A daily intelligence report; in chaotic times and famine years, grain is plentiful.

He didn't look at anyone and went straight into the house.

After a while, he came out carrying the small rice jar.

As everyone watched with puzzlement, Chen Mo walked to the center of the courtyard and forcefully turned the rice jar upside down.

"Splash!"

Less than two pounds of coarse grains, mixed with bran and soil, were scattered all over the ground.

Chen Mo lifted the empty rice jar and showed it to everyone before slamming it down on the ground.

"This is all the food my family has stored."

"If you want them, take them and share them."

After he finished speaking, he actually bent down, picked up a handful of coarse grains mixed with dirt, walked up to the stunned Sun Dazhu, and stiffly stuffed it into his hand.

"Consider this my funeral gift for your younger brother, Sun Erzhu."

He grabbed a few more handfuls and stuffed them into the crowd of several other emaciated villagers who were on the verge of collapse.

"This is the last act of kindness from my Chen family."

The food on the ground was quickly distributed.

Each person only had a few dozen grains of rice.

"Right now, my family is also out of food." Chen Mo glanced at the people around him, his gaze cold. "Do you think this is enough?"

No one spoke. Shame, embarrassment, and a lingering fear spread through the crowd.

Just then, Chen Mo suddenly raised his hand, pointed in the direction of the Wang family at the east end of the village, and immediately raised his voice.

"If you're hungry, why don't you go find Wang Mang?"

"His family brought back a whole truckload of grain from town yesterday afternoon! I saw it with my own eyes! The white rice was piled up in their yard!"

"Trading a bushel of moldy grain for an acre of your prime paddy field, or a half-grown child for a bushel of grain mixed with sand—isn't this kind of transaction more profitable than robbing two pounds of grain from one of my wounded soldiers' homes?"

"I, Chen Mo, risked my life to snatch two eggs from a wild boar's mouth, and you all dare to surround me demanding a share. Wang Mang sits at home, acquiring land and people with just a few words, and you don't even dare to utter a peep?"

Someone in the crowd muttered to themselves.

"The Wang family...the Wang family has powerful connections in the county...his brother works in the government..."

"A powerful backer?" Chen Mo found it laughable. "What time of year is this? This is a year of famine. The county magistrate himself is almost starving. Why would he care about the life or death of a village head? If things really escalate, we'll just wait and see who's more unafraid of whom."

"ah!"

Sun Dazhu suddenly clutched his head, knelt on the ground, and let out a desperate roar.

"I didn't want to... I didn't want to steal it... but my brother is dead... he's dead..."

Chen Mo limped over and squatted down beside him.

"Your brother starved to death, that's true. But what killed him wasn't the little bit of food my family had to save him, but the moldy grain that the Wang family had stockpiled in the granary, it was this cannibalistic society."

"Give your brother a proper burial, then raise your head, straighten your body, and think about whether you should continue kneeling at the Wang family's door like a dog, exchanging for the kind of rotten food that can starve people to death, or be a real man and fight for a way to survive for yourself and your family who are still alive."

Sun Dazhu looked at Chen Mo, at the frightening wound on his leg, and at his calm yet powerful eyes.

A few seconds later, he suddenly jumped up from the ground and wiped the mud off his face.

He turned and strode towards the Wang family's direction.

Several men who had also had their land deeds exchanged for spoiled grain by Wang Mang exchanged glances, gritted their teeth, and followed him.

……

the other side.

Wang Mang had already received the news.

He didn't take these peasants seriously at all.

Now, he was sitting cross-legged at the entrance of his grand courtyard. Zhao Si and Sun Gouzi stood beside him, along with three burly servants. These three servants were strong men whom his family fed with grain, and they held oiled sticks in their hands, their faces fierce.

Sun Dazhu rushed to the front of the Wang family's gate and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Wang Mang! Give me back my land deeds! I don't want your grain anymore!"

Wang Mang spat out the grass root in his mouth and sneered.

"Sun Dazhu, have you lost your mind? You've already eaten the food, and now you're telling me you don't want it? Trying to renege on your debt?"

