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

The two took turns digging for more than half an hour, panting heavily, and the crack in the rock was only widened by less than a finger's width.

But those fish were key to their survival through the long winter.

They walked in silence down the mountain.

At the west end of the village, two more corpses wrapped in tattered straw mats were carried out. The one carrying the corpses was the deceased's son, a man in his thirties.

On the roadside, a woman was kneeling on the ground, painstakingly scraping the trunk of an elm tree with a piece of tile.

Sun Dazhu said in a low voice.

"The Zhang family at the east end of the village... last night the whole family took arsenic. Two adults and three children, not one of them survived. I heard that because they ran out of food, they didn't want to suffer anymore, so they slowly starved to death."

Chen Mo didn't speak.

This is the world he lives in.

As dusk fell, Chen Mo's leg injury started to hurt again, a sharp, stabbing pain, and his forehead was burning hot, as if he had developed a low-grade fever.

But he forced himself to stay awake.

He is waiting.

As darkness fell, that familiar interface finally resurfaced in my mind.

[Daily information has been updated, please select:]

[1. In the mass grave north of the village, a newly appeared mound was found yesterday. A broken bowl containing half a bowl of cold rice, frozen solid, was found among the grave offerings. Low risk. Digging up someone else's grave would invite criticism, and the rice might even have spoiled.]

[Second, there is a cliff at the foot of the mountain behind where a wild goat has fallen and died. Its carcass is half-buried in the snow and has already been partially eaten by crows. This is a medium-risk situation. The cliff is quite steep and difficult to traverse. The goat's flesh may have already begun to rot.]

[Thirdly, in the refugee camp thirty miles away, someone is openly selling cakes mixed with grain. These cakes are called "Guanyin clay" and are extremely cheap. However, long-term consumption will cause the stomach to swell up like a drum, eventually leading to death by suffocation. It is a high-risk situation, the journey is long, the refugee camp is chaotic, and the clay cakes themselves are poisonous.]

Chen Mo felt a chill run down his spine as he looked at the three options.

Each one is more brutal than the last.

Fighting for food with the dead in a graveyard? Scavenging carrion left by crows at the foot of a cliff? Or eating those poisonous clay cakes that will make you choke to death?

He suddenly felt incredibly rich.

Being rich is shameful.

In his arms, there was also some edible military biscuit powder.

Ultimately, his thoughts settled on the second option.

Rotten flesh is still flesh.

Seeing the meaty smell at this point is a great blessing. As long as it's handled properly—scraping off the bad parts and boiling it thoroughly in salt water—it's safe to eat.

He chose [Information 2].

In an instant, a clear image unfolded in his mind: below a snow-covered cliff, amidst a pile of rocks, lay the carcass of half a wild goat, with several black crows pecking at it—a rather gruesome scene.

late at night.

Chen Mo was enduring his fever and thinking about how to get mutton from the cliff the next day when there was another knock on the courtyard gate.

It was Sun Dazhu again.

As soon as he entered the room, he brought with him a chill, and his expression was extremely flustered.

"Chen Mo, Wang Mang... Wang Mang is looking for me."

Chen Mo sat up, leaning against the wall: "What does he want you to do?"

Sun Dazhu lowered his head, not daring to look Chen Mo in the eye.

"He said... he said my father owed his family money. If I didn't comply with him, he would... tie my father to stones and throw him into the river for turtles to eat."

The air in the room seemed to freeze.

Chen Mo's voice was calm, revealing no emotion.

"What does he want you to listen to?"

Sun Dazhu lowered his head even further, his voice becoming as soft as a mosquito's buzz.

"He told me... told me to find the location of your family's grain cellar and tell him."

Silence as death.

Chen Mo looked at Sun Dazhu's slightly trembling shoulders.

"What did you say?"

"I'm telling you... I'm telling you that your house doesn't even have a cellar, and your rice bins are all empty."

Did he believe it?

"I don't know... He... He gave me three days. If I can't find him within three days... then he... he'll attack my father..."

Sun Dazhu didn't finish speaking, but his meaning was crystal clear.

The test is here.

Chen Mo remained silent for a long time.

Sun Dazhu thought Chen Mo would kill him with a knife.

Suddenly, Chen Mo stood up and limped to the stove.

He lowered his head in front of Sun Dazhu, reached under the stove and felt around, then lifted it up forcefully.

Click.

The third brick was completely lifted up, revealing a hole.

Sun Dazhu was stunned.

After a while, he gritted his teeth, used both his hands and feet, and crawled inside.

Chen Mo then came down as well, and he lit a spare oil lamp in the cellar.

A flame lit up.

In the corner, there were two round burlap sacks, one of which was clearly full of items.

Next to the burlap sack was a small cloth bag, through which the outlines of silver dollars and copper coins could be seen.

On the wall hung a simple hunting bow, a bundle of arrows, and several gleaming woodcutting knives.

Sun Dazhu's breathing became rapid instantly.

These items... any one of these items, if left out, would be enough to drive a starving person to commit murder.

And now, they're all piled up in this little cellar.

A fortune enough to drive anyone mad.

Chen Mo's voice came from behind him, eerily calm.

"You saw it all."

"Now, you have two choices."

"First, go up and tell Wang Mang everything about the situation here. Present all of this in exchange for your father's and your own safety. If the Wang family benefits, they might even give you a few bites to eat."

"Second, help me keep this secret. Together, we will turn these things into our means of survival. But the Wang family will not let your father go, nor will they let you go."

Sun Dazhu stayed in the cellar, gazing at the grain and the money, then turned to look at Chen Mo's face behind the oil lamp, his expression unreadable.

He was trembling all over, partly from the cold and partly from fear.

This is forcing him to take sides.

Once you've made your choice, there's no turning back.

Just then—

Bang, bang, bang.

Suddenly, a fierce and violent banging sound came from outside the courtyard gate.

Immediately following was Wang Mang's extremely arrogant shout, the sound of which penetrated the door panels and the soil, clearly reaching the cellar.

"Chen Mo, open the door, open the door for me!"

"The village head has received a report that your house is hiding stolen goods, and we are going to conduct a search."

The flame of the oil lamp flickered on Sun Dazhu's violently trembling face.

He suddenly looked up at Chen Mo, and unconsciously glanced at the cellar entrance above his head.

His eyes struggled with fear, greed, and an indescribable emotion.

Outside, was Wang Mang's death warrant.

Inside was Chen Mo's life.

He was caught in the middle.