Chapter 19: Isn't It Just Salt? I Have Plenty of It

Clutching the burlap sack in his hand, Su Yanwen quickened his pace.

"Is that Old Su?"
"Didn't he die?"
"Is he a man or a ghost?"

Everyone he encountered along the way veered away from him. Their eyes were filled with dread; they shrank back, their gazes darting away in fear. Su Yanwen noticed that the villagers were in an even worse state than before. Most were suffering from severe edema, and many were afflicted with goiters. As the saying went, in times of famine, any ailment could prove fatal. Once the villagers began to collapse one after another, death was the most optimistic outcome; the truly terrifying prospect was the plague that would inevitably follow the accumulation of so many corpses.

"What is Old Su holding in his hand?"
"I don't know, probably more game!"
"It's over. With Old Su back, something terrible is bound to happen!"
"Come on, let's go watch the show."

The chirping of crickets all around filled Su Yanwen with a sudden sense of unease. It seemed this was no longer just about salt; something must have gone wrong at home. Su Yanwen broke into a run as more people gathered.

"You are the ones who are ghosts! Do you have any humanity left?"
"Yue'e and Cao'er are already so pathetic, and you still come to bully them!"

Aunt Zhang's booming voice carried far. Su Cuilan stood with her hands on her hips, thrusting her belly forward as she shouted, "Shut up! They are nothing but a curse. Look at the villagers—look what they’ve been reduced to because of them. Are they not innocent, too?"

Su Cuilan fanned the flames. Miao Qin, looking nervous, whispered beside her, "Cuilan, the villagers have lost their minds. Look at their eyes—they look ready to eat people!"

"Keep quiet. If that little wench dies, who’s going to do the chores around the house?"

"They deserve it," Su Cuilan said, her face twisted and her eyes flickering with malice. "Who told her to choose a man like that?"

The atmosphere grew even more horrific. The sick villagers burned with a frantic intensity, their faces contorted by pain into grotesque masks. Encouraged by Su Cuilan, their eyes fixed hungrily on Zhao Yue'e and Cao'er, shimmering with cruelty and resolve.

"That's right, it's all their fault."
"Drive out the snow-ghosts."
"Yes... yes, burn them! Burn the blood-ghosts!"

They had all gone mad.

"Mother, they're so scary!" Cao'er buried herself in Zhao Yue'e's arms, trembling. Then, as if remembering something, she pulled back. "Cao'er isn't afraid. Cao'er promised Father that when he wasn't here, she would protect Mother."

She wiped her tears with her small hands, leaving her face smeared like a messy kitten. Trembling, Cao'er stood up and planted herself firmly in front of Zhao Yue'e, spreading her arms, trying to make herself look stronger.

"Burn them!"
"We're all from the same village; why do they get to have food?"
"Burn them!"

The sick were completely unhinged. Finding grass ropes from somewhere, they rushed over, grabbing Zhao Yue'e and Cao'er and tying them up with brutal force. Others brought firewood and piled it high.

"Are... are we really going to burn them?" Miao Qin’s eyes showed fear, yet there was a flicker of excitement as well. Su Cuilan pushed her belly out and spat on the ground.

"Father, help us!"
"Let us go! Let go of my daughter, you bastards!"
"Oh, Heavens!" Aunt Zhang was held back by others and couldn't break through. Watching the scene, she fell to her knees, wailing and shouting, "Old Su! If you've become a ghost, come back and save them! At least they’ll be someone left to pull the weeds from your grave!"

The courtyard was in total chaos. The thick pile of firewood was set ablaze. The roaring flames consumed the air, and the thick snow began to melt in the heat. Zhao Yue'e and Cao'er were bound tight. The sick crowd gripped their hands so hard their veins bulged. Then, as if driven by demons, they began to drag the two bound figures toward the inferno.

"What are you doing?!"

A thunderous roar echoed. Su Yanwen burst onto the scene. His eyes nearly split with rage, his fists clenched so tightly the burlap sack creaked.

"Ah! A ghost!"

The crowd recoiled in terror, their faces pale with shock. After days of extreme suffering, Su Yanwen had returned. His hair was matted against his scalp and cheeks like frost-covered weeds. His face was gaunt and pale, his cheekbones jutting out, his eyes sunken and hollow, and his lips cracked and peeling, crusted with dried blood. His clothes were in tatters, hanging off his skeletal frame; he looked like a vengeful spirit crawled up from hell.

"What... are you doing to my wife and daughter?" Su Yanwen asked.

As his chapped lips moved, fresh red blood trickled out. His bloodshot eyes stared unblinkingly at those present. The sick villagers were madmen, but Su Yanwen in his fury was a demon.

Miao Qin stealthily shrank behind the crowd. Su Cuilan took her hands off her hips, but realizing she had lost her momentum, she quickly put them back, though it looked awkward.

"Father..." Cao'er, who had been biting her lip, saw her father and broke into a wail, as if trying to pour out all her grievances and fear. Zhao Yue'e’s eyes brightened, and she trembled as she cried, "Hurry, Daughter!"

The sick villagers stopped their movements, all turning to look at Su Yanwen.

"Ha ha ha, so this is how you treat my family while I'm away?" Su Yanwen’s tone was calm—the calm before a storm. Behind him were the onlookers; before him were the villagers who had gone mad with sickness and murder. The people in the back didn't step in to stop it, and those in the front didn't feel they were doing anything wrong.

One of them even asked, "We're all from the same village. If you’d treated everyone better, would it have come to this?"
"Exactly! When you caught fish, you should have shared them with everyone."
"You knew everyone was short on salt; why didn't you share it?"

The people in the circle shrieked their accusations, venting the darkest parts of their hearts.

Su Yanwen laughed. The grip on the sack in his hand tightened. He walked forward, step by step, fixing his fiercest gaze on a different person with every stride.

"Share with you? Are you worthy?"
"Why didn't you share what you had in your own homes?"
"You're using the logic that my possession of wealth is a crime, aren't you?"

As he walked, Su Yanwen drew the hunting knife that had been his constant companion. The firelight danced on the blade. Seeing the steel, the madness in the crowd seemed to recede slightly, and they backed away.

"Old Su, what do you want to do? You dare to kill someone?"
"Back off, he’s a lunatic! It’s not worth getting stabbed."
"Don't be afraid! If he kills someone, he’ll face the law. The magistrate won't ignore it."

Su Yanwen felt a coldness in his heart. It turned out that human nature, whether in modern or ancient times, could not withstand the test. He didn't kneel; he simply stood before Zhao Yue'e and Cao'er, like a towering mountain shielding them. He looked down upon those present.

"You are about to burn my wife and daughter to death, and you think I care about spilling a little of your blood?"

He toyed with the knife with practiced ease. "Why?" He didn't understand. In their eyes, were the vulnerable always meant to be tools for their frustration? Was fate always something to be manipulated by others?

"Old Su, enough talk!"
"If they had just handed over the salt, would it have come to this?"
"That's right, we just wanted the salt."

Aunt Zhang was furious. She roared, "They weren't refusing! There isn't any left! You're just jealous—jealous that the people you once pitied are living better than you!"

Aunt Zhang’s voice was loud, but everyone shouted her down.

"Ha ha ha..."

A wild, manic laughter cut through the protests. The corners of Su Yanwen’s mouth curled up; he was smiling, yet his expression was colder than the icicles hanging from the eaves. He reached out, holding up the small burlap sack.

"Salt?!"
"Is it such a rare treasure?"
"This is what you want, right?"
"As it happens, I found quite a bit."

He opened the bag, revealing the unrefined salt inside...