"That grain was moldy! My brother died from vomiting and diarrhea after eating your moldy grain!" Sun Dazhu's eyes were bloodshot.

Wang Mang picked at his ear, looking completely unconcerned.

"Who knows how he died? He was weak; he could choke to death even from drinking cold water. Maybe he ate one of those unclean things Chen Mo gave him and is now blaming me?"

He had just finished speaking when he saw Chen Mo, supported by Li Laogen, limping over.

Wang Mang's temper flared up instantly, and he pointed at Chen Mo.

"Chen Mo! You little brat, you're the one who instigated this!"

Chen Mo leaned against the wall, his face pale, but he was still sharp-tongued.

"I was just telling the truth."

"The truth?" Wang Mang laughed, a sinister laugh. "Today I'll show you who really tells the truth in Qingshui Village!"

He waved his hand.

"Beat them!"

The three servants had been itching for a fight, and as soon as they heard the commotion, they sprang into action, brandishing their batons and charging forward.

Sun Dazhu and the villagers who came with him were no match for these people. They were soon knocked to the ground, groaning in pain.

Wang Mang stepped forward and stomped on the back of Sun Dazhu's head, pressing his face firmly into the mud.

"If you dare to cause trouble again, it won't be as simple as just getting a beating," he said coldly. "I'll make sure your whole family leaves here lying on their backs, just like your short-lived brother."

Chen Mo's pupils contracted slightly.

He knew that this matter was over for today.

The villagers were just one step away from victory.

That fighting spirit, that willingness to risk everything, hasn't been fully forced out yet.

The crowd gradually dispersed, and the villagers who had been beaten were helped home, limping as they went.

Li Laogen helped Chen Mo walk back, sighing all the way.

"You took too much risk today."

"No risk, my house will be the one robbed right now." Chen Mo was in so much pain in his legs that his forehead was covered in cold sweat, and he could only lean against the wall and gasp for breath.

Looking at his swollen leg, Li Laogen felt worried.

"This injury needs to be treated quickly. If it's delayed any longer, your leg will be useless. I have some traditional Chinese medicine at home that stops bleeding and reduces swelling. I'll bring it over to you later."

Chen Mo shook his head.

"Uncle Li, you keep those for yourself; they're essential for survival. I... I have a way."

When Chen Ling'er got home, she saw the terrible wound on his leg and rushed over to him, crying so hard she could hardly breathe.

"Brother, your leg... your leg..."

Chen Mo could no longer hold on and slumped onto the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), his face deathly pale. He had been holding on by sheer willpower outside, but now that his willpower had dissipated, the excruciating pain and weakness immediately overwhelmed him.

He touched the area around the wound; it was even more swollen and burning hot.

He started to have a fever.

As evening approached, Chen Mo waited in a semi-conscious state.

When that familiar transparent panel appeared before his eyes, his vision was already quite blurry.

[Daily information has been updated, please select:]

[1. In the hollow of an old locust tree three miles south of the village, there is about half a pound of pine nuts stored by squirrels for the winter. The hollow is about two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters) above the ground, and the entrance is very narrow. (Low risk; climbing might result in a fall, and the number of pine nuts is small, not enough to eat.)]

[Second, three frozen black carp, each weighing about two kilograms, are trapped below a crack in the ice on the upper reaches of the Qingshui River. It will require breaking through a foot-thick layer of ice. (Medium risk; very physically demanding, and there is a risk of the ice collapsing.)]

[Thirdly, on the east side of Black Wind Ridge, there is a shady cliff face with a small cluster of wild Scutellaria baicalensis growing in a crevice, about a dozen plants. This cliff face is particularly steep, wet, and slippery, making it difficult to climb. (High risk, very easy to fall, requires certain rock climbing skills.)]

Chen Mo's head was spinning from the fever, but he kept his eyes glued to the words "Huang Qin".

Anti-inflammatory herbs.

Something that could save your life.

If the inflammation isn't treated soon, this leg will definitely be lost, and it might even cost me my life due to the infection.

He barely hesitated, gritting his teeth and choosing the third option with sheer willpower.

