Chapter 35 Old Yan Has No Sense of Direction

After another hour or so, they finally caught a faint glimpse of the Post Station in the darkness.

Yan Lao’er immediately called a halt. The group began searching for a path connecting the Official Road with a side trail, took the turn, and only after walking a good distance did they choose a flat, open spot to rest.

They had been on the road for almost four hours altogether. Midnight was well past, and the whole village was utterly exhausted.

Some who weren’t too particular simply unrolled a tattered mat and collapsed to sleep.

Those with elderly or young family members couldn’t do that. They scattered wheat straw on the ground, spread out grass mats or thin quilts, and the children who had been noisy during the day fell asleep quietly. The elders curled up and shut their eyes—not clear whether they were really asleep.

Village Chief Luo, with his sons and grandsons, held torches and gathered firewood nearby, lighting three bonfires.

All the cart frames were dismantled to give the animals some relief.

The men, fighting off sleepiness, subconsciously gravitated toward where the Yan family was camped.

It was their first night sleeping outdoors, and the open-air environment made everyone uneasy, nostalgic for the comfort of home.

When people lack a sense of security, they instinctively move closer to the strong.

At this moment, Yan Huaiwen was that strong figure in their minds.

A scholar, with the title of xiucai, it seemed that with that aura, he could do anything.

“Everyone’s worn out today. Let’s have one person from each family take turns standing night watch. The rest go rest for now. Tomorrow we’ll start later on the road. Anything else can wait till morning,” Yan Huaiwen said.

Yan Lao’er dutifully went to help arrange the watch shifts.

When he returned from his watch, he found his wife, daughter, and Daya had climbed into the top bunk. They had moved some belongings to brace around all four wheels, securing the whole cart, then squeezed together and slept soundly.

Eldest Nephew couldn’t hold out and had fallen asleep first, while his brother, full of energy, was still scribbling away at the small modified desk.

“Brother, why aren’t you asleep yet?” Yan Lao’er glanced at the nearby bonfire and frowned. “Write tomorrow, or you’ll ruin your eyes.”

“Come take a look,” Yan Huaiwen handed him several sheets of paper.

Yan Lao’er glanced over and wanted to die on the spot.

Such tiny, densely packed characters.

And even if the writing were larger, he wouldn’t recognize most of it anyway. Nope, definitely not looking.

“My eyes aren’t good. Can’t see clearly at night.” He smoothly found himself the perfect excuse.

Oh!

Yan Huaiwen suddenly understood. No wonder his second brother never burned the midnight oil.

“I’ve copied down each household’s details, including how many people, their ages, males divided into able-bodied and underage, children into young and toddler, elderly into mobile and immobile…

Starting tomorrow, we can’t proceed the same way as today. Apart from the immobile elderly, toddlers, and the sick or weak, everyone else will take turns walking and riding.

Able-bodied men will walk the longest, underage boys and women next, then the elderly.

We’ll cover three hours of travel daily, split between morning and afternoon, with a two-hour rest during the hottest part of the day.

Three meals a day.

And each night, one person per family for night watch.”

“Big Brother, what talent you have!” Yan Lao’er praised first, then carefully chewed over what his brother said.

Rotating between walking and riding, no problem! Just what his daughter had suggested!

Walking’s good, builds health. Always sitting in the cart isn’t good for anyone.

As for three meals and night watch, he had no objections at all.

But three hours a day… only six hours of walking, split morning and afternoon…

Didn’t seem like much.

“Brother, isn’t three hours a day a bit short? At this pace, when will we reach Guanzhou?”

With families dragging along kids and elders, they were indeed slow.

But what else could they do? The women and children had poor stamina; keeping up without anyone falling behind was already an achievement.

“For now, this will do. Once the weather cools down and everyone adjusts, we’ll change it,” Yan Huaiwen said.

“Brother, let me see that distance map.” Yan Lao’er was glad he remembered the term.

“You can’t see, remember?”

“I’ll look at it tomorrow morning. Just let me keep it for now.

Brother, I’ve no objection to three meals a day, but the villagers don’t have much grain left. Will this work?”

“I’ve thought about that too. But if they don’t eat, I’m afraid their bodies won’t hold up. The only way is more meals but smaller portions. Once we’re out of Qishan Prefecture, things should improve.”

“Brother, here’s what I’m thinking—hear me out.”

“Go ahead.”

“If we stick only to the Official Road, villages are sparse, and we’ll be far from forests and streams. It’ll be hard for everyone to find water and food.

Now that we’ve pinpointed where the nearby Post Station is, why not just head straight in the general direction according to the distance map? Even if we stray a bit, we can always ask for directions. As long as we don’t go deep into mountains or dense forests, we’ll find the way.”

Yan Huaiwen pressed his lips together. “Tian You… do you get disoriented easily?”

“Nope! I’ve got great sense of direction.” Yan Lao’er waved the distance map. “Trust me, Brother. Tomorrow at daybreak, I’ll work out a quick and direct route for you, so we won’t keep circling around the Post Station all secretive and afraid of being spotted.”

“But just so we’re clear, my eyes only work during the day. Don’t come looking for me at night—I’m blind then.” Yan Lao’er made sure to lay it out up front.

Anything with words, he couldn’t handle alone. During the day, at least his wife and daughter could help him muddle through.

Yan Huaiwen relaxed.

So both brothers weren’t flawless after all.

“Tian You… as your elder brother… I’m terrible with directions. Familiar places are fine, but in unfamiliar terrain… I get lost.”

Yan Lao’er: …

So Brother, all this time you’ve been taking us on the Official Road and detouring around the Post Station, making things this complicated, because… you’re directionally challenged?!

Seeing Old Yan bow his head, a little embarrassed, Yan Lao’er instantly caught on—this was something big brother found hard to admit.

“See, we complement each other perfectly. Don’t worry, Brother, leave the navigation to me. Guaranteed smooth sailing.”

“Sigh! I’ve been an unworthy big brother… didn’t even know how bad your night blindness was. Wait, you even drove the cart tonight?” Yan Huaiwen was puzzled.

Yan Lao’er didn’t blush a bit, continuing his story, “My night blindness is just an expression, not total blindness. Besides, didn’t I have you guiding the way? Wherever you pointed, I drove.

Doesn’t affect much at all. Just can’t see small print at night, that’s all.”

…

Early next morning, Yan Yu woke amid a chorus of voices.

The sky was bright, and she’d slept soundly all night.

Glancing around, she saw that her mother and Daya sister were already up. She alone was still sprawled out in all directions.

She rolled over, not rushing to get down, but instead looking down from her high perch.

Her father was teaching her brother how to drive the cart, repeating the same few lines over and over. She listened for a while and couldn’t help laughing.

Sanbao was fully voice-controlled—what techniques were even needed? A good set of vocal cords would do.

But to keep their secret, her father was racking his brains. Poor guy, really working hard.

The village women—big sisters, aunts, daughters-in-law, girls—were busy preparing breakfast.

They’d found some big rocks and quickly built a simple stove, cooking with just one pot. One person had a bowl of flour paste, then another, each taking turns frying pancakes.

Yan Yu propped her chin on her hands, watching intently.

She mentally calculated how many pancakes a bowl of paste could make.

If they only used one pot, then wouldn’t their extra pots go unused?

Steamed buns took more water but yielded more volume. Compared to flour paste, which was more cost-effective?

So many people standing around one pot—the labor was a huge waste.

Even if it was just during this cooking time, gathering some firewood or pulling up some grass would be better than standing idle.

(End of Chapter)