'It's him?'
Qin Fang froze for a moment.
He saw a few men talking in low voices beside the line. They were all dressed as refugees, but after a closer look, Qin Fang sensed something was off.
These men were well-built. Though they all appeared somewhat 'thin,' it was the leanness of a fit person, completely different from the emaciation of a true, starving refugee.
Their faces were also covered in a thick layer of dirt, making them look travel-worn from days of sleeping rough. But a careful inspection revealed it was a disguise—they had deliberately smeared yellow earth on their faces, which looked nothing like the naturally accumulated grime of the other refugees.
The reason Qin Fang found this particular man so familiar was...
He was the first person to shout, "Revolt!"
Apparently, the news that True Martial County was distributing food had greatly shocked the man, so his first shout was a bit too loud.
But he immediately lowered his voice, and Qin Fang could no longer hear him clearly.
He only saw the man whisper something to the people around him, glance at the city gate with a hint of unwillingness, and then slip back into the crowd of refugees with his companions, disappearing from sight.
Qin Fang's brow furrowed tightly...
A glint flashed in his eyes.
'Looks like someone's planning to use the refugees entering the city to stir up trouble?'
'Forcing the refugees to revolt?'
His expression turned ugly.
He was a refugee right now.
And just moments ago, when he heard True Martial wasn't giving out food, he too had felt the stirrings of rebellion.
But in any dynasty, rebellion was clearly the greatest of crimes.
Forcing refugees to revolt...
'Isn't that the same as forcing me, Qin Fang, to revolt?'
But after a moment's hesitation, Qin Fang let out a breath and chose not to follow them...
He was starving to death.
'Better to fill my stomach first and worry about it later.'
But he committed this incident to memory.
'I'll have to be careful from now on...'
he thought.
***
The line was long; the number of refugees had likely surpassed forty or fifty thousand.
Qin Fang was in the middle of the crowd... After waiting for a full two hours, he finally reached the city gate.
The sky was already dark, but the city gate was brightly lit by torches.
Each iron cauldron was so large it would take four or five people to encircle it. Inside, a thin sorghum porridge was simmering. Having not eaten for a long time, Qin Fang stared at the gooey porridge, his mouth watering uncontrollably, which only made the pain in his stomach worse.
When it was his turn, an official grabbed a bowl from the side... It was a large, wide-mouthed bowl, clearly a crudely-fired, defective product. The official ladled a serving into it and handed it to him.
"Just one bowl for now, to tide you over. There are others giving out porridge inside the city. After you eat, go to the gate to register. Once registered, you can rest inside the city for the time being. We have designated an area for you, and you may only move within that zone. You are strictly forbidden from disturbing the other residents of the city! And absolutely no troublemaking! Otherwise, you will be expelled from True Martial County! Don't say you weren't warned!"
Someone was shouting loudly, announcing the rules for entering the city.
Holding the sorghum porridge, Qin Fang walked quickly toward the city gate.
Famished, he couldn't be bothered by how hot it was and began to gulp it down in large mouthfuls.
It was just an ordinary bowl of sorghum porridge, nothing more. It even had a lot of husks in it, making it coarse and scratchy on his throat.
But to the current Qin Fang, it was like sweet rain from heaven. His throat, which had felt practically stuck together, finally opened up...
In just a short moment, he had downed the entire large bowl of sorghum porridge.
He let out a long breath...
The intense hunger was temporarily suppressed, and the sharp pain in his stomach finally subsided.
But clearly, this small amount of food was far from enough.
Still, the officials had been clear: the portion at the gate was just to tide everyone over. There were others distributing porridge inside the city, so those who were still hungry could go in and eat more.
Moreover, True Martial County had clearly established a temporary restricted zone to house the refugees.
He followed the refugees ahead of him, step by step, and finally arrived at the registration area by the city gate.
At the gate, several Scribes were registering the incoming refugees. Everyone had to be registered.
