The adults were pleasantly surprised by this stroke of luck, wishing they too could transform into children and eagerly step forward, calling out, "Old mother." Even without golden cornmeal cakes, they'd be more than willing to have half a bowl of cornmeal porridge.
"Bowing for five pecks of rice" – that's what they say about backbone.
They had no such backbone now; they didn't even have the pretense of dignity. A single cornmeal cake was enough to make them bow and scrape in supplication. There was no help for it; hunger was a bitter master.
Meng Qingping had long guessed Jiang Tou'er's intentions, but he hadn't expected such a positive outcome. Before anyone could react, he made a gesture of cupped fists to Jiang Tou'er, signifying congratulations to his brother Jiang for achieving his goal and saving a portion of cornmeal porridge.
Although Meng Qingping's gesture was primarily for amusement, Jiang Tou'er took it to heart.
Indeed, basking in Meng Qingping's compliment, he became even more delighted. Seeing another old woman arrive with food, he raised his eyebrows, and anyone who didn't know him might think he had just struck a great bargain.
The dark-faced big man: Our leader, he's that easily pleased. May all you onlookers bear with him.
Jiang Tou'er, however, couldn't concern himself with such matters. As long as someone provided food for the old, weak, women, and children among the Meng clan, ensuring their survival, what did it matter if he was ridiculed?
Not to mention that no one here recognized him; even if he encountered his peers, he would still act this way.
As an escort official, the safe arrival of these exiled prisoners at their destination was the capital he could brag about for the rest of his life.
Moreover, the few who accompanied him were still young; he couldn't accumulate sins for them.
Finally, it was time for the escort officials to eat. Fu Yu, following his father's instructions, brought ten hard-boiled eggs and six salted duck eggs.
Upon seeing the salted duck eggs, Jiang Tou'er's eyes narrowed into a single line. Disregarding everyone else, he reached out and picked the one he deemed the best salted duck egg, shaking it in his hand.
"Raven-blue color, see? This salted duck egg is definitely going to be oily," Jiang Tou'er declared. Then, he grinned widely and gently tapped the larger end of the salted duck egg against the stone they were using as a temporary dining table. He then carefully peeled the shell.
Fu Xin's Cí: Watching Grandpa Jiang's movements, those who knew would realize he was peeling a salted duck egg. Those who didn't might mistake him for disarming a bomb.
"Hahaha, I knew it would be oily. Look, it's all oil!" Jiang Tou'er licked the flowing yolk oil, his eyes darting around with smug satisfaction.
The dark-faced big man: "One salted duck egg makes you this proud? Give me one too."
"I'll have one too."
"Me, me..."
"And me."
In an instant, numerous hands flitted about, the scramble for the eggs becoming quite lively.
Jiang Tou'er was tempted to grab another one to save for later, but on second thought, he decided against it, fearing he would incur the wrath of the masses.
"Alas, what a waste of good food. If only there was a small cup of wine to go with it, it would be even better." Jiang Tou'er smacked his lips, his craving for alcohol resurfacing.
He couldn't be blamed for this; the salted duck eggs were simply too delicious, stirring up his desire for a drink.
"Zhu Zi, once we escort these 'plague gods' all in one piece to Liaodong, we'll definitely get a couple of salted duck eggs and a plate of pig's head meat, and have a good drink."
"Alright, the pig's head meat is mine. Hey, speaking of Liaodong, it makes me think of Liaodong's potent liquor." The dark-faced big man licked his lips; he too craved such a treat.
"The salted duck eggs are for us two brothers. We'll definitely not return until we're drunk," Guan Hu also wanted to join the revelry.
"Alright, when we hand over our duty, we'll drink until we drop."
Without wine, they contented themselves with the fantasy, and the escort officials chatted merrily.
Fu Xin's Cí: She had plenty of white wine in her space. Seeing Grandpa Jiang's craving, she really wanted to take out a small bottle for him to taste, thinking it would surely be better than the wine of this era. However, unable to explain the origin of the wine, she had to give up.
"Sister Fu, what are you thinking about?" Qi He, seeing Fu Xin's Cí silent for so long and constantly watching Grandpa Jiang and his group, couldn't help but ask.
"I wasn't thinking about anything in particular, just wondering when we'll reach Liaodong." Walking entirely on foot, Fu Xin's Cí felt quite apprehensive. Especially whenever she thought of the various modes of transportation in her space, even her small sixteen-inch "little iron donkey" for getting around would be better than simply walking.
Under the sun, which blazed like a fireball, she felt as if she would soon be fried.
"I'm in a hurry too; we've been walking for over a month now," Qi He said, glancing at the scorching sun in the sky before letting out a sigh.
"Those people really aren't doing us any favors. They're walking with such small steps, I thought they were just swaying in place."
"That's called marching in place."
"Marching in place."
"What is marching in place?" Qi Tian was also curious about what his grandniece meant by marching in place.
"Marching in place is like this." Bored, Fu Xin's Cí enthusiastically stood up and demonstrated what marching in place was for them.
Jiang Tou'er found it quite novel, and squinting, he asked Fu Xin's Cí, "Fu girl, is this what you call marching in place? I must say, you've learned it remarkably well. Those lazy, shirking little rascals seem to fool old me just like that."
The more Jiang Tou'er thought about it, the angrier he became. He then asked Fu Xin's Cí, "Fu girl, do you have any tricks for moving forward?"
"Shout a command for them to march in step. If they don't, their heels will be stepped on."
"Shout a command, march in step, and if they don't, their heels get stepped on." Qi He found what Sister Fu said very interesting.
Fu Xin's Cí felt like pressing her forehead; when did Brother Qi become such a busybody?
However, the extended meaning of that phrase was derogatory, and she couldn't casually say it lest people overthink it.
"Marching in step is like this." To the curious Qi He, Fu Xin's Cí answered all questions.
Watching Fu Xin's Cí stand ramrod straight opposite them, not only Qi He but Jiang Tou'er and the others were intrigued.
Under their searching gazes, Fu Xin's Cí rhythmically swung her small arms, coordinating with her firm little steps, and shouted the command: "March in step, one two one, one two one, one two one... Halt!"
"Wow, I never knew walking could have such momentum!" Qi He also mimicked Sister Fu's gait for a few steps.
"You know what, I think this way of walking is quite effective. We'll walk like this later." Jiang Tou'er's grin widened even further. He thought this method of walking was feasible and even beckoned to Fu Xin's Cí: "Fu girl, later you help Grandpa Jiang shout that marching command."
Fu Xin's Cí agreed without hesitation; this was nothing for her.
Qi He became displeased. How could he let Sister Fu shout commands for those stinky exiles? He had seen their eyes, filled with ill intentions, and even their smiles were lewd.
Sister Fu, a young girl, shouting commands for them? Did they deserve that? The thought of those lewd glances made Qi He increasingly uncomfortable; he would do it for Sister Fu.
Fu Xin's Cí understood Qi He's words and stared in stunned silence for a long moment before smiling, happily agreeing. However, she hadn't expected Qi He to think so much.
They say children of ancient times matured early; today, she had witnessed it.