespan?!
While she was panicking, word had already spread through the entire convoy that Qian Mingwu had contracted a contagious disease. People began voicing their outrage.
"He's got tuberculosis—we can't stay with him!"
"Exactly, they need to get Wu Daren to drive him out before others get infected."
"Right? My cousin's great-uncle had it once and ended up dragging his devoted wife to the grave too. Tragic!"
"…"
There was a flurry of anxious discussion. When Wu Yu heard about it, he was shocked.
How did a healthy young man get tuberculosis? Still, now wasn't the time to worry about that—he had to act fast.
Even the system was confused. It suspected this might have something to do with its host.
"Host, did you have something to do with Qian Mingwu getting tuberculosis?"
"System, where would I find the time? Based on my observation, it's probably because he overindulged in women when he was younger and ruined his body. Not my fault."
Was lust really that dangerous? Then the system figured it had better stop ogling all those pretty lady systems...
From that day on, in the Quick Transmigration Department, the system stopped going on blind dates and became a monk-like existence. All the other systems who'd been on dates with it before breathed a collective sigh of relief.
After all, this particular system's IQ was low enough, and its EQ was even worse—they were all afraid of catching its idiocy.
Eventually, Wu Yu issued his verdict: Qian Mingwu would be expelled from the group. If any relatives wanted to take care of him, they wouldn't stop them.
But at that moment, not a single person dared step forward—not even Concubine Zhao, usually the most favored, who lowered her head like a quail.
No one was surprised. After all, who would be willing to die with someone else?
And so, Qian Mingwu—ill beyond saving—was abandoned, and not a single person dared to look back at him.