Chen Mu sighed, his butt squeaked, and he asked quietly: "Forty-five years of Jiajing in the Ming Dynasty?"

The soul from four hundred years later frowned, and the sunlight poured into the house from the window ridge that was halfway through the wall. Heavy dust floated in the air, but the nose seemed to have long been accustomed to this dirty and decayed atmosphere. A waist knife was placed on the table with a short wooden legs, slowly pulled out, and the clear blade reflected a beautiful face of a young man. This was the beloved thing of Chen Xiaoqi of two generations. The rust mottled rust on the spine of the knife shows its exquisite workmanship in the past. However, years of persistent grinding have made the blade form a curve without any aesthetics. Perhaps it will break into two pieces after the next full force chop.

An iron armor was hung behind the wooden door that leaked air. The white blue cloth surface was rusty and even holes, which made people feel like they could penetrate it with a little force. Under the armor, there was a fire door gun, which was called a musket in this era. The two-foot wooden pole inserted the musket on it like a gun tip, and there was no sufficient burning of medicine residue in the gun barrel.

Chen Mu, a small flag of the Hundred Households, looked at the house with only walls for half an hour and finally came to his senses when the leaky wooden door was knocked. When he opened the door, he saw a rough man with a beard standing in the deserted yard, with a broken knife hanging on his waist and a hole running cotton jacket with patches, looking cowardly, and he was holding a linen bag and said in a short breath: "Brother Mu, my family has no food, my family has just produced it, I have to pay two dou of rice until I get a salary, is it okay?"

As if he was ashamed, the rough man pursed his lips and said with a little embarrassment: "It's okay for me to be hungry for a few days, my kids and my family can't be hungry... Brother Mu."

In my memory, this rough man was the cousin of the former owner, named Shao Tingda. He was vulgar by nature and was called a reckless person in the garrison. But no matter how vulgar he was, there was no way. Shao Tingda was not only a military householder under his command, but also his uncle's son. When his old father was alive, he was extremely strict in the tax laws. In order to evade taxes, he was sent from Yuegang, Fujian to Qingyuan, Guangdong to be a military householder, and grew up with Chen Mu in Qingyuan.

Chen Mu felt that the military system of the garrison seemed to be declining these days. Judging from what happened around him alone, one leaf could tell that Qiu. Xiaoqi had ten military households under his command. Two of them were deserters a few years ago. One last year was illegal and one was executed. This year, he was frozen to death by the old one at the beginning of spring. There were only five and a half men. The half of them were only thirteen years old and had not yet taken the Japanese sword high.

People died and fled, but there were no new military households to supplement them. If the millions of soldiers in the Ming Dynasty were in accordance with this ratio, there would probably be only 500,000, the elderly, weak, sick and disabled.

"Two dou of rice—"

Reborn in the 16th century more than 400 years ago, Chen Mu's mind was in chaos.

Although there is a strangeness from the soul, memory contradicts Chen Mu's familiar feeling.

Shao Tingda is particularly strong among the elderly and weak garrison soldiers. It is unknown how to save his life in this year. Having a strong relative and brother can always add some safety to people's hearts. Moreover, it is not a big problem. Chen Mu nodded and responded, then turned toward the rice jar. Shao Tingda followed and entered the house.

However, Chen Mu, who had just taken two steps and opened the rice jar, seemed to have been imposed with a fixed schema. He had never thought that this would happen. He turned to his cousin and said, "Shao, Tingda, come and see, how much rice is in this jar?"

Chen Mu's chaotic memory ignored how poor his small flag was. He lifted the rice jar and stretched his head to see the bottom of the jar! He pressed his arm down and put up the rice deep in his fingers. Then he looked at the cloth bag on the bed in the simple furnishings in the house... The original owner of his body paid his salary a few days ago, so he took three dou of rice to change into a cotton jacket and some pickled vegetables, and planned to prepare for winter food and clothing this year. Now he will be paid for the rice in ten days, and the food will be left with some surplus.

"Brother Mu, you only have three dows." Shao Tingda was a little discouraged. He glanced into the rice jar and his face was full of desolation. He was close to Chen Mu in the garrison. The remaining military households in the same flag had conflicts or quarrels, even the half was no exception. He still said, "It's okay, I'll think of a solution again. I'll never starve to death."

As he said that, Shao Tingda walked out. As soon as he walked a few steps into the rotten vegetable field, Chen Mu shouted, "Come back, what can you think of?"

He called the person in and closed the door. Chen Mu sat on the creaking couch, then rubbed his face and said, "First take two buckets from me, and then consider it after eating it."

Paying salary refers to Chen Mu's salary. Shao Tingda's family's official position, and the remaining eight people rely on military farming and have no salary. Now that winter is just over, it is the most difficult time.

"Brother Mu, how can this work?" Shao Tingda said and walked out again, "Three dou of rice is just enough for you, I'll think of another way!"

At first, Chen Mu disagreed with this statement. Even if only one dou of rice is left, it should be enough for him to eat for seven or eight days. After all, it would be enough for three or two meters to eat at a meal. I was about to refute it, but my memory told him that people's appetite in this era was different - without enough meat and vegetables as side dishes, the body could not consume enough oil and fat, and it was all based on the staple food. In addition, the hard work of military soldiers in the garrison, there were many people who could eat rice in one meal.

Chen Mu waved his hand powerlessly and said, "Okay, take the rice away. I can't eat much, so how can I compare to you and the whole family? I've been tight and I can always get through it... Take the rice back and come over later. Brother, I have something to do to ask you."

Shao Tingda's cheeks were red with gratitude and kept thanking Chen Mu. Mi was helping their family. Even if there were only two buckets, at least there was no need to worry about their parents and wives being hungry, and there was no need to worry about the little boy not living. When the new cat grew up, he could continue to farm and work for Chen Xiaoqi to carry a knife and raise a gun.

Looking at Shao Tingda's back as he left, Chen Mu looked at the rice jar that was about to bottom again with a frown. He didn't have much worry about the food being out of stock, but he felt deeply puzzled. The small flag of the garrison was the lowest-level military officer under the Ming Dynasty's garrison army system. In the past, he had heard on the Internet that others said that the garrison soldiers were serfs and peasants, but even if Shao Tingda and the others were serfs, peasants, they had never heard of any serf leader who would starve.

If even he lives like this, what kind of bad life should ordinary people live?

The only bucket of brown rice left in the rice jar, running rice worm, seemed to mock him for not understanding life, shook his head and threw away his messy thoughts. Chen Mu sat on the creaking bed and tried his best to recall the memories of this era in his mind that did not belong to him, so as to suppress the slowly rising of a strong sense of anxiety and loneliness in his heart.

He wants to eat meat, he really wants to.
Chapter completed!