Chapter 65
Chapter 65
With tattered strips of cloth stained with pus draped around his neck, Aman strode toward a child with a distended belly sitting on the ground.
He carefully gave the child some water.
Though the child looked plump, anyone who had witnessed a famine knew this was edema caused by prolonged starvation.
This child possessed the golden irises unique to the Sand People.
He tilted his head back, greedily sucking the water from the skin.
“Poor child. Drink slowly, there’s more!”
Wang Chang unhooked his own waterskin and pressed it into the child’s arms.
Then he turned to rummage through the pockets on the side of his saddle, muttering, “Wait a moment, I’ll find something for the little one to eat.”
Aman glanced at him several times. He didn’t speak, but his expression softened slightly.
There was no sense in talking under the blazing sun, so Aman made a gesture of invitation and led them deeper into the village.
Outside the box, Qin Ying tried several times to move her field of vision to look elsewhere, but she failed.
It was exactly the same as when she was at the Duan Family Fortress; in an unfamiliar place, her perspective could only lock onto Han Lie.
“I once traveled to Luoyang for my studies,” Aman, the guide, said as they walked through the abandoned village.
He cursed at the heavens and the earth for a while before his emotions calmed slightly. A mocking sneer curled his lips. “Don’t let the current state of ruin fool you; our village used to be very prosperous.”
Though they lacked lush pastures and vast farmland, the village was close to Golden Saddle Mountain.
The mountain was full of jade discs and precious medicinal herbs.
Entering the mountains once every fifteen days to harvest and then trading with the Central Plains was enough for the people here to live a wealthy life.
Han Lie pressed further, “What happened later?”
Aman let out a cold laugh. “Later? Later, the Imperial Court wanted Immortal Grass!”
The thirty-six tribes of the Sand People in the yellow sands had submitted to Great Xia. Like the commoners of Great Xia, they were required to bear the burden of taxes and labor.
A single order from the Imperial Court to provide Fresh Immortal Grass had drained the lifeblood of the Sand People tribes in just two years.
Unlike Aman, who needed to vent his emotions, Han Lie remained relatively calm.
He surveyed the sand-covered village and asked, “What did you do?”
Aman pursed his lips, the black and red burn scars on his face twisting into a hideous grimace.
“We… broke our pact with the Mountain God.”
“The Mountain God?”
As they spoke, the sunlight that had been scorching their heads was suddenly blocked by a shadow.
Han Lie realized they had arrived between two stone mountains, and a refreshing breeze brushed against his face.
The upper parts of these two stone mountains leaned toward each other at an angle, creating a shaded area at the base.
In this area stood many lopsided cloth tents.
Inside sat several listless people, some skeletal, others swollen with edema.
“Take the child back.”
Aman called out to a young woman and handed over the child, who was still clutching the waterskin tightly.
“There aren’t many children left in the village. Watch him!”
Aman’s voice was harsh, frightening the woman into silence.
Han Lie had no intention of being led by the nose by Aman. Seeing that the man was about to say more, he assumed a stern expression. “We crossed the desert in this extreme heat just to find the problem and solve it.”
“You’ve had your vent. For the sake of those still alive, do not waste any more time!”
Aman fell silent for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the men behind Han Lie.
Wu Er, ever sharp-witted, immediately saw his hesitation and spoke up. “We brought water and some rice cakes with us. We can cook some porridge.”
“Find someone who can take charge. We’ll start by giving the children some water and food.”
Hearing this, Aman called over a middle-aged woman with bronze skin to help Wu Er and the others distribute the food.
He then led Han Lie into the deepest and coolest tent.
“This is the Shaman’s residence.”
Aman lifted the sheepskin curtain and gestured for Han Lie to enter.
Inside the tent, a pungent stench of mutton wafted toward him, thick enough to feel physical.
It was mixed with a damp, humid vapor.
Han Lie paused for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the dim, murky light.
In the center of this largest and tallest tent, there was actually a spring enclosed by stacked stones.
