nyslfriends Chapter 4 The Sickle
Chapter 4 The Sickle
Everyone looked at Old Chen.
Yan Bao scoffed, merely sneering, "Old Chen, I think you're just asking for trouble, like an old man who's about to hang himself!"
"This old man's tired of living! If you're so capable, just stab me and you'll be done with it!" Old Chen was furious. "You only took off your tattered hemp clothes from harvesting wheat a few years ago, and you've only been wearing your rich robes for a few years before you come here to wreak havoc on the villagers? You took so much land from the flood two years ago, and you still aren't satisfied? Today you seized the Meng family's land, are you going to seize my land tomorrow?"
Upon hearing this, some villagers inside and outside the courtyard were still bewildered, while others who had seen a bit of the world were already on high alert.
Yan Bao remained completely unperturbed. He stood up, drew his long sword, and said sternly, "It's all in black and white, how can it be considered robbery? If the Meng brothers are not satisfied, we'll go to the county government and let our parents decide!"
The two constables quickly drew their long swords and stood protectively behind Yan Bao.
The sight of three gleaming broadswords immediately stunned the villagers.
Yan Bao didn't sheath his sword. He walked up to Meng Chen and said, "I'll say it again: I'm taking the land deeds and grain with me. If you're not satisfied, go ahead and sue me at the county office!"
After speaking, Yan Bao didn't linger and got up to leave.
None of the villagers dared to stop them, and they all made way for them.
There were no clouds in the sky, and not even a breath of wind.
The villains left, but the villagers didn't disperse; they remained gathered in the Meng family's courtyard.
Niujia Village is a small village with only about a hundred households. It has no clan power and has never produced any capable people. They can only swallow their anger.
"We're all from the same village, isn't the Yan family driving people to their deaths by doing this?" someone said.
"What kind of dead end is this? It's just becoming a tenant farmer for his family," the village head said.
Everyone fell silent again, because being a tenant farmer in the Yan family wasn't easy.
Other landlords charged 40% of the rent, but the Yan family charged 60%. Moreover, being a tenant farmer meant living under someone else's roof, and being driven around every few days; the tenants were treated like slaves.
"Why are the landlords here so mean? I heard that the landlords in the west treat their tenants very well. They reduce rents when there's a disaster, give out grain, and even send meat to the old tenants during festivals!" Qingyu said angrily.
Old Chen laughed upon hearing this and said, "That's because things aren't peaceful over there. There are many bandits, and the masters rely on the tenant farmers to help them fend off the bandits. How could they not treat the tenant farmers well? We haven't had any major bandit attacks over here for a long time, and the Yan family has become rich too quickly. They're thinking of making enough land for three or four generations in one generation."
The village head nodded upon hearing this and said, "After all, our uncle has been outside and seen the world."
Qingyu asked curiously, "Then why did the Yan family target my brother's family? My brother's family only has six mu of land in total."
"What else could it be? It must be because of the past offenses committed against the Yan family! Now that they have something on us, they're just taking it away!" a man said.
"That's right! He didn't rob the Zhang family, he didn't rob the Li family, but he specifically robbed your Meng family. There must have been a grudge between them before. I reckon that IOU might actually be real. Meng's kid has been a bit slow since he was a child, so he might have written it himself!" someone else chimed in.
Upon hearing this, many villagers nodded in agreement, clearly finding it reasonable.
"You know nothing!" someone shouted angrily. "Do you think everyone here is from the Ai family, just randomly giving away land? Besides, the Meng family father and son are honest men, how could they offend the Yan family? And who among you dares to offend the Yan family? Let me tell you, the Yan family's land by the Old Dragon Pool is right next to the Meng family's land. Now that they've acquired the Meng family's land, their land is all connected! Yan Bao came to me last year, saying he wanted the Meng family's land and asked me to think of a way, but I didn't agree!"
