Han Ji

Chapter 120 Refugees Entering the City

The commander of the county garrison shouted from the city walls: "The prefect has ordered that no refugees are allowed to enter the city! You shall all disperse immediately!"

"Where are we supposed to go?! There's no food in the fields, no roads in the mountains, are we supposed to die?!"

Just as a conflict was about to break out, Liu Bei arrived with his cavalry.

He dismounted and walked to the refugees.

"I am Liu Bei, the Commandant of Hanzhong."

The refugees quieted down.

An old man asked tremblingly, "Captain... could you give me something to eat?"

Liu Bei looked back at the city gate, then at the displaced people.

"Open the city gates," he said.

The captain of the city wall shouted urgently, "Commander Liu! The Prefect has given orders..."

"Open the door," Liu Bei repeated. "If anything happens, I'll take responsibility."

The city gate slowly opened.

The refugees poured in, but stopped when they saw Liu Bei blocking the door.

"Listen to me," Liu Bei said loudly. "Entering the city doesn't mean you'll be eating and lodging for free. There's an old camp in the west of the city where you can stay temporarily. Those who are able-bodied can come with me to repair the canal; we'll provide meals and pay. The elderly, women, and children will be housed in soup kitchens. Are you willing?"

The refugees looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Does it really include meals?"

"Are they really giving out money?"

"real."

The crowd erupted in shouts of "Yes! Yes!"

Liu Bei instructed Qian Zhao to lead the troops to settle down, while he himself went up to the city wall.

Inside the city gate tower, Su Gu was actually there.

He leaned against the window, looking down at the refugees below, his face grim.

"Commander Liu, that's quite a generous gesture." Su Gu didn't turn around. "Two thousand refugees, can you afford to support them?"

"We have to support them even if we can't afford it." Liu Bei walked to his side. "Autumn is approaching. If we let the refugees starve to death outside the city, or if it incites a peasant uprising, it won't look good for the governor."

Su Gu turned to look at him: "So you made the decision for me?"

"It is to stand up for the people of Hanzhong."

The two looked at each other.

Su Gu suddenly laughed: "Liu Bei, you are indeed remarkable. Suppressing bandits, controlling salt production, renovating irrigation canals, taking in displaced people... your strategies are almost outmatched."

"I dare not."

"You wouldn't dare?" Su Gu leaned closer and lowered his voice, "But remember, Hanzhong is my territory. Xi Jian is coming soon. Once he arrives, we'll settle accounts slowly."

After he finished speaking, he turned and went downstairs.

Liu Bei stood on the city wall, watching the refugees slowly enter the city below.

The wind blows from the north, and autumn is already in the air.

Guan Yu walked to his side: "Brother, if Xi Jian sides with Su Gu..."

"He won't be biased," Liu Bei said, looking north. "Whoever wins, he'll side with them."

Guan Yu was silent for a moment: "Brother, you've changed a lot."

Liu Bei smiled.

He recalled Lu Zhi's words: "When it's time to be ruthless, you have to be ruthless."

"Yun Chang," he said softly, "fighting wars is easy, but governing the world is difficult. We still have a long way to go."

As the sun sets, the flags and banners flutter in the wind atop the city walls.

Two thousand refugees, three thousand laborers, and one thousand soldiers.

These are his foundation.

The refugees were settled in the old camp in the west of the city.

The camp was originally a garrison of troops from the previous dynasty. The earthen walls were half-collapsed, and the sheds leaked when it rained. Qian Zhao led people to repair it for three days, making it barely habitable. Two thousand refugees were crammed into thirty acres of land, people next to each other, fire pits next to fire pits.

Liu Bei came to the camp every day.

He wasn't wearing armor, only a linen robe, and squatted by the soup kitchen watching the porridge being served. The porridge was millet mixed with wild vegetables, the consistency just right, one spoonful for each person. Some children couldn't reach the wooden bucket, so he picked them up and ladled them out.

"Captain..." The old soldier distributing the porridge trembled.

"Distribute according to the rules." Liu Bei put the child down, patted his head, and said, "Go drink."

The child took the bowl and ran away, hiding behind his mother to peek at her.

On the third day, something happened at the camp.

At dawn, while setting up the cooking pot, two men got into a fight. One accused the other of stealing grain bags, while the other claimed it was a false accusation. The scuffle escalated into a physical fight, attracting a crowd of about a hundred onlookers.

