unedited

The ground was damp in the early morning, and the sound of carts and horses clattered outside the camp. The crowd seemed to be moving things outside, showing a scene of labor.

“Wake up. Let’s eat and move on. Let’s take advantage of the cooler weather and walk a little further,” Someone said.

Meng Huan climbed up and rubbed his eyes. After dressing neatly, he went out of the camp to drink porridge, still sleepy as he held the rice bowl. Zhu Dong reminded him, “Drink more. Otherwise, if you don’t have the energy to walk all morning, you’ll be in trouble when you fall out of line.”

Meng Huan could only nod hard and drink two bowls.

Placing the bowl back into the basin and carrying his bag to the camp entrance, Meng Huan found that the soldiers had yet to draw up their camp, and his gaze flickered slightly. “The prince and his men are not leaving?”

“Have you never heard of ‘food and provisions moving first before the troops’? We follow the supply wagon, and the supply wagon goes slowly.” Zhu Dong said, “The prince leads the army, riding horses, and the travel speed is certainly faster than us; they can catch up.”

“……”

Did that mean he had to go his own way from Lin Bozhou?

Meng Huan could not resist and looked back at the middle army’s tent again.

This reluctant-to-leave expression was seen by Zhu Dong, who frowned fiercely. “Brother, who are you looking at?”

Meng Huan: “Huh?”

“You’re not looking at the prince, are you?”

“……”

“He has a princess. Some of your thoughts are dangerous.”

Meng Huan chose not to talk to him, picked up his painting kit, and turned his head to follow the prince’s entourage.

Although Zhu Dong was full of nonsense, he was right about certain things.

Horses were a scarce war resource in ancient times, and not everyone had them, so most people had to rely on their feet when traveling. Meng Huan wore a pair of cloth shoes and walked on the rugged, uneven road. Within a few hours, the soles of his shoes were worn through, and the sole of his feet ached. The pain was so intense that it crawled along the soles of his feet to his heart with every step.

He was not even considered miserable. Some people couldn’t afford to wear out their cloth shoes and wore straw sandals and hemp shoes to walk. Now and then, they would scratch a few holes and bleed out.

Meng Huan’s feet hurt a lot, standing still, and looked back.

–A long line stretched across the entire hillside, and it was the people who were about to go outside the Shanhai Pass to defend their country.

It was painful and tiring. Meng Huan could not say anything for a while, skimming his lips and walking forward with the pain.

The march was a long process, and besides eating midway, the boring walk took a whole day.

Halfway through the day, someone came to Meng Huan. “Young master, would you like to sit on the carriage carrying the luggage?”

The spot was narrow, leaving one or two gaps that could accommodate people. Meng Huan thought about it and shook his head. “I can still walk.”

If he compromised on the first day of the march, wouldn’t he become a burden?

Meng Huan did not want to be defeated just after arriving.

At noon, after stopping at a field to make a meal in a buried pot, Meng Huan found a haystack, sat down, half-squinting his eyes to survey everything around him, and took out his easel.

Zhu Dong came up. “What are you drawing?”

Meng Huan: “I’m drawing what I see on the road.”

“That’s nice.” Zhu Dong said, “Unlike me, who can only make poems.”

Similar to taking pictures and posting them to their Moments during a trip, they wrote poems and drew pictures to preserve the experiences and memories of the journey. Meng Huan squinted and smiled. After transmigrating from modern civilized society into ancient society, he was finally familiar with and used to everything here.

Zhu Dong looked from the side. “Awesome.”

“It’s only so-so.”

As Meng Huan hurriedly outlined the shape of the carriage with a few strokes, Zhu Dong was even more surprised. “You’re really good at drawing.”

It was hard to explain where it was good, but it felt more three-dimensional, more realistic, as if you could touch it.

Meng Huan said, “This is called the play of light and shadow. We are not too fussy about this in painting nowadays.”

Zhu Dong: “Did you invent this?”

“No.” Meng Huan held his easel. “I’m just a learner.”

As Meng Huan sketched the landscape, Zhu Dong looked increasingly upset. “You seem to have a use in the military.”

He looked dejected. “But everyone has studied and can read and write. I can’t do anything. I’m sad.”

“……”

Meng Huan blinked and began to comfort this career seeker.

The journey was quite enjoyable with all the joking around. The easel on Meng Huan’s shoulder was not heavy, but the most strenuous was walking. In ancient times, the road surface was not even, and it was all muddy, going up and down. The sole of his feet pressing on the ground gradually hurt like a toe was smashed hard.

The weather was also hot.

He walked on the road with a head full of sweat, dizzy from the sun. Not much further, he saw someone fall to the ground on his knees from heatstroke, and calls rang out around him. “Uncle Li, Uncle Li? Is it heatstroke?!”

The crowd gathered and seemed to want to wake him up and feed him water. The military doctor accompanying them also went up, took out the medicinal powder, and put it in his mouth.

The sky was filled with white light. Meng Huan’s lips were pale white, and sweat rolled down his forehead into drops. He saw that the group seemed to want to save this man, but they rushed off again after realizing they were falling behind; only the man’s close friends were still with him.

Zhu Dong said, “Let’s see if he can wake up. If he can’t wake up, he will probably die.”

Meng Huan pursed his lips, not speaking.

The feeling of coming to the military camp for the past two days was constantly renewed and reshaped.

His face was pale, his forehead was red from the sun and moistened black hair stuck to his forehead. His face was covered with sweaty fluid, and his lips were glowing moist red and slightly open.

Meng Huan was drenched in sweat and took a handkerchief to wipe his forehead.

“Never mind.” Zhu Dong said, “We should hurry too.”

Meng Huan stood still, but his feet were like rooted, and he couldn’t walk.

He always felt that he was a pretty ordinary person and unable to write words of compassion for the living, but now looking at everyone, his heart was really bitter.

The summer heat was not bitter, foot pain was not bitter, but human life was as bitter as grass.