Mountain Villagers

"Tuya, the town down in the valley is hiring laborers..." In a deep mountain cave, a man whose weathered face betrayed no age spoke hoarsely to the woman before him.

The woman, with her dry, yellow hair and a coarse, blackened cotton robe, shook her head in terror. "Qiao, I beg you, don't even think about it..."

"But you're too weak. I can't find any food here. It's cold and filthy... If we stay like this, both you and the child will be in danger..." The man's voice was low and heavy, clearly consumed by despair himself. Yet he mustered what strength he had left to comfort his woman, repeating, "I watched from afar today. It seemed like a true nobleman, accompanied by his retinue and knights. From a distance, they looked incredibly imposing... They appear to be planning to build a castle here. Perhaps they truly need laborers..."

"But Joe, we're exiles! If that noble learns of your crime, he might kill you without a second thought!" Tuya was overcome with emotion. She refused to let her man take such a risk. Though life in the cave was agonizing, though she felt occasional damp coldness in her lower abdomen, she still wouldn't let Joe descend the mountain to deal with those clearly formidable people.

Those high-and-mighty nobles weren't easy to reason with. They wouldn't truly listen to your explanations. Just like Joe and her—they'd been flogged and thrown into prison simply for making a minor mistake while serving the noble.

Over the years, Tuya had often wondered whether she would have been better off hanged back then, or exiled instead.

She and Qiao had met on this wild, untamed land. Unlike the truly vicious murderers and utterly depraved individuals, Tuyah and Qiao, though exiled to this unfamiliar place and enduring such hardship, had no intention of joining the gangs of murderers and thieves.

Though rumors claimed those with blood on their hands had purchased indulgences to return home in glory, Tuya and Qiao were law-abiding souls who simply wished to survive.

Fortunately, this land seemed favored by the gods. Hunting was plentiful, and edible fruits grew in abundance. Since Qiao and Tuya stayed deep in the mountains, avoiding the docks, they developed neighborly bonds with the local indigenous people. Under their guidance, they quickly learned to forage for edible foods.

Their life needn't have been so arduous.

But whether it was a blessing or a curse, Tuya became pregnant at this time.

Watching Tuya unable to eat, swollen, and restless, and with the nights growing colder, Qiao carried her on his back, taking their hunted game to the market near the harbor entrance.

Many mountain dwellers like Qiao and Tuya lived this way. Qiao had been doing well, selling game and furs for salt, cotton, and even a small packet of sugar.

These were ordinary goods, nothing unusual. But on his way back, Qiao encountered men loitering near the dock entrance—patrolling, but not as lawmen. They were genuine villains, deceiving unsuspecting traders before murdering them and stealing their goods; They also took bribes from wealthy merchants to capture local natives and sell them into slavery. Their hands were stained with blood, yet in this lawless land, they were the ones living most comfortably.

Though Joe kept a low profile, hiding quietly to the side, he couldn't escape this calamity. The drunken leader stumbled down from his horse, intending to collect food from another indigenous vendor. But in his drunken stumble, he collided directly with Joe.

Already well aware of life's injustices, Qiao immediately apologized in terror. But the leader spotted the items in Qiao's arms. As "compensation" for the apology, the man ordered Qiao to hand over everything he possessed.

Under any other circumstances, the composed Qiao would have handed them over without hesitation. He understood he had entered a lawless hellscape—how could he pray for divine intervention here?

But in that moment, Qiao refused to let go. Tuya was waiting for him. Pregnant and malnourished, her body weak, her hands and feet turned to ice at night—even in the height of summer, she couldn't warm them. Tuya needed nourishment, needed food. Otherwise, not only the child, but Tuya herself might not survive the summer.

But Qiao's silent resistance enraged the man. Not only were Qiao's belongings seized, but when he returned a second time with more meat and furs, he was told outright that he would never trade again—he was blacklisted.

For these mountain dwellers living in caves, it was almost a death sentence.

Humans cannot live without salt. Though the sea lay before them, making salt privately meant certain death if discovered. And other necessities—cotton, quilts, clothing, fabrics—without them, survival itself was impossible.

Qiao returned to the mountains in despair, watching Tuya's lips grow paler by the day... He knew she needed a more comfortable illusion, a sense of peace and ease, but he was powerless to provide it.

Then one day, while hunting in the mountains, Qiao suddenly saw a massive procession entering the valley.

Nervously hiding on this side of the mountain, Qiao peered over and saw knights in full armor marching in formation behind a magnificent carriage halfway up the valley. Two figures stepped out of the carriage and gazed intently at the mountainside for a long while. Knights galloped horses in circles. Qiao couldn't fathom why such figures—apparently high nobility, people of a rank he'd never seen even before his exile—would set foot on this land for banished criminals.

Before long, more people arrived at the site. They began digging feverishly, chiseling away at the mountain rock, and even firing bricks nearby. Then, with great fanfare, construction commenced.