Qingyu stared in disbelief. She grabbed Old Chen's sleeve and said, "The Yan family specifically hired yamen runners to seize these six acres of poor land, just so that their land could be consolidated into one large plot?"
"It's just a pretext; it's only a matter of time," Old Chen said.
At this moment, Meng Chen heard these words but didn't care much, nor did he care about the Yan family's motives for seizing his land.
Ultimately, the reason is simply that the Yan family is powerful and is using this as an excuse to annex other properties. Our own family is weak and has no power to resist.
Therefore, even if it hadn't happened today, it would have happened tomorrow or the day after. Just as Old Chen said, it was only a matter of time.
And it's not just them; in a decade or so, most of Niujia Village's land will likely belong to the Yan family. If there are a few more major floods or droughts, the takeover will probably happen even faster.
By this time, the sun was setting, and no one had come up with a plan, so their interest in watching the spectacle had waned considerably.
Zheng Ping is usually a capable man, but he's completely helpless against the Yan family. However, before leaving, he still left a message: "Whether your father is here or not, life goes on. Tomorrow I'll take you to the Yan family. You'll have to bend down and work as their tenant farmer for a few years. You still have to make a living, right? We'll deal with the rest later."
The village head patted Meng Chen on the shoulder and left with his grandson.
Seeing that the village head had no choice but to leave, the crowd dispersed as well.
It was getting late, and there was still no cloud or wind.
Meng Chen closed the dilapidated courtyard gate and went inside.
The main room was in a mess, ransacked by the Yan family, and the wooden box containing the land deeds was carelessly thrown on the ground.
Meng Chen straightened the table and chairs, tidied the bed, and then went to the east wing.
The east wing was also an adobe house, serving as a kitchen and storage room. Only two sacks of the newly harvested wheat remained, and both had large holes cut into them, with the wheat scattered all over the ground.
These wheat ears were harvested by Meng Chen through long hours, one ear at a time, one grain at a time.
The dark yellow wheat was scattered all over the ground, the same color as the soil.
As a farmer's son, Meng Chen couldn't bear to see grain wasted, so he took a winnowing basket and harvested the wheat. He then found a needle and thread and sewed up the grain bags.
As a farmer's son, Meng Chen's thoughts and ideas were just like those of ordinary farmers—no matter how wronged he was, as long as he still had an acre of land to cultivate and a mouthful of food to eat, he would try his best to survive, even if he was not full.
But now even their very means of survival have been taken away, leaving them completely cornered.
If one wanted to survive, one had to bend over to become a tenant farmer and earn a bowl of thin porridge.
For nearly a month during the wheat harvest, Meng Chen spent most of his time bent over. Yesterday's bending over was for a bountiful harvest, but will there be another bountiful harvest after bending over again tomorrow?
Cicadas chirped loudly outside, while the glow of the setting sun shone through the old window and into the room.
Having not cooked for a long time, the kitchen knife had developed faint rust marks. This knife was already in poor condition; it was fine for cutting vegetables and noodles, but it was inadequate for meat and bones.
Meng Chen looked around and saw a sickle next to the damaged grain sack.
This sickle, used daily to harvest wheat and sharpened daily, absorbs the scorching sunlight and the sweat of farmers during the day. Now it shines brightly, as if it wants to see the deep red glow of blood and taste the blood of a living person.
Why should you be the only one to drive me to this dead end? You have a father and brothers, hangers-on, a tall horse, and a broadsword, while all I have is this poor skeleton.
The awns and stubble of wheat are sharp, but they are not as tough as the bones of the poor; the sun may be scorching, but it cannot rot these bones of the poor.
Poor bones are lowly, but if they are extracted from flesh and blood, they can still serve as swords.
A farmer's son who loses his land becomes a bandit. If you won't let me live, then nobody should live.
Meng Chen picked up the sickle, and as soon as he gripped the handle, he felt full of energy, as if he could see a granary overflowing with the sight of a bountiful harvest.