Though the water was only a shallow layer, it was likely enough to provide a mouthful a day to keep everyone clinging to life.
It was probably because of this spring that this tribe of Sand People had not been wiped out under such extreme and harsh conditions.
Beside the spring sat a person covered in burns, wearing only a tattered cloth wrapped around her waist, leaving her upper body exposed.
Han Lie took only one look before averting his gaze.
Judging by certain features of the charred figure, the person was likely a woman; out of decency and respect, he should not stare.
This polite gesture caused the tension in Aman’s brow to relax slightly.
The person reclining on a white stone let out a laugh.
Her throat had been ruined by fire, leaving her voice raspy and hoarse: “Envoy from afar.”
Aman stepped forward and helped the charred Shaman sit up.
Like Aman, the Shaman’s burns had received no effective treatment.
As she sat across from Han Lie, she emitted a powerful, foul odor.
Han Lie acted as if his nose were blocked and he couldn’t smell a thing, getting straight to the point: “We are here to investigate Golden Saddle Mountain and the culprit behind this great drought.”
“The culprit?”
Whether it was an ancestral trait of sarcasm or not, the Shaman let out a sneer just as Aman had when she heard the word.
“The culprit? Is it not the greedy Noble from the Capital who keeps demanding Immortal Grass from us?”
For the sake of harvesting and transporting Immortal Grass, Sand People villages had vanished one after another. They had long since lost their reverence for the Great Xia Imperial Court.
Han Lie sighed. “If your side cannot adopt a proper attitude, then we might as well all die together.”
The charred Shaman shut her mouth resentfully, her bloodshot eyes fixed on Han Lie, but in the end, she didn’t dare say something like ‘then let us die.’
Having silenced her, Han Lie immediately seized control of the conversation.
He began his inquiry as if conducting an interrogation.
The villages near Golden Saddle Mountain had always followed a rule-every fifteenth day of the month, they would drive fine horses to the front of the mountain as a sacrifice.
In doing so, the Giant Bird that preyed on the horses would spend a day resting in its nest to digest its meal.
During this time, the lightning that sealed the mountain would stop.
The Sand People could take advantage of this single day to enter the mountain to search for high-quality jade and harvest the Immortal Grass that could cure diseases.
These sacrifices had continued for untold years.
That was until the year before last, when the Imperial Court issued a decree to collect Fresh Immortal Grass.
The Mountain God within the peaks was terrifying, but the Tax Collectors and soldiers sent by the Imperial Court were equally fearsome.
Immortal Grass was inherently rare. Even if the entire tribe set out, the once-a-month opportunity to enter the mountain was far from enough time to harvest the required amount.
Some had tried to stay behind in the mountain, but they all ended up as charred remains by the roadside.
The Sand People shed countless amounts of blood, yet they still couldn’t fill the quota.
To avoid dying by the blades of the Tax Collectors, this tribe of Sand People had no choice but to resort to a desperate, crooked plan.
The Shaman sat cross-legged with a hunched back. “We wanted to poison the Giant Bird that guards Golden Saddle Mountain!”
“So, we tampered with the horse sacrifice, stuffing the horses’ bellies with poison.”
Han Lie’s heart skipped a beat.
Outside the box, Qin Ying also let out a long breath.
Judging by the Thunderbird lingering outside the village, the Sand People had clearly failed, and they had been met with retaliation!
Qin Ying tapped her finger on the box and said, “The Imperial Court’s demand for Fresh Immortal Grass forced the Sand People into making a disastrous move.”
“The Thunderbird in Golden Saddle Mountain came to retaliate, and the Hanba…”
Qin Ying suddenly paused. She lowered her voice and asked Han Lie, “Do you think it’s possible that the Thunderbird guarding the mountain was actually a jailer?”
“That gluttonous bird was using lightning to imprison and seal the Hanba inside the mountain?”
And because the jailer had been poisoned and abandoned its post, the Hanba finally had the chance to come out and wreak havoc!