Since the beginning of this spring, there had been very little rain. Occasionally, a few drops would fall, but before the ground could even get wet, the rain would stop. Fortunately, the Baishui River flowed past Linzhuang, making irrigation convenient, so the crops in Linzhuang remained unharmed. However, as the drought worsened, the river’s water level dropped lower and lower. Just as the flow was about to dry up completely, the heavens finally opened up with continuous rain, bringing relief to the villagers.
Gradually, however, joy turned to worry. It seemed as though the sky had sprung a leak—the rain simply wouldn’t stop. Though the downpour wasn’t particularly heavy, if it continued like this, a flood was inevitable. The Zixingsi Temple was crowded daily with worshippers, their prayers shifting from begging for rain to begging for it to cease. Perhaps moved by their sincerity, the Buddha ordered the Dragon King to halt the rains, and after nearly half a month, the downpour finally stopped.
With the skies clearing, the relieved villagers were soon struck by another shock—a flood of refugees pouring into Baishui Town.
Compared to other parts of the province, Baishui Town had been relatively unaffected, whether during the drought or the incessant rains. The hardest-hit areas were Liangping Town and its surrounding villages. The drought had left their fields barren, and when the rains finally came in autumn, they started as a drizzle before turning into an unrelenting deluge. The land was soon submerged in endless water, causing countless casualties.
On the second day of the heavy rains, Li Qingyun sent Li Ziyang to warn Erlang: “Throughout history, severe droughts are always followed by floods. Given the current situation, the rains won’t stop anytime soon. Liangping Town sits on low ground—if flooding occurs, it will be the first to be submerged. It’s best to leave as soon as possible.” The Li family planned to seek refuge in the capital with Li Ziyi, and Li Cuilan and her husband would accompany them. Li Ziyang asked Erlang about his plans, urging him to decide quickly.
When Dalang had first moved to Baishui Town, Erlang had followed to help establish Linzhuang. He remembered that the journey had mostly been uphill—Baishui Town was clearly higher in elevation than Liangping Town. Concerned for his parents, he made up his mind, packed their belongings, and led his family to Baishui Town, forcibly bringing along Yuan Li’s reluctant parents and his own aunt and uncle.
On the way, the four elderly, unable to endure the hurried journey, fell ill.
Li Cuimei anxiously asked, “Where’s Cuie? Why didn’t you bring her along?”
“Don’t worry, Third Sister,” Li Cuihong, who had just entered the room, replied. “We stopped by the Wang family on our way out. They were also packing, planning to follow Tang Manyun back to her family home. That area is much higher than Liangping Town—Cuie should be safe.”
Relieved, Li Cuimei murmured, “That place is indeed higher, but it’s in the opposite direction from Baishui Town. Cuie will be even farther from me.”
Li Cuihong chuckled. “Oh, Third Sister, survival comes first right now. It’s not like Cuie is settling down at Tang Manyun’s family home. After getting married, she barely stayed home before following Wang Hongwen to Shengcheng to accompany him in his studies. Once this disaster passes and things calm down, Wang Hongwen will return to Shengcheng, and Cuie will go with him.”
Worry had clouded Li Cuimei’s judgment. Realizing she was just missing her sister-in-law, she said nothing more.
Noticing Dalang’s conflicted expression, Li Cuimei knew he was concerned about Dong Shi and asked Erlang and his wife, “What about Shilang? Did you tell him to leave as soon as possible?” Dong Shi lived with Shilang.
Li Cuihong scoffed, and Erlang replied, “Shilang listens to his wife. They said they’d wait and see. Over the years, they’ve acquired a lot of land and bought two shops—they can’t bear to leave it all behind.”
“Fools,” Dalang growled, his face dark. “What use is wealth if they lose their lives?”
But shouting at someone who wasn’t there was pointless. Li Cuimei turned to Li Cuihong. “Why did only Aunt and Uncle come? Where’s Xiaosuo? And his son—why aren’t they here?”
“Zhou Xiaosuo disappeared years ago. He killed his own son.”
Shocked, Dalang and Li Cuimei demanded an explanation, but Li Cuihong was exhausted and didn’t want to talk anymore.
With four elderly people falling ill simultaneously, Li Cuihong, Lin Juan, and Lin Xia had spent the journey caring for them. By the time they reached Dalang’s home, the three women were utterly spent. Lin Juan and Lin Xia collapsed unconscious the moment they saw Dalang’s family. Li Cuihong, slightly better off, helped Li Cuimei settle the elderly and relayed their conditions to Tong Shi before finally getting a chance to speak with Dalang and his wife.
When Li Cuihong showed no intention of continuing, Dalang and Li Cuimei turned to Erlang.
