Chapter 6 - Chapter 8: A Lone Old Horse Passes Through the World.

As Xu Mu had instructed, the next morning, the five coachmen arrived promptly with their carts. Xu Mu stepped out of the house, feeling a surge of relief. He'd worried some might find the venture too risky and back out, but they were all good men. "Si Hu, distribute the jackets." Si Hu pouted, handing out five new coats to the coachmen. "I can read a bit... Master, this says Xu Family, Xu Family—" "Xu Family Workshop." Xu Mu smiled. "I'll get it registered at the yamen when I have time. From today, you're all part of my Xu Family Workshop." "Master, this is wonderful! The fabric on these jackets is quite good." Of course it was—each jacket had cost at least one tael. Having transmigrated, Xu Mu knew the value of a team. Unity meant efficiency. "Master, what do we do now?" The burly bald man leading the group, now wearing his jacket, asked earnestly. Xu Mu remembered his name was Chen Sheng, the informal leader of the coachmen. "Chen Sheng, tell the lads to bring two days' rations and their cudgels. We leave the city in half an hour." "O-out of the city?" Chen Sheng startled. Beyond Wangzhou's walls lay hundreds of thousands of refugees, with starvation everywhere. "Master, why leave the city?" "To buy grain, for brewing." Xu Mu had already inquired. Other large wineries all went outside the city to purchase grain. With refugees surrounding Wangzhou, there was no surplus grain within the walls—only beyond. Distant towns outside Wangzhou had stored grain, more or less. Fifty jars for the Fortune Inn alone would need around three hundred catties. And Xu Mu's ambitions stretched far beyond a single inn. Hence the heavy pay for coachmen. "We'll follow your lead, Master!" Xu Mu nodded, heading for the gate, then paused, glancing back. Jiang Caiwei stood in the courtyard, her face etched with worry. "Lock up at night. If thieves break in, run to the back alley—toward the yamen." He hesitated, then spoke. "I'll remember... Wait, Xu Lang." Jiang Caiwei hurried into the house, returning with a small porcelain bottle, rushing to him. "Bought this earlier—it's hemostatic ointment. M-master, be careful." "You remember what I said too." "Don't worry, Xu Lang—I will." Xu Mu turned silently, climbing onto Chen Sheng's cart. Once far enough from the courtyard, he dared to look back at the servant wife. To his surprise, Jiang Caiwei stood gazing after the cart, her head tilted. Their eyes met; Xu Mu quickly turned away, sitting rigidly upright. "Master, if you're worried about sister-in-law, my wife could come keep her company at night." Chen Sheng, driving the cart, spoke up suddenly. "We'll see." Xu Mu sighed deeply. He felt the knot binding him to Jiang Caiwei tightening. "Master, hold on tight." "Out of the city—" The five carts moved swiftly, soon exiting Wangzhou's south gate. ... "Master, so many bodies." Four or five li beyond the gate, the scene grew increasingly horrifying. Xu Mu had assumed few refugees from the north gate would reach the south, given the distance, but he'd been wrong. Countless refugees now packed the south门外, a dense mass. Along the road, nearly all tree bark and leaves had been stripped. Starved refugees lay in shallow pits, some exposed by rain, their swollen flesh blackened. Cleaner limbs bore faint tooth marks. The five carts halted as dusk fell. "Master, don't bury them—we can't finish. Not even by dark." Xu Mu stopped digging, standing before a fresh mound, silent for a long time. Before transmigrating, he'd thought lines like "This year Jiangnan drought; Quzhou folk eat people" were poetic exaggeration. Now, witnessing it firsthand, he knew such horrors were real. If he'd transmigrated as an emperor, perhaps he could've reformed things. But he was a thug—a lowly Da Ji thug. Powerless. "Light the lanterns. Move out." Xu Mu's voice was cold. "Pass the master's order! Light lanterns, tighten reins!" Chen Sheng called back to the others. Lanterns hung from horse necks, casting pools of light in the dim night. "Chant—" "Heavenly Lord sits in hall." "Calls me at third watch to carry immortals." "Whole city veiled in mist and smoke." "A lone old horse passes through the world." "Roar!" The coachmen's shouts cut through the deepening darkness as they pressed forward. Xu Mu looked on, a heavy, indescribable grief weighing on his chest, suffocating him. ... "Master, we're here." Chen Sheng reined in the horses, speaking softly—he'd noticed Xu Mu's grim mood. "Get down." Shaking off his thoughts, Xu Mu composed himself and jumped from the cart first. The town before them was Zhougong Town, nearly fifty li from Wangzhou. At night, scattered lights twinkled like stars. After showing their tokens and giving some broken silver, the guards at the gate let them in with grins. "Master, I've been here before. There's a small inn not far from the gate." Chen Sheng stepped closer. "Leave the carts at the post station. Remember to take your cudgels." Xu Mu remained uneasy, especially after seeing the refugees. But he had no choice—buying grain was essential for his private wine business. "Chen Sheng, tell the lads to take turns keeping watch at night—two hours each." In these lawless times, one either became a predator or a rabbit hiding in a hole. Xu Mu refused to be a rabbit. He'd do everything to make himself a beast no one dared provoke.