Stockpiling for an Exiled General Through My Store's Back Door

Chapter 131: Chapter 131: The More You Scratch, the Itchier It Gets

”We’ve been walking all day! How have we not seen a single river or even a patch of woods?!”

”Forget about the woods, I haven’t even seen a single blade of grass!”

”Good heavens! Back in Capital City, there were rumors of a drought. Did we run right into it? There isn’t a soul in sight around here!”

”Will it still be like this up ahead? If so, we’d better turn back right now.”

”Probably not. We’ve been walking for an entire day already. Tomorrow will definitely be better.”

The government officers were already growing agitated. Hearing the prisoners complain incessantly only fueled their annoyance. Because of this, Luo roared at the crowd. ”Knock it off! If you still have the energy to flap your gums after a full day on the road, then you aren’t tired! Does this mean you can march another ten miles?! If so, get up right now!”

The moment those words left his mouth, a dead silence fell over the prisoners.

They were terrified that Luo might actually give the order and crack his whip to force them back on the road. After walking continuously for a whole day, the blisters on the soles of their feet had burst, leaving them in agonizing pain. Furthermore, they hadn’t found any water sources today, and the rations Luo handed out had been reduced from a full bowl to just half.

After a brutal day of trekking with only half a bowl of water to sustain them, their throats were parched and scratchy. Everyone’s lips were cracked and shriveled.

”If you don’t want to march, then sit down,” Luo said coldly, sweeping his piercing gaze over the crowd. He then turned his back on them, offering no further attention.

The prisoners sat back down resentfully. Not daring to utter another word, they scrambled to find a clean spot to sleep. Once they were asleep, they reasoned, they wouldn’t feel the thirst anymore.

The next morning, they woke up early for another grueling day on the road.

They powered through until noon before the government officers finally distributed another half bowl of water. As far as the eye could see, there still wasn’t a single tuft of grass—only barren wasteland. The sun beat down relentlessly, scorching everyone’s faces bright red.

Between the dry air and the long stretch without a bath, many began scratching their heads, then their backs, until they were itching all over. The scratching was contagious, spreading rapidly through the crowd.

Ling Qianjun and his family deliberately maintained their distance from the rest of the prisoners, trailing at the very back of the group.

Watching the people ahead constantly clawing at their skin, Ling Qianfan inexplicably felt an itch on his own scalp. ”Qianjun, do you think they’ve all caught lice?”

Ling Yunge couldn’t resist scratching her own arm. ”Just watching them makes me itch.”

Last night, the family had covertly shielded one another from view so they could drink some extra water, leaving them in decent shape this morning. However, given the circumstances of the camp, they hadn’t had the opportunity to wash up.

Xu Panqing kept moving forward, softly scolding the two youngsters. ”Stop scratching. The more you claw at it, the itchier it will get. And Yunge, you’ve already scratched red marks into your arm. Be careful not to break the skin.”

Hearing Xu Panqing’s warning, Ling Yunge looked down and gasped. ”Mother, if you hadn’t pointed it out, I wouldn’t have even noticed. I’ll stop scratching right now.”

Seeing this, Ling Qianfan silently lowered his hands as well, terrified of accidentally clawing his own scalp open.

Ling Qianjun lowered his voice. ”We will be crossing barren wasteland for the next six days, and there won’t be a drop of rain. We can’t afford to stand out. The difference between someone who has bathed and someone who hasn’t will be glaringly obvious. We’re just going to have to endure it for the next few days. We also need to cut back on how much water we drink in front of the others.”

”What? Six more days? Qianjun, you have to be messing with me, right? Won’t I die of thirst over the next six days?” Ling Qianfan stared at his brother in utter horror. He tried his best to keep his voice down, but his tone betrayed his uncontrollable shock.

Perhaps he was too agitated to watch where he was going. His foot caught on a protruding rock, and he pitched forward, stumbling wildly.