144: Only those who survive are valuable
Looking at the Great Yan territory, the Wei River divides the entire Great Yan into two.
Of Great Yan's nine provinces, four are located south of the Wei River: Cang Province, Xu Province, Yan Province, and Qing Province, collectively known by the people of Great Yan as the Southern Four Provinces.
Xu Province, Yan Province, and Qing Province are contiguous and situated at the southernmost tip of Great Yan.
Cang Province is located north of Xu Province.
Across the Wei River lies the former Old Capital of Great Yan.
This disaster in Yan Province, with the drifting black mist, aided by the clear wind, spread a thousand li a day, crossing Xu Province and Cang Province, heading straight for the Old Capital.
In Xu Province alone, tens of thousands of people unknowingly lost consciousness in their sleep, transforming into skeleton soldiers under the command of dried corpses.
Only a few individuals near Qing Province were fortunate enough to escape to Qing Province.
The remaining people could only desperately race north, trying to outrun the black mist.
* * *
On the post road in Xu Province, a peddler pushing a wheelbarrow suddenly froze in place.
The wheelbarrow tilted and fell by the roadside, its goods scattered everywhere—cloth, salt, and several packets of medicinal herbs, all covered in dirt and dust.
Carved on the shafts was the emblem of the Wanbao Merchant Guild—a black bird holding a copper coin.
The peddler, Zhang Da, stared in shock at the horizon, at the surging black mist approaching from the sky.
He squeezed out a few broken syllables from his throat: "Ah ah... run... run!"
But his legs seemed to have taken root, unable to move a single step.
"Crack!"
A whip lashed fiercely across his back. Zhang Da jolted, turning to see Old Zhao, the steward of the Wanbao Merchant Guild in Xu Province, riding a skinny horse, his face ashen.
"What are you staring at?! Waiting to die?!"
Old Zhao roared, "The black mist is here! If you don't want to become a dried corpse, hurry up and follow the caravan!"
Zhang Da then awoke as if from a dream, hastily pushing his wheelbarrow and running forward, stumbling.
But after only two turns, the wheelbarrow got stuck in a crack in the stone with a "crunch" and could no longer be pushed.
"Damn it!"
He cursed, then abandoned the cart, grabbed his satchel, and bolted towards Qing Province.
On the post road, crowds surged like a tide.
Everyone was fleeing in a desperate rush.
Some, in their panic, took out water skins, wet their clothes, and covered their mouths and noses, hoping to prevent inhaling the black mist.
The Wanbao Merchant Guild's convoy was at the very front, several carriages forming a long line, their wheels crushing the muddy road, splashing mud onto the faces of the refugees.
But no one complained; everyone desperately chased the shadow of the caravan, as if just by keeping up with them, they could survive.
"Wait for me! Please wait for me!"
An old woman fell to the ground, still clutching a child of three or four. She reached out to grab someone's pant leg ahead, but no one looked back.
"Don't stop! To stop is to die!"
Someone shrieked.
"Damn it, this method of covering the mouth and nose with wet clothes is useless. Old Wu covered his mouth and nose, and he still turned into a monster!"
"Child's urine, I heard child's urine works."
Everyone clung to this like a last straw of hope. Those who could immediately turned their backs to unbuckle their pants, while those who couldn't could only beg and plead, hoping these families with "children" would spare some.
The scene was chaotic. Zhang Da secretly glanced back, and just one look almost made him vomit his previous night's meal.
Good heavens! There were quite a few old "children" in their sixties and seventies. No wonder the smell was so pungent.
Seeing Zhang Da looking around behind him, with a look of wide-eyed astonishment, Steward Zhao waved his whip and warned him.
"What are you looking at? Don't mind them, just run."
"I've observed it; this thing, let alone child's urine, even the protective masks our guild sells are useless."
"Just run, you'll be saved once you reach Qing Province."
Zhang Da quickly nodded.
"Steward, don't worry, I know what's important."
* * *
Those who fell behind could already hear eerie sounds from within the mist—like the "clack-clack" of bones rubbing together, or the rasping cries squeezed from shriveled throats.
The black mist spread like a living entity, gradually slowing down as it neared the mountains and forests.
Everyone finally had a chance to catch their breath.
"The Wanbao Merchant Guild has talismans! They can block the black mist!" Someone shouted.
Hearing this, the crowd pushed forward even more frantically.
In the center of the caravan, inside a luxuriously decorated carriage.
Chen Huaiyang, the head shopkeeper of the Wanbao Merchant Guild in Xu Province, lifted the curtain, coldly swept a glance over the crowd behind, and whispered to the guard beside him.
"Faster, shake them off."
The guard hesitated.
"Shopkeeper, we still have our own staff behind..."
Chen Huaiyang narrowed his eyes.
"Only those who survive are staff."
The guard dared not say more and immediately ordered an acceleration.
On a small path beside the post road, several ragged villagers stumbled out. Seeing the caravan, their eyes lit up with hope.
"It's the Wanbao Merchant Guild's carriages! We're saved!"
They desperately waved, but the caravan showed no sign of slowing down.
"Don't leave us behind! Please!"
A young woman cried out, holding a baby in her arms.
But her only answer was the dull thud of carriage wheels crushing through mud and water.
The black mist was closer.
* * *
When the last group of escapees stumbled into Qing Province territory, the original team of several hundred had been more than halved.
Zhang Da, dragging a leg scratched by gravel, limped along at the tail end of the caravan.
His lips were cracked and bleeding, his vision intermittently darkening, yet he dared not stop—thirty zhang behind him, the black mist was surging over the ridgeline like a tide.
The protective shield on the Qing Province border shimmered in the sunlight, and within the shield, all was peaceful.
Victory was in sight, and everyone ran for their lives.
A few men who were lagging behind, seeing no hope of escape, suddenly turned around, drew their kindling knives, and faced the black mist.
"We're going to die either way, I'll fight these ghosts—"
Before he finished speaking, several bony claws suddenly shot out from the mist, instantly piercing their chests.
"Boom!"
Just as the black mist was about to catch up, Zhang Da was pushed into the protective shield by the surging crowd.
He collapsed onto the road, watching the black mist outside the city collide with an invisible barrier three zhang from the city wall, churning violently.
Countless distorted human faces vaguely appeared in the mist, belonging to the companions who hadn't managed to escape.
* * *
Wanbao Merchant Guild temporary encampment.
Chen Huaiyang was counting heads.
Of the Xu Province branch's original two hundred and seventy-six staff members, fewer than a hundred now stood in the courtyard.
He noticed Zhang Da's gaze and sneered, "What? Do you think I'm heartless?"
"N-no... I wouldn't dare..."
Zhang Da lowered his head, staring at his worn-out straw sandals.
"Let me tell you something."
Chen Huaiyang pulled a golden glowing talisman from his sleeve.
"This Evil-Dispelling Talisman was personally drawn by an Elder from the guild. Each one costs twenty taels of silver. The guild is willing to let us use them because we, alive, can earn two hundred taels, two thousand taels!"
He suddenly grabbed Zhang Da's collar, "And those villagers aren't even worth twenty coppers!"