Jo had once served as a lowly servant to nobility. He had been exiled because a senior steward had broken a silver spoon and, afraid to own up to it, had falsely accused Jo of stealing it.

Rather than trust the favored senior valet, the master chose to believe the valet's accusation and had Qiao thrown directly into prison. Qiao never got a chance to appeal. He wasn't a dignified, well-mannered, educated senior valet. Without knowledge or eloquent words to defend himself, he was unjustly brought here.

Naturally, Joe couldn't decipher the meaning of the words posted at the notice board. but fortunately, no one else could read either. A well-dressed man stood at the wooden notice board at the foot of the mountain and read it aloud. That was how Joe learned—His Royal Highness, the Duke of Edward of the esteemed Nat Empire, commissioned by the Queen, would establish a domain in this place. In the early stages of construction, this place welcomed all—whether skilled laborers or those with other abilities. Anyone hired would receive compensation.

But below was an addendum—those accused of murder would not be accepted, nor would those accused of heinous crimes.

Those convicted of lesser offenses like theft, or those exiled for contempt of nobility, could obtain a Certificate of Residence upon securing employment.

Those granted this residency certificate would receive the protection of the Black Duke and enjoy the rights of freemen.

Qiao listened with his heart pounding. Yet unlike others whose faces lit up with joy, he knew that besides the mountain folk, those who could now live normally in the New Continent included not only merchants and exiles, but also a group of refugees.

They bore no criminal charges. Most were freemen who could no longer survive in their homelands yet refused to sell themselves into serfdom. They paid merchants to bring them to the New Continent in search of a chance to live. Over time, they thrived. Though extorted by the dockyard's desperados, their tendency to live in close-knit communities meant they were less vulnerable to bullying than the isolated mountain folk, allowing them to fare better.

This decree was nothing short of a welcome surprise for them. But for mountain dwellers like Qiao, the greatest fear was whether this order concealed hidden discrimination or even murderous intent.

After all, nobles had feigned pardons before, only to hang some villagers upon their descent.

Yet Qiao could no longer hesitate. Construction at the estate at the mountain's base was in full swing, with wages paid daily. Not only that, some people had already begun taking shifts building shelters at the foot of the mountain, even planning to settle permanently around the estate nestled halfway up the slope.

Meanwhile, Tuya grew visibly weaker by the day, and Qiao could endure it no longer.

Holding Tuya's hand, he said earnestly, "Tuya, if you die, I won't go on living either. So I'd rather fight for it!"

Tuya gazed at her husband, her eyes brimming with tears.

She lowered her head, tears falling drop by drop onto the back of her hand, thin to the point of showing bone.

The next day dawned bright and sunny. Qiao descended the mountain early, walking slowly to the halfway point where work hours were tallied. Bowing to the neatly dressed man, he said stiffly, "Sir, I'd like to work here..."

"What's your name? Where are you from? Why did you come here... Are you a mountain villager?" The supervisor, busy with his records, asked casually. But when he looked up, shock froze him. The man before him—ragged, emaciated, and severely malnourished—was clearly unlike the previous group of freedmen!

Qiao felt his heart pounding like a drum. He thought he couldn't hear any sound at all. He felt like he was shouting, but he was only trembling, whispering, "...Yes, I'm a mountain villager. I was exiled for theft... I was framed!"

Qiao blurted out hurriedly, feeling all the blood rush to his head. His mind went blank, his limbs grew cold, and then he heard the supervisor say softly, "Oh, theft. Qiao, one meal a day, one shilling. Any questions?"

One shilling!

Jo's eyes widened. In that instant, he felt alive again! He froze for a moment, then nodded frantically before the overseer could grow impatient, shouting, "No problem! Can I start now?!"

Startled by his sudden outburst, the supervisor muttered under his breath and jotted down Joe's name.

That day, for the first time in five years, Joe ate bread and received a shilling.

It had been an eternity since he'd held money—not bartered goods, but an actual shilling. His body ached terribly; he was severely malnourished. Mountain folk didn't live long, and Qiao had once thought he'd die in these hills.

But on this evening, Qiao had received a solid loaf of black bread at noon. The bread that had once seemed dry and unpalatable to him now tasted like the finest delicacy as he wolfed it down.

He carefully tucked the shilling away with the half loaf of black bread left over from lunch. Then, avoiding everyone, he walked over an hour along the mountain path before finally returning to the cave where Tuya lived.

That night, Tuyah, unable to stomach the blood-tinged boiled meat and baked potatoes due to her pregnancy, took that half loaf of black bread and devoured it in large bites. Only after finishing did she blush with embarrassment, feeling ashamed of her own greed.

Qiao was overjoyed. He handed the shilling to Tuya. She touched it, and the two gazed at the coin, then at each other, their eyes gradually filling with the light of hope.

Author's Note:

Thanks to Tangyuan Nuonuo, Sweeping Monk, and 19394168 for their support.