Anning originally thought that going to ask German-speaking commoners for water while dressed in a French Army uniform would earn him disdain.
Unexpectedly, the commoners showed not even the slightest bit of hostility when they saw Anning.
As Anning approached the farmhouse, just then an old farmer carrying a hoe came out from home. The farmer stopped in his tracks upon seeing Anning, placed the hoe on the ground, and looked at Anning woodenly, quietly waiting.
Despite the fact that the French Army had fought a major battle just a night's march away against the German-speaking troops yesterday, the old farmer simply looked on woodenly at Anning without showing the slightest bit of enmity.
For a moment, Anning was puzzled because the memories in his head indicated that the French Army had marched deep into the German-speaking region and then had been soundly thrashed by Frederick the Great's Prussian troops.
That's how it should be, after all. To the people of the German-speaking region, the French Army should be the invader.
Could it really be that because it is the 18th century, modern nation-states have not yet been established, so the people do not have national consciousness?
But Anning vaguely remembered a saying that since the Hussite Wars, Europe had already begun to awaken national consciousness.
The Hussite Wars happened in the 15th century, and now it was already the 18th century.
By all rights, the Prussian farmers Anning was facing should already be nationally conscious, but that wasn't the case.
Regardless, when the German farmer saw the silver coin that Anning took out, he immediately agreed to sell bread and water. He even asked Anning if he needed a cart and a coachman—the coachman would probably be himself.
Before long, the old farmer had taken out the black bread from his room according to Anning's request, and then pointing to a well in the courtyard, he said, "Draw the water yourself."
At this time, a woman covered in patched-up clothes rushed out from the house, hurried to the wellside, drew up a bucket of water, and then scooped a ladle to give to Anning.
Anning took the ladle of water, holding the bread and returned to the bushes by the door.
"Come on, have some," Andy Frost sighed and first took a big gulp from the water ladle, only to spit it out immediately. "The water is bitter!"
Anning took a sip from the ladle and sure enough, it was bitter and even had a hint of a soil taste.
Andy Frost picked up the bread, tore off a piece, and stuffed it in his mouth, but immediately spat it out: "Damn it! There are wood shavings! They deliberately gave us spoiled food to eat!"
Anning shook his head: "Young master, I don't think so. They simply don't care who wins between us and Frederick. At least, that's what I think. They are just a group of self-sustaining farmers, completely indifferent to who their King is at enmity with."
Anning was somehow certain of it, probably because of the unusually indifferent demeanor the old farmer had exhibited during their conversation.
Moreover, Anning now recalled that he ate bread with wood shavings at home as well.
Perhaps the commoners of this era just ate this kind of thing.
As for Anning himself, after running with the young master all night, he was almost starved flat and couldn't care less at the moment.
While eating the bread with wood shavings, Anning couldn't help but think of a famous scene from "Ji Xiaolan": He Shen said to Ji Xiaolan, "Have you ever seen a starving person? They're no longer human. Bran is good stuff; they would be satisfied if they could have it."
Anning hadn't reached the point of fighting with animals for feed, but he was close enough; the hard bread with wood shavings actually tasted quite good in his mouth.
Of course, it could also be that Anning's body had gotten used to this coarse grain.
However, Kroetz from the Tolleson family wasn't so lucky. He tried another bite of the bread and spat it out again.
"This bread has a strange taste..." Kroetz complained, "How can you swallow this stuff..."
Anning: "Actually, the bread provided in the army isn't much better than this. It's almost as hard as wood too. If you want it to go down easier, you can only soak it in vegetable soup."
Anning recalled the military memories that belonged to someone else, then advised, "You should eat a bit. If there's nothing in your stomach, you won't have the strength to walk. If the Prussians catch up with you, you'll have no choice but to become a prisoner of war."
In fact, Anning thought it wasn't a big deal for a noble to be taken prisoner, since after all he was a noble, and even if captured by the Prussian side he would be treated well; they would likely just demand a ransom from the Duke of Orleans.
However, Kroetz shook his head: "I cannot become a prisoner. It would make me lose face in front of everyone at the club!"
"Club?" Anning frowned. This was a term unfamiliar to Andy Frost, a leatherworker's son.
After all, the only knowledge Andy Frost had was from what he learned at the church's Sunday school when he was a child, which was barely enough to recognize the few words on his family's work orders. The highbrow term "club" had nothing to do with the crude folk from a leatherworker's household.
But Anning now was different, he not only knew the word "club," but also that clubs had recently become fashionable in France.
With the spread of Enlightenment ideas in France, the country was in a state of intellectual flourishing. The emerging intellectual class in Paris formed all sorts of clubs centered around different ideologies.
By the time of the great Revolution, these clubs would become the forerunners of the various factions.
For example, the Jacobin was originally a group of intellectuals from Brittany who formed the "Brittany Club," which later evolved into the Society of the Friends of Liberty and Equality of the Jacobins.
It seemed that Kroetz had also joined a club, and being captured on the battlefield would completely tarnish his reputation amongst his fellows at the club.
Damn it, Anning thought, I risk my life to save you, and it's all just to preserve your reputation at the club.
You people who don't worry about being mistreated should just dutifully carry your burdens, you scoundrels.
Of course, Anning did not voice these thoughts.
He had finished his half of the bread, but his still empty stomach made him covet the other half that Kroetz held.
Anning said, "My young sir, if you can't stomach the food of the common folks, just let me have it, so I can carry you while we flee."
Kroetz looked at the bread in his hand with a determined expression: "No, I must eat it, I must survive and return to my country. You've already bothered yourself too much for my sake."
He tore off a piece of bread with a resolute face and stuffed it into his mouth.
While chewing the bread, Kroetz's face resembled that of a pilgrim monk on a path of penance.
Just then, Anning suddenly heard the sound of horse hooves.
He immediately stood up, gripping the military saber borrowed from Kroetz, vigilantly watching the direction of the sound.
The cavalry appeared in the blink of an eye.
From a modern perspective, this troop looked like they didn't dress properly, wearing their jackets half on, with the rest draped like capes.
But Anning knew that this was the standard uniform of the cavalry.
The cavalry originated in Hungary, and the initial cavalrymen from various countries were mostly Hungarians, hence adopting the Hungarian traditional costume.
The half-worn jacket that doubles as a cape is called a pelisse. It is generally translated as "fur jacket," but when this word appears with dolman, it refers to the traditional attire of the Hungarians.
Because the cavalry from various countries all wore this attire, they were typically distinguished by the color of the uniform.
Anning recognized from the colors that this troop was from the French Army's cavalry.
But Anning did not relent.
He knew that the cavalry usually had poor discipline and it was possible they would mistake Anning for a deserter and kill him for the sake of looting.