Chapter 494: Providing porridge to relieve disasters, buying lives to gather people

The place was bustling with people, crowded together, and everyone had a dusty face. The older ones had white beards and wrinkles on their faces, while the younger ones were no more than twelve or thirteen years old, holding sharpened wooden sticks in their hands, and were a head shorter than the homemade wooden spears.

There were more than ten thousand people, and it was endless. But now, there were more than ten thousand people gathered here, of all shapes and sizes, young and old, all different. The only thing they had in common was the red cloth tied around their foreheads. The color of the cloth was not pure, and it could be seen that it was smeared with powders such as rouge and cinnabar, and some were even worse, soaked red with blood.

This is a large group of Red Turban Army roaming around Yangzhou. To call them an army is an exaggeration; the correct term is a mob.

Zhang Wuji took a quick look and could see some people who stood out from the crowd. They were all fat and strong, but with hungry looks on their faces. Judging from the positions of the people around them, they should be small leaders in the Red Turban Army.

"A small number of leaders of this Red Turban Army are my clerks at the counter, and the majority are soldiers who fled in the war that ended the fate of the country. They know a little bit about training and organizing the army, otherwise I wouldn't be able to gather these people."

Huang Chunting's message rang in his ears, and Zhang Wuji nodded calmly. Most of the Red Turban Army everywhere in the world were like this. As long as they had a backbone to hold up the framework, they could mobilize a lot of people. When they encountered foreign soldiers, they would hide if they could, and rush forward if they couldn't. Life and death were decided by fate.

There are many young and old people among the Red Turban Army, which shows that the leader still has some skills, otherwise there would only be some young and strong people who can fight and run the best.

But their current situation was not good. Even if Zhang Wuji did not go to specifically investigate, he would hear every movement around him. His stomach was rumbling like a drum and he felt empty. If they did not solve the problem of food and clothing, this Red Turban Army of tens of thousands would probably collapse on the spot and become refugees.

There was a man kneeling in front of Zhang Wuji. He was wearing half a set of armor and even his helmet was not of the standard type. It must have been found from somewhere. A red necklace was fluttering on the helmet, but the man had his hands tied and did not dare to look up.

"General Sharp, the leader of the Red Turban Army of the Southern Sixth Route, greets the general and thanks the general for coming to our aid and saving a massacre."

Not far away was the city of Yangzhou, filled with black smoke and with broken walls. Countless corpses were lying scattered around, including both barbarians and Han people. The air was filled with a strange burnt smell, which made these people with empty stomachs swallow their saliva continuously, followed by bouts of dry heaving.

Zhang Wuji stood there holding the knife, silent, only to hear Sharp say: "Yangzhou garrison commander Zhao Yulong surrendered to the Mongols, causing Yangzhou to fall. Only 10,000 people in the city were able to escape."

"At that time, Li Wenguang, the leader of the Red Turban Army of the Southern Sixth Route, who was lingering nearby, intended to surrender to the Mongols and exchange tens of thousands of lives for wealth and glory. Sharp happened to be at the right time and got wind of it, so he seized power in one fell swoop."

He pursed his cracked lips and said, "We are only a few tens of thousands of people. The daily loss of food and grass for people and horses is already astronomical. We have no choice but to pull grass and gnaw trees. We are running out of ammunition and food. Some villains have defected to the Mongols, attracting the Mongols' iron cavalry to encircle and suppress us. If the general had not arrived in time, I'm afraid there would only be tens of thousands of bones here."

Zhang Wuji pointed his finger at the scabbard and waited for a moment before speaking: "As fellow Han people, we should help each other, but why did you tie your own hands?"

Sharp knelt on the ground and said, "Xia has an unwelcome request. Our army's granary is now empty and we don't even know where to get our next meal. I hope the general will be kind enough to accept these tens of thousands of people."

Without looking up, he said in a muffled voice: "Most of these people are from good families, working as poor farmers, but they were forced to flee due to the invasion of barbarians. They gathered together to form an army because they could not survive. They are loyal and righteous. Those who were disloyal have left long ago. The rest are all loyal and good people. I hope the general will have mercy and give them a way to survive. I am willing to commit suicide here to relieve the general of his worries!"

The number of tens of thousands was too large, and the rebel army did not dare to accept them, not to mention the consumption of food and grass for tens of thousands of people. If they were to accept them all, it would seem that they were much stronger with more soldiers and generals, but the rebel army had tens of thousands of sand in it, and it was not certain whether they were still the ones in charge.

The people around could hear it clearly, and there was some commotion after hearing it. Some people even whispered to persuade him not to commit suicide. This person must have some reputation in this rebel army. However, if a person is hungry, he will not be able to retain any strength. Their voices were like mosquitoes. "Accept all of it, without leaving a single person behind?"

Zhang Wuji asked loudly. Sharp gritted his teeth and said, "No one should be left behind!"

"Hehehe!"

Zhang Wuji laughed and said, "You have thrown a huge burden to me. Looking at the world, there are dozens of rebel armies. Which one dares to accept people so unrestrainedly? Even if they accept it, they will be dragged to death."

The crowd was in an uproar. This was not Sharp's first time to surrender. However, even if the Red Turban Army leaders accepted him, they would only accept young and strong men. As for the elderly and children, they would not accept any.

Sharp did not stop anyone who wanted to leave, so there were only a few young and strong men left in the army. Those who were able to stay were all grateful for his loyalty. The rest were all old, weak, and sick. They might still have a chance of survival if they followed the main force, but if they died alone, they would probably have no one to bury their bones or build a monument for them.

"To be honest, I have food, and plenty of it," Zhang Wuji said, and countless eyes from the crowd turned to him. If eyes had temperature, they could gather thousands of heats.

He smiled, bent down and looked at Sharp: "But what use and value do I have for these old and young people? Now is a chaotic world, and the first one who does good deeds and has a kind heart will die!"

Sharp was silent for a moment: "Even doing some odd jobs is fine. They eat little, and one meal from a strong man is enough for the three of them. Two meals a day can be reduced to one meal a day. They, they..."

As he spoke, his voice gradually became lower. The old, weak, sick and disabled were the least valuable in this chaotic world. Even if there were hundreds of young and strong people in the crowd, they could not afford such a high price.

Zhang Wuji stood up straight and faced the crowd. Everyone could see his handsome and heroic face. He clapped his hands, and there was a sound of armor. Groups of three appeared, holding large pots. They walked in a halting manner, just like one person. They followed orders and could be called elite soldiers.

The big pots were on the ground, emitting gusts of hot steam and the tempting aroma of rice. Zhang Wuji clapped his hands to attract everyone's attention: "I can take all the people. I also have food, but I won't accept those who are treacherous and fickle. If you want to live, be obedient."

He pointed at himself and said, "Now, take a good look at me and remember my face. I bought your lives with fine rice. Remember, you, you, you." Zhang Wuji's finger passed over each person, "All of you owe me a life. In the future, repay me with loyalty."

Listening to the sound of swallowing saliva, he bent down, pulled up a thin grass, and inserted it into the pot. The thin grass did not fall over in the pot: "Look carefully, everyone, I put thick porridge that can hold the grass, not the watery porridge that fools people."

"There is only one order, one bowl per person, and the team must not cause any disturbance. After finishing the rice in the bowl, you can line up again. If there is no rice in the pot, you can refill it. If there is any disturbance, you will be expelled immediately!"

After saying this, Zhang Wuji turned and left, leaving behind a group of soldiers and the hungry Red Turban Army. After he walked a few meters away, he spoke: "Sharp, General Xia, your life is not that precious. It is useless for me to come. I will leave it with you first!"

(End of this chapter)