[Information 3: Wild Scutellaria baicalensis on the eastern cliff of Black Wind Ridge.]

A clear image appeared in his mind. A steep and slippery black cliff, with a dozen withered yellow herbaceous plants swaying violently in the cold wind among the jagged rocks.

In the middle of the night, Chen Mo was awakened by a sharp pain.

The fever seemed to have subsided a little, but the swelling in my legs was even worse, and my trousers were so tight they looked like they were about to burst.

Can't wait any longer.

He struggled to get down and began looking for something.

Chen Ling'er was startled awake and saw her brother groping for a rope and a machete in the dark. She was so frightened that she started to cry and held him tightly.

"Brother, don't go... It's very dark outside, and your leg is injured... You'll be in danger..."

Chen Mo turned his head and, taking advantage of the dim moonlight outside the window, touched his sister's dry hair.

"If you don't go, you'll die."

He carried a hemp rope, a machete, a small hoe for digging wild vegetables, and a makeshift wooden stick, and pushed open the door into the dark night.

The mountain road was slippery and hard after the snow.

With each step Chen Mo took forward, his wound felt as if it were being torn open. He had to stop after walking a short distance, leaning against a tree trunk and panting heavily. Sweat immediately soaked through his thin underwear, which was then chilled by the cold wind.

By the time he stumbled his way to the foot of Black Wind Ridge, the sky was already beginning to lighten.

Based on the images displayed by the system, he quickly located the cliff face.

It is nearly three zhang high, about ninety degrees vertical, with icicles hanging on the rocks, which makes people's legs go weak just looking at it.

Chen Mo wrapped one end of the hemp rope around his waist several times and tied it into a tight knot, while the other end was tied securely around a pine tree as thick as a bowl at the foot of the mountain.

He tried it, and it was very secure.

He began to climb.

His fingers quickly froze stiff, making it almost impossible to grip the protruding rock. His injured leg was completely powerless, leaving him to rely solely on his arms and his other, unaffected leg. Each upward movement exhausted all his strength, and waves of intense pain from his wound assaulted his nerves.

He tripped several times, hanging in mid-air, only managing to stay upright by gripping the cracks in the rocks with his hands.

A quarter of an hour felt like an eternity.

He finally climbed to the designated spot and saw the dozen or so withered yellow Scutellaria baicalensis plants growing in the cracks of the rocks.

He was immediately overjoyed. He carefully dug it out, roots and all, with a small hoe, wrapped it in the rag he carried, and put it in his pocket.

The medicine has arrived.

He began to descend.

But just as his body was falling and he was giving all his weight to the rope, there was a sharp snap.

The rope broke.

In extremely cold weather, the hemp rope, repeatedly stretched, becomes brittle and hard, unable to withstand pressure.

At a height of over ten feet, Chen Mo's body lost all support and fell straight down, finally rolling into a snowdrift below the cliff, where snow sprayed everywhere.

He completely lost consciousness.

After an unknown amount of time, Chen Mo woke up to a warm sensation.

He found himself lying in a dry cave, with a crackling campfire burning brightly nearby.

A dark figure with its back to him was squatting beside the fire, fiddling with something with a stone.

Chen Mo's nerves tensed instantly, and his first reaction was to reach for the machete tucked at his waist.

Thankfully, the knife is still there.

The figure seemed to hear the noise and turned around.

The firelight illuminated his face, which was covered in several bruises.

It turned out to be Sun Dazhu.

Chen Mo gripped the knife hilt, remaining silent, his eyes filled with vigilance.

Sun Dazhu glanced at him, his voice hoarse.

"You're awake."

Chen Mo's throat felt dry.

"What are you doing here?"

Sun Dazhu lowered his head and then began pounding medicine: "I couldn't sleep in the middle of the night and felt restless, so I thought I'd go up the mountain to see if I could find anything." He continued, "When I got here, I saw you fall from above. Seeing that you were still breathing, I pulled you into this cave."

Chen Mo fell silent.

Sun Dazhu carried the mashed herbs, which had been ground into a paste, on a relatively clean piece of cloth and walked over to Chen Mo's side.