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Autumn, the twenty-fourth year of Wanli.

Chongming Island is like a dead leaf forgotten by the river, floating in the mist at the mouth of the Yangtze River.The northwest wind carried a salty smell for days, blowing across the bare beaches and rustling the sparse reed stalks along the coast. The white frost hanging on the tips of the stalks had not had time to melt, but was wetted by the passing tidal mist. It condensed on the withered yellow leaves, glowing with a cold light.The west coast of the island is the main settlement area. Low adobe houses are squeezed between the sand dunes and the salt-alkali land. The thatch on the roofs has been eroded black by the constant sea breeze. The eaves of many houses have collapsed and are only supported by a few crooked wooden pillars, as if they will be swept away by the next storm at any time.

Lin Chi stepped on the tidal flat with his bare feet. The cold mud reached his ankles, carrying the unique bitterness of sea water.He has just turned sixteen this year, but his figure is thinner than that of his peers. His short brown hair has been washed white and has several patches. His trousers are rolled up to his knees, revealing his calves that have been blown red by the sea breeze.He held a simple fishing net in his hand. The ropes of the net were dismantled and re-twisted with old ship cables. The mesh size was different, and there were a few dry aquatic plants hanging on the edge.Behind him were three and a half-year-old children. The eldest, named Gouzi, was the son of a military household in a neighboring village. The youngest, Maodou, was only twelve years old. He was as thin as a bean sprout, but he was holding on to a sharp wooden fork. His eyes showed a stubbornness that was inconsistent with his age.

"Brother Achi, the tide went out early today, so we should be able to catch some clams, right?" Maodou sniffed his nose, which was red from the cold, and spoke with a thick nasal voice.His father fell behind during the patrol last year and was fined three kilograms of food by Qianhu. The family has long been unable to open the pot. The fish, shrimps, shells and crabs in the tidal flats are the few ways they can survive.

Lin Chi did not look back, but stared at the rippling puddle in front of him: "Go further south, the mud there is soft and there are many clams." His voice was clear and clear like a young man, but also showed a calmness beyond his age.As the son of a member of the Chongming Guard Qianhu Station, he didn't have to come to this tidal flat to make a living, but the situation in the guard station was no longer what his ancestors said it was.

The tidal flats under my feet were muddy and difficult to walk on, and every step required a lot of effort. The mud crawled up between my toes, making it cold and sticky.Lin Chi remembered that when he was a child, his father Lin Xu would take him to the school grounds of the guard station. Although the school grounds at that time were not regular, you could still see soldiers practicing. Although the swords, guns, swords and halberds were rusty, they were still polished to a bright shine.But now, the school grounds have long been submerged by weeds, most of the roof of the martial arts hall has collapsed, and the corners are covered with vines. Only a few broken flagpoles are left standing alone in the wind, and the flags on them have long been missing.

"Brother Achi, look!" Gouzi suddenly barked and pointed to a puddle not far away.Lin Chi looked in the direction he pointed and saw a few clams digging into the mud along the water marks, their shells glowing with a faint cyan color in the dim skylight.He immediately signaled everyone to be silent, slowly lowered the fishing net, held his breath, and pressed it down suddenly.

The fishing net splashed a piece of muddy water, and several children immediately gathered around and lifted the fishing net up with all their hands.Sure enough, there were more than a dozen clams in the net pocket, and two palm-sized jumping fish were jumping around in the net in vain.Maodou smiled so hard that he showed his teeth: "Great! With these, my mother can cook a pot of soup!"

Lin Chi looked at the harvest in the net with a faint smile on his face.These things are not worth a lot of money, but they can add a bit of meat to the home.His father, Lin Xu, was a 100-household guard in Chongming's Qianhu Station. He was in charge of more than 110 military households, but the title of this 100-household was now more like a hot potato.The military households in the guard station have been soldiers for generations, and they have military fields distributed by the imperial court in name. However, Chongming Island is originally formed by accumulation of sandbanks. The land is barren and severely salinized, and there are very few fields that can grow food.Not to mention that taxes have become increasingly heavier in recent years. Just the "grain harvesting", "salt tax" and "weapons repair money" required to pay for the autumn harvest have made everyone breathless.

He remembered that when he came home last night, he saw his father sitting under a dim oil lamp, his brows knitted into a knot, holding a piece of yellowed paper in his hand, filled with dense numbers.The mother sat aside, sewing her father's old military uniform in her hands, sewing very slowly, and looking up at her husband from time to time, her eyes full of worry.The rice vat at home has reached the bottom, and there is a layer of white frost on the edge of the vat. Only half a bag of sweet potatoes is placed in the corner, which is the family's ration for the next few days.

"Dad, do you have any clues about Mr. Qianhu's tax payment?" Lin Chi couldn't help but ask at that time.

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