To hold out against the barbarians for five days was a torment for the people and soldiers of Deer City.
After the desperate last stand, the army had already exhausted its reserves.
By the afternoon of the second day, the granary was empty—even watery porridge had to be made with grains counted one by one.
Chai Xiaomi had just given her own bowl of porridge to the children when suddenly a big, white steamed bun appeared in her arms, wrapped in paper with only one corner exposed. She blinked in surprise.
Someone had passed by her like a gust of wind, thrusting the bun into her arms before drifting off like a ghost, without a single word.
She looked up and spotted the 'bun feeder' sitting deliberately on the farthest stone step, silently lowering his head to weave a grass rope. His sharp-profile side face was set tight, his thin lips pressed into a straight line, and even the strands of his hair exuded a 'stay away' aloofness.
Good heavens, he was still angry.
She crept over pitifully, crouched down, rested her head on the young man’s knee, and looked up at him: "At a time like this, everyone can only drink porridge. I heard from the two guards that only those holding important military posts get steamed buns."
"Lili, you’re so amazing. Yesterday, thanks to you, the demon beasts couldn’t break into the city."
Wu Li’s hand, weaving the grass rope, suddenly stopped.
Looking down at the fluffy little head on his knee, his heart skipped a beat.
He quickly averted his gaze and snorted coldly: "In just one day, you’re already calling them ‘Big Brother.’ In a few more days, you’ll probably spill all your family secrets."
He paused, his voice muffled, as if squeezed out through gritted teeth:
"Unlike me—I’ve given everything from head to toe, and in the end, I’ve only got an empty title. Can’t even trade it for one secret."
"Oh, don’t be mad, don’t be mad, okay?" She gently shook his knee. "Everyone has things they can’t talk about. We all have our little secrets. How about this—you make another request, and I’ll definitely fulfill it."
"Fine," Wu Li said, his long lashes lifting slightly as his deep eyes finally looked at her. "Give me a child. If one’s not enough, two will do."
Chai Xiaomi was silent for a moment.
Then she curved her lips and said, "Alright."
But just that brief pause was enough for him to catch on.
"You’re lying." He stared into her eyes, his voice suddenly turning cold. "You clearly can’t do it."
The corner of his mouth twitched—half a smile, half self-mockery:
"Mimi, back in the day, you could still spin a whole story about being pregnant. But now, your lying skills are getting worse and worse, aren’t they?"
He didn’t look at her again. His eyes drooped, his lashes hiding his gaze, making it impossible to read what was inside. He pulled his knee away from her hands, turned sideways, and his shoulders tightened stiffly.
After sitting for a while, he felt he hadn’t made his point clear enough, so he stood up to leave.
Chai Xiaomi was startled: "Where are you going?"
"Stay right here. Don’t go anywhere. I’m going to guard the city tower," he said flatly.
She took two steps after him and stuffed the bun back into his arms: "You eat the bun. I’m not hungry."
He walked straight ahead without even turning his head: "If you’re not hungry, throw it away."
Chai Xiaomi: "..."
She stood there, and a tug at her skirt made her look down. It was the little girl who had sat the most obediently while listening to stories earlier.
Even at night, the child would cling to her side while sleeping.
"Sister, why are your eyes red?" The girl’s voice still had a babyish lilt, meltingly cute. "Did you and that big brother have a fight?"
“It’s his sister who made him angry.” Chai Xiaomi crouched down to look the little girl in the eye. “I have a secret—he really, really wants to know it, but I just can’t tell him.”
More importantly, she didn’t know how to say goodbye. Every time she thought of leaving him alone in this world, her heart ached as if twisted by a knife.
The little girl tilted her head, thought for a moment, and blinked her eyes. “Doesn’t sister tell big brother that she really likes him?”
Chai Xiaomi smiled. “Of course I have. But just saying I like him isn’t enough.”
“Then say it a few more times.” The little girl looked at her seriously, as if sharing some profound wisdom. “Whenever I make my mama angry, I just keep calling her ‘mama, mama’ until she looks at me, and then I give her a hug, and she’s not angry anymore.”
She reached out her tiny hand and gently patted Chai Xiaomi’s hand, speaking earnestly like a little adult trying to comfort her. “Sister should go hug big brother too, and call him a few more times. He definitely won’t be angry anymore.”
Chai Xiaomi couldn’t help but laugh at her mature little act. She reached out and pinched the girl’s cheek. “Alright, I’ll go find him right now!”
The little girl nodded, but her gaze unconsciously drifted toward the steamed bun in Chai Xiaomi’s hand before quickly dropping.
Chai Xiaomi followed her gaze, her heart softening. She broke off half the bun and pressed it into the little girl’s hand. “Here, take this and eat it.”
