Chapter 20: Peasant Uprising Imminent
Wang led the way, his two buckets the first to be filled.
He threaded the two buckets onto a carrying pole, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and then slowly pivoted to turn around. He had to pivot very slowly, careful not to sway, otherwise he would spill the precious water. In this year of severe drought, even a single drop spilled would cause immense heartache.
However, just as he finished turning, the sight behind him completely stunned him.
Without warning, a strange small hill, piled high with white orbs, had appeared behind him.
Wang's mouth gaped open, unable to close for a long moment. The buckets slid from his shoulder, clattering to the ground. Both buckets' worth of water spilled, not a single drop remaining.
A nearby villager gasped, heartbroken, "Wang, how could you drop the buckets? That's... two full buckets of precious water!"
He was so distraught, he felt like kneeling down and scooping up the mud and water together.
Wang stiffly uttered, "Everyone... look... behind us..."
The villagers by the pond all turned their heads.
Another turned, then froze again!
In the blink of an eye, the entire group of villagers seemed to have been struck by a paralysis spell, all holding stiff, awkward poses, staring blankly at the small hill of white orbs behind them.
One villager opened his mouth to cry out, but Wang lunged forward like an arrow and clapped a hand over his mouth.
The other villagers snapped back to reality. This was Gao Family Village; they were here to steal water, so they couldn't make a racket. If caught, they'd die of shame on the spot.
Wang approached the hill of orbs, picked one up, and sniffed it. He whispered, "This is flour, right? I can't be mistaken? It smells like flour, just with very large granules. Could it be flour that got damp and clumped into balls?"
Another villager nodded. "Couldn't be anything else. Just now, I was wondering why I suddenly smelled flour. I thought I was so hungry I was hallucinating."
Wang asked, "How did these flour balls appear?"
"I didn't see anything!"
"Me neither."
"I was drawing water."
Wang gritted his teeth. "It must be someone from Gao Family Village, who quietly placed them behind us when we weren't looking. That's the only possibility."
The villagers exchanged bewildered glances.
"The people of Gao Family Village are that kind?"
"Where would they get so much flour?"
"Why would they clump the flour into balls?"
"Even if they had so much flour, they wouldn't just give it to us for free."
"And to quietly place them behind us in the middle of the night, this..."
Wang scanned left and right, front and back, searching the entire vicinity, but saw no one. He then popped a flour ball into his mouth, chewed it, and nearly sneezed from the raw, unpalatable taste. He murmured, "It really is flour! Flour given by someone from Gao Family Village. This is the only explanation. They knew we came to steal water in the middle of the night, and to save our pride, they didn't expose us face-to-face. Out of pity for our poverty, they left this pile of flour balls for us to eat."
The villagers found this explanation utterly unbelievable, yet, outlandish as it was, they couldn't conceive of any other possibility.
Wang whispered, "Everyone, pour the water back into the pond. Use your buckets to scoop up the flour. Fill as much as you can. Remember, this absolutely cannot be wasted. Be even more careful than when carrying water. If anyone spills flour, I'll beat them to death with my own fists."
The villagers responded, half-laughing, half-crying, "Wang, you don't need to tell us that. If we spill this flour, we'll beat ourselves to death; you won't have to lift a finger."
The group quickly emptied the water from their buckets back into the pond!
They dared not scoop the flour directly with wet buckets, as it would turn into a sticky mess. So they held their damp buckets up to the wind, swinging them repeatedly in the air, until they were dry. Then, they rushed to the flour hill, filled two buckets, carefully hoisted them onto their poles, and gingerly began to tiptoe away.
They were more careful than a man holding his newborn child on the night of its birth, terrified that a single stumble might send a flour ball rolling onto the sandy ground, a loss that would pain them beyond words.
The group, carrying their precious flour, departed. Once outside the village, the leader, Wang, suddenly set down his buckets, clasped his hands together, and bowed deeply toward Gao Family Village. "This generous gift today," he declared, "I, Wang Er, will not forget. I shall repay it in the future."
He didn't know whom he was thanking, but it had to be some benevolent elder in Gao Family Village. Today, he was merely a water thief, and that kind person likely wished to remain unseen, sending the flour in secret. One day, he vowed, he would return openly and offer his thanks with dignity.
Hearing his words, Li Daoxuan finally learned his name: Wang Er!
That name... it felt familiar, as if he'd seen it somewhere before.
A thought sparked in his mind. He quickly opened the Ming Dynasty historical materials he’d been reading for days, searching through them. Finally, in the book *Luchao Jishuo*, he found the name Wang Er:
"In the year Chongzhen ascended the throne, a great famine struck Qin Province, leaving a thousand li barren. Wang Er of Baishui gathered followers, smeared their faces with ink, stormed into Chengcheng County, and killed the magistrate."
The book *Liehuang Xiaoshi* described the events with even greater vividness:
"In the Dingmao year of Tianqi’s reign, Shaanxi suffered a great drought. Zhang Yaocai, the magistrate of Chengcheng County, was exceptionally cruel in collecting taxes, making life unbearable for the people. A man named Wang Er secretly rallied several hundred individuals, gathering them on the mountains, all with faces smeared in ink. Wang Er loudly declared, 'Who dares to kill Magistrate Zhang?' The crowd roared in unison, 'I dare!' This was repeated three times. They then stormed the city. The gatekeepers dared not resist. They went straight into the county office and killed Zhang Yaocai. The group then retreated to gather in the mountains."
Historians define Wang Er's uprising as "the starting point of the late Ming peasant rebellions." In other words, the pivotal figure in the peasant wars that ultimately toppled the Great Ming Dynasty was this man. Figures like Li Zicheng and Zhang Xianzhong were his juniors.
Li Daoxuan quietly closed his browser, shifting his attention back to the diorama box.
Wang Er and his people had already withdrawn from the diorama box's visible area.
They left behind only footprints on the ground, and the spot where the flour had been piled was scraped clean, as if a layer of topsoil had been dug away.
Li Daoxuan sighed softly. "Since you are the harbinger of the late Ming peasant wars, it seems it won't be long until the flames of rebellion reach Gao Family Village. We will meet again."
Turning his gaze back to the dilapidated houses of Gao Family Village, Li Daoxuan knew that once the peasant uprising erupted, the village would inevitably be drawn into the conflict. If he remained in front of the diorama box, sweeping away armies with his hand, he could certainly protect his 'little people.'
But if he fell asleep, or went out to do something, his 'little people' would be in grave danger.
The Hakka walled house wouldn't be ready for over a month, but Wang Er's uprising, it seemed, was already imminent.
He couldn't foolishly wait for the Hakka walled house. He needed to find something else to protect them beforehand.
With that thought, his eyes involuntarily scanned his home, searching for anything that could help his 'little people.' Soon, he noticed a rusted piece of tin peeling off a clothes rack.
Li Daoxuan's eyes lit up: A piece of scrap metal! This could be used to make iron armor for his 'little people.'
However, these villager 'little people' had low combat effectiveness; even with iron armor, they might not be able to defeat bandits and government soldiers. They needed more reliable protection.
His gaze then fell on a pile of Lego bricks beside his desk. *Heh heh*, he thought, "This can hold them over until the Hakka walled house is built."
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