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

Chen Mo didn't say anything; he placed the cake on the table.

"Who else knows about this?"

"It was me. I went there late at night. It was pitch black, and nobody could see me."

Chen Mo stared at him and asked, word by word, "You want to dig?"

Sun Dazhu's Adam's apple bobbed.

"Chen Mo... if... if there were grain down below..."

Even just a little bit...

Chen Mo's mind was racing.

Military biscuits. Human bones. Buried together.

Ideally, the fleeing soldiers would bury some food rations while fleeing, and then die nearby.

In the worst-case scenario... this would be a murder and burial pit, with the cake merely a burial offering, or it could be used as bait.

He looked down at his still swollen leg, which made walking difficult. The underground river in the system was stable and safe, but it was too far away for him to go there now.

This current predicament is the only opportunity that might yield immediate results.

He asked Sun Dazhu, "How big is the pit?"

"It was about three feet square, just a small piece. The cake was scattered on the surface, and the soil underneath was loose and fresh."

Chen Mo quickly made a mental calculation.

If it were military rations, even just half a bag of moldy, stale grain, it would be enough to support the family of three through the most difficult period of the month. But if it were a place where the rebel army had buried corpses, digging it up would alert the government or local bullies like the Wang family, which would be a huge problem.

Seeing his hesitation, Sun Dazhu grew anxious, his hands trembling.

"Chen Mo, go dig. Right now. If you find anything, I only want 30%... no, 20%, 20% is fine."

"When it gets light, with people coming and going, it'll be impossible to hide it anymore."

Chen Mo looked at his legs.

"With my legs like this, I can't even crawl steadily, I can't get across."

"Go dig. I'll wait for you here."

Sun Dazhu froze, standing there dumbfounded.

"You...you believe me?"

Chen Mo did not answer his question.

He turned around, limped to the empty rice jar in the corner, reached down and felt around at the bottom for a long time.

When he stretched out his hand again, there was a small handful of dark, mixed grains spread out in his palm.

He stuffed the grain into Sun Dazhu's hands.

"Here, take this as a deposit."

"If you find anything, you get 40%. But you must bring everything back first so I can inspect it."

This is a gamble.

Let's gamble on Sun Dazhu's conscience, and see how much of his humanity he can retain when he's driven to the brink of despair. Let's see if he understands that following me is better than going down a dark path alone.

Sun Dazhu is gone.

He probably stuffed the half-grain into the deepest part of his chest, and then disappeared into the night like a gust of wind.

Chen Mo locked the door again, but instead of returning to the kang (a heated brick bed), he moved a small stool and sat down next to the door panel.

From the village, faint, suppressed sobs could be heard, sending chills down one's spine.

Without a doubt, it's another family that couldn't hold on and someone died.

On the kang (a heated brick bed), the father, Chen Dashan, was awakened by the crying outside and then let out a series of weak coughs.

"Mo'er...who's here?"

"Sun Dazhu. Something might be wrong," Chen Mo replied.

In the darkness, Chen Dashan remained silent for a long time, so long that Chen Mo thought he had fallen asleep again.

The old man said slowly, "That child... he has resentment and guilt in his heart. You... be careful when using him."

Resentment? Ashamed?

Chen Mo pondered these words repeatedly. He knew that Sun Dazhu's younger brother had starved to death not long ago, while the Wang family had stood by and watched. His resentment was directed at the Wang family, but where did this guilt come from? Was it for the younger brother he couldn't save, or for himself?

Chen Mo couldn't figure it out, so he simply stopped thinking about it.

Now, all he can do is wait.

The sky began to lighten, and the darkest hour was finally over.

The courtyard gate was pushed open a crack very gently.

Sun Dazhu darted in carrying a bulging burlap sack.

He threw the sack on the ground with a loud thud, then leaned against the wall, panting heavily.

"Dig...dig it up."

The sack was open, and the contents tumbled out with a gurgling sound.

Seven identical dry military cakes, black and hard as stone.

Chen Mo picked up a rusty iron box about the size of his palm and pried it open. Inside were a dozen copper coins engraved with the characters "Da Qian Tong Bao" and a small piece of silver. He estimated that it weighed about one tael.

The waist knife was half rusted red, and the blade was full of nicks.

Sun Dazhu finally recovered, his voice trembling and tinged with tears.

"The pit... the pit is only so big, and the bottom is full of bones... I... I used my hands to pry it open a little, and there are more... layer upon layer..."

"When I was digging... I touched bone... it was cold... and slippery..."

Chen Mo stood up.

"Fill the hole and camouflage it before dawn."

"This pancake has been sitting for too long; it needs to be processed before we can eat it."

"But you have to break it up and cook it into a paste, otherwise if your teeth break, you won't be able to chew anything."

The two began dividing the spoils.

There were seven cakes; Chen Mo got four, and Sun Dazhu got three. Chen Mo's family had three mouths to feed, so Sun Dazhu didn't object to him taking the larger portion.

Chen Mo collected the copper coins and silver coins. In turbulent times, hard currency was more important than anything else.

Sun Dazhu took the broken rusty knife.

"Having something in my hand makes me feel at ease," he said.

Chen Mo's side has already started processing the military cakes.

He found the pickaxe he used to crack walnuts at home, placed a piece of cake on a stone slab, raised the pickaxe, and smashed it down with a loud thud.

Sun Dazhu squatted down beside him, looking at the bowl of powder, his expression even worse than if he had eaten dirt.

"This stuff... I hope I won't die from eating it?"

"Let's cook a little bit first and try it."

Chen Mo didn't say much.

He scooped a ladle of water and boiled it, then carefully sprinkled in a small pinch of cake powder and stirred it continuously with a wooden stick.

Soon, the pot turned into a sticky mess.

Chen Mo gritted his teeth, scooped up half a spoonful, blew on it, and took a bite himself.

It tastes terrible.

It was bitter and astringent, with an indescribable strange taste that irritated the throat.

But... it really does taste like grain. That primal illusion of fullness created by starch can't be faked.

"It's edible."

……

Just as dawn broke, the clanging of gongs rang out at the entrance of the Wang family compound at the east end of the village.

Wang Mang stood on the high threshold and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Fellow villagers, Master Wang is a kind-hearted man. Seeing that everyone is living in hardship, he came this morning to distribute porridge. Each household, please take your porridge and collect a spoonful."

As soon as he finished speaking, the villagers, who were so hungry they were seeing stars, rushed towards the Wang family's door from all directions like wolves smelling blood, and soon formed a long queue in front of the Wang family's house.