Chapter 124: The Checkpoint (Please spare a vote! Thank you)

For the entire day, Zhong Dalang felt his head spinning. He had been stunned by a terrifying piece of news whispered by the wealthy elite. Just as he was convincing himself that the news must be false—mere hearsay not worth believing—he discovered that the shopkeeper and the owners of the inn were granting all the staff a holiday, paying out their monthly wages in advance. The official reason given was that they needed to return to their ancestral homes to mourn the dead.

What a load of rubbish! Return to their ancestral homes? Everyone knew the owners were native to the Qin Capital; what kind of "ancestral home" could they possibly be returning to?

Yet, the rest of the staff were blinded by the early wages and never gave the matter a second thought. Only Zhong Dalang recalled the words of the wealthy men:

"Chaos in the Qin Capital is only a matter of time. Even the old Emperor has quietly slipped away to the South. We merchants are already the last wave; if we don’t leave now, it will be too late once those Hu barbarians break through. As for those illiterate peasants, who cares if they live or die? Brother, hurry and prepare, and remember—don't breathe a word of this!"

A cold sweat drenched Zhong Dalang. Clutching his five hundred copper coins, he walked home with heavy steps, packed his belongings, and exchanged every last coin for coarse grain.

At the grain shop, he found that many others had already shuttered their doors. Unbeknownst to everyone, the Qin Capital was quietly shutting down; storefronts on every street were either closed or claiming shortages for various reasons. When he finally found a shop that was still open, he discovered that most of the grain had already been sold out.

With no other choice, he hastily bought mixed-grain flour. A peck of flour that once cost four coins now cost ten. He bought fifty pounds of it, packed it into a basket, and hurried back to Zhong Family Village. He had to bring the news back immediately; a single day's delay could be fatal.

That night, after dropping off the flour, Zhong Dalang and his father, Zhong Laoliu, went straight to the clan leader’s house. He recounted everything he had seen and heard that day, word for word. The leader listened, his brow furrowed, and he remained silent for a long time.

Before dawn the next day, the gongs were sounded in Zhong Family Village once more. The leader called a village-wide meeting.

The meeting was, naturally, to repeat what had happened the previous day. Many in the village remained unconvinced, dismissing it as Zhong Dalang’s exaggeration. Some even mocked and cursed him, calling him a rumor-monger and demanding he be held accountable.

Fortunately, the clan leader commanded great respect. He issued a mandatory order for the entire village to migrate. While called a migration, it was essentially fleeing famine. Every household in Zhong Family Village had men serving in the military; to flee meant they would not only be refugees, but also deserters. Many families were unwilling to go, and the leader did not force them.

By noon that day, out of the eighty-two households in the village, twenty-five were willing to follow the leader. Another fifteen families had daughters who had married out or daughters-in-law who had returned to their natal homes to spread the word, and they were still waiting.

The clan leader tasked his younger brother, Uncle Zhong, with leading these fifteen families. As it happened, Uncle Zhong’s three daughters-in-law were all preparing to return to their parents' homes to notify them, and they planned to depart the following morning.

As for the remaining forty-two households who refused to leave, the leader put a respected man in charge of them, leaving instructions not to let their guard down—if the situation turned dire, they should flee. The leader felt he had done all he could; everyone had to forge their own destiny.

Zhong Shitou was the eldest grandson of Zhong Laoliu. Laoliu had three sons; the second and third were away in the military. The third was unmarried, and the second had two sons with his wife, a woman from the same village and clan.

Because Dalang had a steady job that provided for the family, he had been exempted from corvée labor and military service. Furthermore, as the eldest son, he was needed to care for his aging parents; this was the traditional rule, and every household followed it, so there was no cause for complaint.

Dalang’s wife, also from the village and clan, was referred to as "Dalang’s wife" or "Big Zhong" to distinguish her. Dalang had three children—one son and two daughters. The family of nine joined the main group and set off without hesitation.

Three days after leaving, as they moved south to avoid the main roads, they navigated mountain passes to reach the outskirts of the Qin Capital. From the mountain peaks, they could clearly see the main road below. Line after line of luxurious carriages passed by, guarded by Qin soldiers wielding large blades. Every carriage that passed had to hand over a heavy purse of coins, and several groups even surrendered large quantities of silk and grain.

To leave the Qin Capital and head south, this checkpoint was the only path. The leader could not find a way through and hoped that the soldiers would fall asleep at night. But as evening fell, the money-grubbing soldiers lit torches all around and swapped in a second shift to continue collecting tolls. To them, every carriage passing by was pure profit.

These soldiers had been assigned to guard duty because they had connections. They knew the carriages were filled with merchants—people of low status who were the last to flee and lacked powerful backing. The soldiers had no fear and searched every carriage thoroughly, pocketing plenty of wealth.

The leader and Zhong Dalang watched from their vantage point, realizing they had no way forward. They decided to lead the villagers further into the mountains the next morning to spend half a day circling around the checkpoint.

Half a day later, after braving the bitter cold and hunger to bypass the first checkpoint and reach another descent, the group was devastated to find that soldiers were stationed there as well. Everything they could think of, the Qin soldiers had already anticipated.

"Damn it! All their cleverness is used to prey on us common folk!" the leader cursed.

However, hard work pays off. They finally found their moment: the soldiers' patrols at this section had slackened.

The leader and the third son seized the opportunity immediately. Leading over two hundred people, they moved at top speed. While the soldiers were mid-shift change, the group dashed down the mountain in under three minutes. By the time the soldiers heard the commotion and emerged from their tents to investigate, the Zhong clansmen had already successfully cleared the checkpoint and vanished into the darkness of another mountain range nearby.

"Someone! Someone! People are escaping!" the soldiers shouted. A squad fired a few arrows into the dark, and a dozen soldiers drew their blades to give chase. But once they reached the forest, the darkness became absolute. With no choice, they returned empty-handed, planning to search the mountains the next day.

As for the clansmen who had escaped into the forest, they followed the leader’s instructions and climbed toward the mountainside. From time to time, the chirping of a special bird echoed through the woods, guiding their path forward.