Chapter 13 – Fang Yu! Don’t Refuse a Toast Only to Drink a Forfeit!

The Fang and Xu families hastily settled on a departure date before dispersing.

The main reason was that one of the Xu family’s in-laws also wanted to join them, so the Xu family needed to wait for them.

Fang Yu didn’t mind. She could leave right this very moment with her things. If not for the Xu family’s long-standing kindness, she would have preferred to go alone. But since she had inherited this body, she had to bear its karma as well.

At almost the same time, the Chen family father and sons had shut their doors and were discussing matters.

Specifically, how to deal with the Fang family. It wasn’t just Chen Li— all three of them were infuriated. But Chen Dashan and Chen Ping prided themselves on being composed, so they’d restrained themselves in public and waited to talk at home.

“Father, if you keep letting this go, the Fang father and daughter will trample your face into the dirt. I think they’ve only grown arrogant because they know someone like Master Ma came to propose marriage. That girl doesn’t know her place anymore!”

The more Chen Li thought about it, the more convinced he was of his own theory. Having suffered repeated losses at the Fang family’s hands, he was choking on his anger. No one had ever dared humiliate their family this way before. He simply couldn’t swallow it.

Chen Ping, usually more steady, tried to persuade him: “Let it be, brother. There’s still tomorrow. If they can’t pay the tax, then we’ll have proper grounds. Otherwise, if word gets out, it won’t look good.”

That only made Chen Li explode. “But what if they do pay? Then all our anger will be for nothing?”

“How could they?” Chen Ping smirked faintly. “Father is the one collecting the tax now. Haven’t the levies been going up every day? It’s only natural the Fang family’s burden would rise too. Eventually, they won’t be able to pay. Once the old man is taken away, that girl will be left alone—then she’ll be at our mercy…”

He turned to ask Chen Dashan, who was puffing away at his pipe. “Father, are we sure Master Ma still intends to take that girl? What if she gains some influence…”

Chen Dashan tapped out his pipe, his wrinkled face somber. “When I went to see Master Ma that day, he didn’t seem to have given up on the girl. He even asked me for our village’s location. I thought he might come in person. But these past days, no news at all.”

“Now I’m not sure. I fear if we act too rashly, we might anger Master Ma, and that would be a serious loss.”

“Tch! We never should’ve sent her away to begin with. Just a pretty little girl…” Chen Li muttered.

“Bah! What do you know? Compared to future prospects, what’s a woman worth? You must think long-term. Once you’ve achieved something, what kind of women won’t you be able to have?”

“…”

“So what do we do now?”

“Keep an eye on the Fang family. Tomorrow morning, I’ll go to the county to sound out Master Ma’s attitude. We can wait one more day. If he’s no longer interested…”

The three exchanged glances and dropped the matter for now.

That day, Fang Yu and her father didn’t go anywhere. They went through all their belongings, especially the kitchen items—firestones, clay bowls, iron pots—all taken out and sorted.

The large stove-pot was too cumbersome to carry. Remembering the portable cookers of later times, and knowing they had one more day, Fang Yu hurried into town and bought a medium-sized pot. She wrapped the rim with straw rope and fit it snugly into her back basket.

That way, delicate items could be placed below, and the pot inverted on top—providing both storage and rain cover.

She debated about bedding and decided to bring only one quilt. Famine migration wasn’t a leisure trip. Surviving with enough food was already fortune. Comforts had to be sacrificed.

With their luggage packed, she carried things up the mountain before dark to stash them.

In her haste, she didn’t notice the pair of eyes watching her from afar, gaze contemplative.

The next morning, the village was filled with cries and wails.

From her courtyard, Fang Yu looked down and quickly realized that the Chen family had begun collecting taxes, ledger in hand.

Villagers who had once been friendly neighbors now acted like lofty officials, their faces transformed.

Faced with the pleas of the villagers, the Chen family ruthlessly searched their homes, declaring that if the taxes weren’t made up by evening, their names would be reported and officials would come to arrest them.

Being dragged off to prison was nothing short of a world-shattering disaster for the villagers. There were pleas for mercy, kowtows, and endless cries of anguish.

Fang Yu only spared it a glance before turning away, leading her father up the mountain.

Most people’s minds were on the tax levy that day. Aside from her family and the Xu family, no one else was seen taking the mountain paths.

At the mountain pass, the Xu family and they split up tacitly, since their hiding spots were different. Fang Yu led her father toward the summit, but halfway up, she veered onto a side trail.

Old Fang opened his mouth as if to say something, but seeing his daughter’s back, he stayed silent, standing still to scan their surroundings.

Fang Yu didn’t care whether he followed. She only wanted to check whether that corpse could be seen from above.

The path was clearly seldom used. That night, she had thought she’d cleaned up well, but now it looked riddled with flaws—dried, half-wiped dark bloodstains on the ground, flecks of blackened blood on the rocks, obvious footprints where someone had stepped through…

Standing at the cliff’s edge, she peered into the abyss below, where nothing could be seen, before turning back to continue upward.

This trip she’d brought her father because she realized just how poor the bodies of this father and daughter were. On the road of famine flight, anything could happen, and walking was the most basic survival skill. If they didn’t practice now, they might not be able to keep up later.

The village was bound to be restless today. Better than sitting at home listening to the Chen family’s endless bluster, she figured they might as well forage in the mountains—and she could take the chance to train her father’s wilderness survival skills.

As they walked, she reminded him about the clothes they’d need tomorrow for the journey. In her view, short, practical garments were best—trousers with the cuffs tied.

They went over their supplies once more, ensuring nothing essential was forgotten, before turning to search the forest.

To be honest, Fang Fusheng felt strange.

He had lived in Willow Village most of his life but had only been to this mountain a handful of times. He’d once been lost in his own world, completely blind to how dire things had become.

Now, seeing with his own eyes, he finally understood why his daughter insisted they had to leave.

If even the vast forests could be scorched dry, what chance did people have?

He was deeply grateful his daughter had woken him that night, forcing him to confront reality.

Over these days of preparations, watching her take care of everything bit by bit, shame weighed on him. It should have been his role as father, yet it was a young girl who bore the burden.

He knew his own limits. It was clear his daughter had a plan, so he refrained from speaking much. Following her lead was best.

Not causing trouble was a form of help—he told himself this.

Busy as they’d been, he discovered he could even suppress his tears. That thought lifted his spirits. He would grow stronger, he vowed, and someday shield his daughter from the storms.

Last night, he had secretly gone to his wife’s grave, whispering to her for a long time. He couldn’t take her along, but he could at least spend more time with her before leaving.

He would never forget her dying wish: that he must, must take good care of their daughter, and see her safely married.

Now, with chaos on the horizon, he had abandoned hope in the Liang family. All he wished was to find a hidden refuge where he could live out his days with his daughter in peace.

Like now, simply walking behind her—so that whenever she looked back, she would see him there.

The two spent most of the day in the mountains, only heading home near dusk.

The village had grown quieter. As they strolled back leisurely, they found the Chen family father and sons waiting at their gate.

Ignoring their darkened faces, Fang Yu pushed open the courtyard door. To the three men about to erupt, she said lightly:

“The tax silver isn’t all gathered yet. Why don’t you go ahead and report our names first?”

Her airy words made their faces instantly turn ugly.

“Fang Yu! Don’t refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit!”