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墨書 Inktalez
What was going on? Where could he have gone?
Wang Fugui had gathered dozens of villagers and sent them in several directions to carefully search along the hillside, trying to confirm whether Zhu Jincheng was still on the mountain. The villagers searched for an entire morning, and by noon, they finally began to arrive at the summit.
Seeing them come back, Wang Fugui rushed forward and asked each of them, "Did you find Zhu Jincheng?"
However, the villagers could only shake their heads helplessly. They had searched the entire Dragon Ridge Mountain, but they hadn't even seen a trace of Zhu Jincheng.
What was happening? Could it be that he had already left the mountain?
Wang Fugui pondered to himself: If Zhu Jincheng had indeed left the mountain, was he taken by someone or did he leave on his own?
At first, Wang Fugui thought it was more likely that he had been taken, considering that Zhu Jincheng had been exposed to the toxic gas and was already weak; it would be quite difficult for him to descend the mountain on his own. However, after thinking it over, Wang Fugui dismissed that possibility.
Zhu Jincheng was usually honest and straightforward, getting along well with others in the village; he had no enemies at all. If it wasn't a vendetta, could it have been for money?
But Wang Fugui quickly rejected that idea as well. Early in the morning, when he went to Zhu Jincheng's tent, he saw that the two bags of grain were still untouched on the ground. If someone had wanted to steal his food, they would have taken those bags long ago.
Could it be that he left on his own after all? Although this explanation felt a bit forced, it seemed more reasonable.
Wang Fugui calculated in his mind. He had originally planned to observe Zhu Jincheng's symptoms closely to determine whether he should send all the villagers back to fetch food from the village. But now, Zhu Jincheng had completely vanished.
From his observations yesterday and what he saw on the ground of the tent this morning—those traces of vomit—Wang Fugui realized that the toxic gas had a severe impact on the human body. Regardless of why Zhu Jincheng might have run down the mountain, the end result was clear: he hadn’t returned and was likely dead in that area filled with toxic gas.
This indicated just how deadly the gas was down below. Given this situation, it would be unwise to act rashly; if they took everyone from the village down to fetch food, a large portion of them might succumb to the poison.
After making up his mind, Wang Fugui entered Zhu Jincheng's tent, took some of the grain from the two bags, and secretly brought it back to his own tent.
Then he returned, carrying the two bags of grain to the clearing, calling everyone to gather around. He raised his voice and said, "Dear villagers, I have some unfortunate news. Last night, someone from our village, Zhu Jincheng, ran down the mountain and has now passed away."
Upon hearing the news of Zhu Jincheng's death, the villagers showed little emotion on their faces. With their own food supplies nearly depleted and uncertain about how many days they could survive, they had no time to worry about an ordinary neighbor with whom they had little connection.
Wang Fugui lifted the two bags in his hands high and continued, "Zhu Jincheng brought back two bags of grain yesterday, and now that he can no longer use them, I will distribute this grain to everyone."
He believed that helping everyone in this way would surely make Xiao Zhu feel happy as well.
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