Lin Meng had gone traveling with friends after summer break, planning to return only during winter vacation. So, during the journey, while the women cared for the sick, Erlang was the only man, responsible for driving the cart and handling all other tasks. Exhausted, he answered weakly:
“After Xiaosuo divorced Cuilian, he was rarely home. He claimed to be doing business outside, but instead of bringing money back, he often asked the family for it. No amount of scolding from Aunt and Uncle worked. One day, Xiaosuo returned home, grabbed his son by the throat, and when Uncle tried to intervene, Xiaosuo kicked him down, refusing to let go. He claimed the boy wasn’t his—that the woman had slept with someone else, gotten pregnant, and that’s why she’d been so easily tricked into becoming his concubine.”
Pausing to catch his breath, Erlang continued, “Uncle was badly hurt by the kick and couldn’t get up. By the time Aunt came in from outside, the boy was already dead. Ignoring her pleas, Xiaosuo ransacked the house, taking all the silver and Aunt’s jewelry before vanishing. He never returned. Over the years, Aunt and Uncle’s health has only worsened.”
Just then, a servant announced that the meal was ready. Dalang ordered it brought in, while Li Cuimei shook the drowsy Li Cuihong awake, insisting she and her husband eat before sleeping—otherwise, it would harm their health. Everything else could wait until after they’d rested.
When Dalang and his wife moved to Baishui Town, they only brought servants who had no ties to Liangping Town. Those who stayed behind at the Lin family estate were locals. Erlang had left in a hurry, and those servants, concerned for their families, had asked to settle their affairs first. Having once been a maid herself, Li Cuihong couldn’t bear to forcibly separate families, so she let them stay behind, leaving them the address to follow later. Thus, Erlang arrived without a single servant.
Over the next few days, the Lin family servants arrived at Linzhuang one after another, most bringing their entire families—even relatives and neighbors in tow.
The originally prepared servants’ quarters couldn’t accommodate them all. Under Liu Ma’s direction, they disregarded family units, separating only by gender and squeezing into two areas. As for the dependents—though not Lin family servants—they had been neighbors back in Liangping Town, and the Lins couldn’t abandon them. They were temporarily housed in the Lin family inn.
But that wasn’t the end of it. A few days after Erlang left, Liangping Town was submerged. The Lin family servants, heeding Erlang and his wife’s advice, had left with their families in time, escaping unhurried and unharmed. Survivors from Liangping Town, fleeing in groups, encountered the Lin servants, learned of their safe destination, and followed them.
As the floodwaters rose, submerging Liangping Town and its neighboring low-lying areas, the exodus to Baishui Town grew into a massive refugee wave. Thousands crowded outside Baishui Town’s walls. Some, seeing people heading toward Linzhuang, followed, and soon the village was overrun. Anything edible in the fields was stripped bare.
With no food left in the fields, the refugees began forcing their way into villagers’ homes, looting and robbing. The Lin family’s high, sturdy walls kept them out, but the outer villagers suffered. Though they’d trained in martial arts under the Lins for years, they were no match for the sheer numbers. Many homes were ransacked.
Even the dependents of Lin servants staying at the inn weren’t spared. Though they insisted they were also refugees, the fact that they had shelter and food made their claims unbelievable. In truth, the refugees fought among themselves over scraps, all for the sake of survival.
This couldn’t go on. Lin Zhongsui organized the later-arriving Lin family guards and all male servants trained in martial arts into teams, dividing them into three groups. Lin Zhongsui led a small contingent to town to report the situation and seek official aid for the refugees. Erlang led the servants to patrol inside the walls, preventing intruders. Dalang and the guard captain took the majority of the guards, rallying the villagers to drive the refugees out of Linzhuang.
Seeing the refugees—weak, gaunt, and starving—Dalang and the guards pitied them. But pity didn’t stop the expulsion. Hunger had turned these people into bandits. If there had been fewer, they might have found a way to help, but the numbers were overwhelming. Even if the Lin family emptied their granaries, it wouldn’t feed the refugees for long—and it would only put the Lins in danger.
When the refugees first began flooding in, the Qi family had received advance warning and prepared defenses. Every Qi servant and tenant mobilized, forming a protective perimeter around Qizhuang.
The Qi family was unlike the Lins. Their servants were trained to be ruthless—women and children included—showing no mercy in a fight. Any refugee daring to trespass was met with immediate, brutal retaliation, leaving them dead or severely injured. The refugees, desperate for food and survival, quickly learned to steer clear. Qizhuang’s crops suffered minimal damage, and its tenants were spared.
After driving off the refugees and leaving a patrol team behind, Steward Qi personally led a force to assist Linzhuang, whose territory was several times larger. Unlike the Lin guards, who hesitated to harm fellow refugees, the Qi servants attacked indiscriminately, caring little for casualties. Their ferocity shocked the Lin guards, but it worked—the refugees retreated swiftly.
Lin Zhongsui and his group, riding to town, faced obstacles. Refugees, seeing well-equipped travelers, swarmed them, hoping for money. Having served in the imperial court for years, Lin Zhongsui was no stranger to such situations. He alternated between calming words and displays of force. But when they reached Baishui Town’s walls, the sight of the tightly shut gates and the masses outside made it clear they wouldn’t get in. They returned empty-handed.
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