Soon, it was Qin Fang's turn.
"Name."
"Qin Fang."
"Place of origin."
"Qin Family Village, Jingping County, Chixia County, Yanfang Prefecture."
"Do you have your Identity?"
"I do."
Hearing Qin Fang say he had his Identity, the Scribe looked up, a little surprised.
"Let me see it."
Qin Fang fumbled inside his tattered clothes for a long time before pulling out a small bamboo and wood tablet.
This was the 'Identity', also called an 'Identity Card'—the Great Yu Dynasty's version of an identification document.
The Scribe took it and examined it carefully.
'Great Yu Dynasty Identity'
'Name: Qin Fang'
'Origin: Yanfang Prefecture, Chixia County, Jingping County'
'Birth: Xiang Month, 9th Year of Guangwu'
'Features: Height seven chi, six fen; stocky build; red birthmark on right ribs, two fingers wide, shaped like a burn; index fingers on both hands slightly longer than ring fingers.'
'Status: Commoner (Farmer)'
***
'Issued by: Jingping County Yamen, Chixia County'
***
Although the Great Yu's Identity Cards didn't have portraits, they recorded prominent and unique physical details in great detail.
For example, any birthmarks or other unusual features on the body.
For instance, if someone had a scar on their face, the description would be something like, 'A long-standing old scar on the left cheek, four inches in length...'
In short, the goal was to identify features that were immediately obvious to ensure that others could use the Identity to verify if the holder was the person described.
Of course, this system was no match for modern technology.
But it was the best that could be done under ancient conditions.
According to the Identity description, Qin Fang was supposed to be stocky.
But after starving for several months, he had lost fifty or sixty jin and was now so thin he looked like a gust of wind could knock him over.
His height, however, was still there... Seven chi and six fen, which, according to his previous life's standards, was about 1.8 meters.
In the Great Yu, that was tall enough to stand head and shoulders above the crowd.
The Scribe looked at the reed-thin Qin Fang and nodded. After checking the Identity and having Qin Fang show him the birthmark on his body and his hands, the Scribe's expression visibly relaxed.
'...He has an Identity, which means he's a law-abiding citizen.'
Many of the refugees before him had claimed to have lost their Identities during their flight.
Although they were let in, everyone knew that some of them were likely criminals...
Once a person committed a crime and was caught, their Identity would be confiscated. Even if it were reissued, the crime would be recorded on it in detail.
Normally, commoners were not allowed to leave their place of origin without reason.
Even if they did, they needed travel permits and the like issued by the Government Office, and the travel would even leave a mark on their Identity. For example, it might record where they went and for what reason...
The management of commoners in this World was far stricter than he had imagined.
Of course, Qin Fang was now a refugee who had fled to True Martial County, so he naturally wouldn't have a travel permit.
But since his Identity matched his physical features, the probability of him being a law-abiding citizen was much higher.
"Alright. Don't cause any trouble after entering the city. Go to the designated area for temporary settlement. Further arrangements will be made after some time."
After recording Qin Fang's information, the Scribe stamped his Identity with a seal for 'Permitted Entry' before handing it back to him with another word of instruction.
Qin Fang bowed in acknowledgment, took his Identity, and finally walked through the True Martial County City Gate.
A line of torches illuminated a path forward. Qin Fang could see people secretly opening their windows on both sides of the street to peer at the refugees.
And at regular intervals, he saw sturdy-looking men. Their clothes weren't uniform, but they were clearly on patrol, most likely to prevent the refugees from causing chaos.
He let out a soft breath and quickened his pace, heading deeper into the city.
'It feels like I've already digested that sorghum porridge. There are other distribution points in the city; I need to get some more to eat...'
Before long, he spotted a porridge distribution point set up along the street.
A banner hung over the distribution point, bearing the four large words: 'True Martial Boxing Hall'.
'A martial arts hall...'
A glint flashed in Qin Fang's eyes.