Maye was truly done for this time.
Utterly defeated.
He was numb—his buttocks injured, one leg numb. Just moments ago, a massive fire in the reed marsh had nearly scorched his face, the skin peeling from the heat, leaving his face so numb he could barely feel it.
But his life was stubbornly resilient. The fire in the reed marsh burned away his messy hair but didn’t take his life. Due to his injured buttocks, he limped along, escaping the reed marsh more slowly and falling behind. This, however, allowed him to avoid the Zhejiang army’s ambush at the bridgehead and the chaotic stampede of the Japanese pirates.
With the help of five loyal Japanese pirates, he successfully crossed a river in the freezing winter and, relying on his decades of battlefield experience, evaded the Zhejiang army’s cavalry patrols. Stumbling along, he left Jiashan County and arrived at an unnamed, desolate village in South Zhili.
In these times of natural and man-made disasters—floods, droughts, and Japanese pirates slaughtering villages—abandoned villages were not uncommon.
Having narrowly escaped with his life, Maye sat down heavily on the ground, only to yelp and spring back up.
He’d forgotten about his injured buttocks. Sitting down brought such excruciating, bone-deep pain that he’d never forget it, instinctively jumping up.
“Damn you, Zhu Heping! I won’t rest until I tear your flesh with my teeth to quench this burning hatred!”
Clutching his buttocks, his scorched face rigid, Maye roared like a demon emerging from the flames.
“Boss, keep it down, or you’ll attract the Zhejiang cavalry,” one of his loyal pirates cautiously advised.
They were genuinely afraid of Maye cursing Zhu Heping. Every time Maye cursed him, their group of pirates suffered terrible luck.
From over five thousand men at the start, only six remained. They couldn’t afford any more misfortune.
One more stroke of bad luck, and none of the six might survive.
“This is South Zhili. Zhu Heping is the Zhejiang governor. If he crosses the border, he’ll be in serious trouble!” Maye, well-versed in the Ming dynasty’s military system, said confidently.
“Boss, rules are rigid, but people are flexible. We can’t take chances. What if some Zhejiang soldiers don’t distinguish between Zhejiang and South Zhili and come here? With only six of us, it’s better to stay quiet,” a loyal pirate urged.
Maye frowned, but catching the expressions of his few remaining loyal men and considering his situation—still dependent on them—he suppressed his temper and snorted. “Look at how scared you are. Zhu Heping isn’t some three-headed, six-armed monster. Fine, I’ll settle the score with him another day!”
Seeing Maye stop cursing Zhu Heping, the loyal pirates breathed a sigh of relief.
“Leave two men on lookout. The rest, search the village for anything edible to fill our stomachs,” Maye ordered.
Two pirates stayed to keep watch, while three spread out to search the village for food.
Unfortunately, it was a deserted village, with only dilapidated, drafty houses and yards overgrown with weeds. The three pirates searched from one end to the other but found not a single grain. They only gathered some wood ear mushrooms from a rotting wooden door and a pile of unidentified wild greens from an abandoned yard.
Thankfully, being in the south, even in the depths of winter, it wasn’t as barren as the north, and wild greens could still be found.
Though the village was abandoned, there was an old well with a cover. The pirates found a broken clay pot, wove a rope from vines, and used it to draw water from the well. The water looked clear, so they felt reassured.
They set up a simple stove with three bricks, using the broken pot to cook a soup of wild greens and wood ear mushrooms.
To avoid their cooking smoke giving away their position, Maye and his men cooked inside a relatively intact house, stuffing the windows with straw.
The room filled with smoke, choking the pirate cooking until he coughed repeatedly. Naturally, Maye didn’t stay inside to be smothered; he had already retreated to the yard.
Finally, the pot of wild greens and wood ear soup was ready.
“You’ve protected me and carried me all this way. You’ve worked hard. Drink first, I’ll drink last,” Maye said warmly to his loyal pirates.
In his mind, though: *Who knows if these wild greens are edible? What if they make us sick? Let them eat first, and once I’m sure it’s safe, I’ll eat.*
“Boss, you’re injured and need to recover. You should eat first,” his loyal men said, touched by his gesture, urging him to go first.
“No more arguing. You’re my lifesavers, and I’ll need your help to return to our Tuolin stronghold. Eat quickly so you’ll have the strength to carry me back,” Maye insisted.
“Thank you, Boss. We’ll eat first, then,” the five loyal pirates said gratefully, using broken pottery as bowls. Each took a portion and, ignoring the scalding heat, slurped it down eagerly, their stomachs growling with hunger.
Maye watched them closely, from their first sip to finishing it all, which took about the time to brew a cup of tea.
Seeing they were fine after drinking, Maye confirmed the wood ear mushrooms and greens were safe. He served himself a portion and slurped it down, still hot. *Not bad,* he thought.
“Hey, you even found some salt? This soup has a salty taste. Not bad,” Maye said, wiping his mouth after finishing.
“What? No salt. We didn’t bring any, and we didn’t add any to the soup,” the pirates said, scratching their heads in confusion.
“No salt? Then why’s the soup salty?” Maye froze, then picked up the broken pot of water, scooped some with his hand, and tasted it. “This water’s salty.”
“I’ve heard some places have salty well water. Now I’ve seen it—this village’s well is a saltwater well,” one pirate said.
“Right, a saltwater well makes sense,” Maye nodded, not thinking much more of it. He served himself another portion of the wild greens and wood ear soup and dug in.
The other pirates followed suit, eagerly serving themselves several more portions, gulping it all down.
What Maye and his men didn’t know was that the primary reason this village had been abandoned was a problem with the groundwater. No matter where they dug a well, the water that came up had a salty taste. At first, the villagers didn’t mind, even thinking it was a blessing—they could save on salt, and some even tried to profit by boiling the water for salt. But over time, the water’s saltiness grew stronger, and more and more villagers fell ill with strange diseases, affecting men, women, young, and old, all with strikingly similar symptoms.
The villagers eventually realised the well water was the cause—the water beneath the village was contaminated.
Water is the source of life, essential for both people and livestock. With the village’s water undrinkable, they had to fetch water from other villages, but that wasn’t sustainable. The entire village decided they could no longer live there, so they moved and built a new village elsewhere, leaving this one to fall into ruin.