When Qian Zhao arrived with his troops, both men were already bleeding from head wounds.

"Captain!" Qian Zhao urgently reported.

Liu Bei was surveying the terrain outside the camp when he heard the news and rushed over.

The crowd parted automatically. Two men, held down by soldiers, still glared at each other. Millet lay scattered on the ground, mixed with blood.

"Why did you take action?" Liu Bei asked.

The tall man roared, "He stole grain! I saw it with my own eyes!"

The shorter man spat, "Bullshit! I picked it up!"

"Pick it up? The grain sacks are under your bed, how are you supposed to pick them up?!"

Seeing that another argument was about to break out, Liu Bei raised his hand.

The two shut up.

Liu Bei walked to the low bunk and lifted the straw mat. There was indeed a grain sack underneath, torn open, with a little rice leaking out.

"Where did these grain sacks come from?" Liu Bei asked.

The shorter man bowed his head: "I...I found it..."

"Where did you find it?"

"The woods outside the camp..."

When did you pick it up?

"Last...last night..."

Liu Bei picked up the grain sack and felt the tear. The crack was clean, like it had been cut with a knife. He turned to the tall man and asked, "You said he stole it? Whose did he steal it from?"

The tall man froze: "I...I don't know. But last night, three bags of grain were missing from our team's rations."

Liu Bei looked at Qian Zhao.

Qian Zhao immediately went to investigate. Half an hour later, he reported back: five bags of food were lost from the camp last night, all in different areas.

"It wasn't stolen by one person," Qian Zhao whispered. "It seems... like an organized group."

Liu Bei's eyes flickered slightly.

He dismissed the crowd, leaving only the two parties involved.

"You two," he said, "keep watch with me tonight."

That night, Liu Bei did not return to camp.

He took Guan Yu and Qian Zhao and hid in the western watchtower of the camp. The tower was three zhang high and its view covered most of the camp.

Around midnight, the camp became quiet.

The fire in the hearth gradually died down, and snores filled the air. Three dark figures emerged from different shacks and quietly converged at the base of the east wall. They pulled grain sacks from a crack in the wall, tied them with ropes, and tossed them over the earthen wall.

Someone was waiting for them outside the wall.

Just as they were scaling the wall, torches on the watchtower suddenly lit up.

"Take him down!" Liu Bei shouted.

Guan Yu leaped down from the tower, his Green Dragon Crescent Blade still sheathed, and struck the knees of three men repeatedly with the back of the blade. The three men screamed and fell to the ground. The sound of galloping hooves outside the wall rushed out, and Qian Zhao led his cavalry in pursuit.

The camp was alarmed.

Torches were lit one after another, and refugees flocked to watch.

The three men were tied up in an open space and forced to kneel and tremble. Eight sacks of grain were piled up to the side.

"Speak," Liu Bei said, sitting on the wooden stake. "Who ordered it?"

The three of them lowered their heads and remained silent.

Guan Yu drew his sword, the tip pressed against a man's throat: "Speak."

The man wet his pants: "Y-someone paid us... to steal grain and create chaos..."

"Who will pay?"

"No, I don't know him... He's wearing a mask and speaks with a Guanzhong accent..."

"How much did you give?"

"Five hundred coins per person..."

Guan Yu sheathed his sword and looked at Liu Bei.

Liu Bei stood up and walked to the three men: "Five hundred coins, and you've sold the livelihood of two thousand fellow villagers?"

The three men kowtowed, pleading, "Captain, spare our lives! Captain, spare our lives!"

"I won't let him off." Liu Bei waved his hand. "Tie him up and punish him publicly tomorrow."

That night, the pursuit and arrest yielded no results.

The accomplices outside the wall, familiar with the terrain, escaped into the mountains and forests. Only two horses were captured, their saddles bearing distinctive branding marks.

"Not ordinary bandits." Qian Zhao examined the brand. "It looks like... a horse from the army."

Liu Bei took the saddle and examined it.

The brand was a blurry beast-like shape, resembling a wolf but not quite. He handed it to Guan Yu: "Yun Chang, have you seen this before?"

Guan Yu examined it closely and shook his head: "It doesn't resemble the Han army's standard."

"Keep this safe," Liu Bei said. "It will be useful in the future."

The next morning, we gathered at the campsite.

Two thousand refugees stood in a dark mass, watching the three men being tied to wooden stakes.