The little girl held the bun, her eyes sparkling as she looked up. “Thank you, sister.”
“Thank your big brother instead. He’s the one who saved it for me.”
“As for this,” Chai Xiaomi wrapped up the small half remaining in her hand and tucked it into her qiankun pouch, “sister is going to take this to your big brother to eat, okay?”
She ran out of the yard. The streets on either side were lined with temporarily placed wounded. She carefully wove her way through, tiptoeing between the gaps of stretchers.
She hadn’t run far when she suddenly heard a commotion not too far away.
“Old Zheng! Old Zheng! What’s wrong with you!”
Chai Xiaomi stopped mid-step and followed the sound. In a corner, a middle-aged soldier was convulsing violently, his face pale green, sweat pouring down his forehead in large drops.
The wounded men around him panicked but could do nothing.
“Where’s the medic? Someone go get a medic!”
“The medics are all at the north city gate. There are even more critically injured there—they can’t come!”
Chai Xiaomi squeezed into the crowd. She saw a middle-aged soldier collapsed on the ground, his face flushed red, lips chapped and peeling. One hand clutched a wound on his abdomen, and he was burning with fever, muttering deliriously.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Wound infection. He’s had a fever for two days now,” said someone nearby. “We ran out of medicine long ago. He’s been toughing it out.”
Chai Xiaomi crouched down and pressed her hand to his forehead. It was scalding.
She spotted a half bucket of cold water against the wall, picked up a torn piece of clothing, soaked it, wrung it partly dry, and laid it on his forehead. Then she tore another strip, folded it into a square, dipped it in water, and gently wiped his neck and armpits.
“Miss, what are you doing?”
“Physical cooling.”
The soldier’s rambling gradually quieted, and his breathing was less labored.
“Is there any medicine?” Chai Xiaomi stood up. “Fever reducers, anti-inflammatories—anything at all will do.”
“There’s none, miss,” the man who answered said with a bitter smile. “We couldn’t get any herbs long ago. Just look around these streets—everywhere you see wounded civilians and soldiers. Their injuries are only roughly bandaged. The cloth strips are wrapped layer after layer, and there isn’t even a speck of medicine powder to sprinkle on them.”
"The city has run out of food and supplies long ago," another voice cut in, carrying a sense of calm resignation. "To save grain for the soldiers on the front lines and the townspeople, many of the wounded have been lying about having already eaten when rations are handed out."
"Anyway, we're all about to die, so no point competing with you for food."
Chai Xiaomi looked up and glanced around.
The wounded all around her were gaunt, sallow, and haggard, barely clinging to life.
At this rate, even if they managed to hold out until the end, these people would die of illness and starvation.
Suddenly, an idea struck her. She buried her head in her qiankun pouch and started rummaging through its contents.
That's right, that's right—she'd almost forgotten!
Earlier, while strolling through the night market in Thousand Fog Town, she had made a number of small purchases. Among them were medicine for sword wounds, a hemostatic powder, an anti-inflammatory herbal powder, and several bottles of medicinal wine for bruises and sprains.
She had bought them on a whim at the time, finding them amusing, but she never expected them to be a lifeline now.
The more she searched, the more she regretted it. If only she had known, she would have bought a few hundred catties of rice to stash inside.
What was most critical now wasn't medicine—it was food.
How could anyone have the strength to fight off illness without a full stomach?
Yet the people around her, upon seeing the bottles and jars she pulled out, still had their eyes light up.
"Is this young lady a living Bodhisattva sent from heaven? Who travels around carrying so much medicine?"
One person pointed excitedly toward the north of the city. "They need it more over there! There are many severely wounded soldiers who might not even make it through the night..."
"Alright, I'll go deliver the medicine right now!" Chai Xiaomi left some medicine there and headed north.
Not long after, a loud roar came from the sky.
Everyone looked up sharply.
The demonic beasts had returned. Thunder, fire, water, and lightning crashed repeatedly against the barrier wall, the once steady glow now much dimmer than the day before.
One of the beasts charged up into the sky, then changed direction, diving straight toward them.
Just as it was about to collide with the barrier, the people instinctively closed their eyes.
Then came the sound—"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—"
Arrows shot out, tearing through the sky.
Three arrows embedded themselves precisely into the beast's wings and tail. The creature let out a shrill, agonized screech, lost its balance in the air, and spiraled downward.
"Look! It's that young man again!" someone pointed toward the city walls. "I saw him shoot down several sky beasts yesterday."
"Wow! If his aim is that good, why didn't he shoot the beast in the head?"
"Maybe he's kind-hearted and can't bear to kill?"
