Jin Se

Chapter 9

The thirteenth year of Great Qian was not an easy year; it was a year etched into the history books in blood.

Ever since the winter of last year, the empire's two most agriculturally productive regions, Xianghuai and Jiangnan, had been struggling with natural disasters. One of them hadn't had a single drop of snow or rain the whole winter. The riverbed had retreated many meters; some areas no longer received waterflow at all. Jiangnan had become barren dirt for as far as the eye could see, the red ground sporting meter long cracks. Starved corpses littered the land, and nine out of ten homes were empty. The governor, after writing a petition to the imperial court, hung himself in his home for unclear reasons.

On the other hand, Xianghuai suffered massive flooding. Over ten cities had been washed away by floodwaters. The disaster-stricken refugees were everywhere, fleeing ceaselessly. Seven or eight out of ten died on the road. The young girls of destitute families could be bought and whisked off for a cup of rice. Healthy boys could be sold for three cups of rice, and still, people were lining up to sell their children.

People who flee in times of chaos, fall short of dogs in times of peace.

Although it had not rained in the imperial capital Pingyang City for several months, the sky was still overcast, as if a pot had been clapped over everyone's heads, suffocating them until they could hardly breathe. Some old people said that if one came out during the night and looked up, they'd know it wasn't clouds up there, but countless vengeful ghosts drifting to the capital from all directions to find the emperor to air their grievances.

As the disasters continued, up in Xiangbei, a cart driver and a farmer rose up in revolt. As the forces dispatched to suppress them were still on the road, there were already countless peasants who could no longer afford the costs of living answering the call to rebellion. This continent that had been peaceful for too long was about to plunge into a new age of endless and unceasing battle.

Of course, all of this had nothing to do with Shi Wuduan, who was trapped on a mountain somewhere in Shuzhong where birds don't shit.

The Cuibing bird that he'd sent to deliver mail had not returned, though he wasn't at all anxious. He figured that, as expected, the big dumb bird had an empty brain and a small head, and was only good for growing blubber. It couldn't even fly as fast as rogue cultivator Jiang Hua.

At first, Jiang Hua was concerned that keeping the child confined in the mountain might cause him to throw a tantrum or something, but who knew that after knowing him for some time, he discovered that Shi Wuduan seemed to naturally... lack a little something.

According to legend, when this child was still in his swaddling clothes, only just having learned how to sit up, when grown ups snatched away the toys in his hands, he simply wouldn't fuss. Any other child would've cried for sure, but this kid only blinked his pair of black eyes, gazing about, making a "Yaa" sound to convey that he wanted the toy back. If it was returned, he'd continue playing. If not, he would simply go with the flow good-naturedly and turn his attention to a different toy.

Apparently the sect master's disciple Master Banya had experimented taking away all the toys around him to see if he would cry. But what happened was that the little child looked at him in utter bafflement, as if he didn't understand what a fully-grown bearded man was doing with an armful of playthings like rattle-drums. After a while of confusion, he simply returned to his own amusement, hugging his foot and sucking on his toes - now here's something that can't be snatched away, eh?