In a dilapidated temple where refugees gather in the south of Yuanzhou City, a little girl of about five or six years old carefully held a broken bowl. In the bowl was almost half the amount of porridge she received after queuing for a whole day at the porridge factory.
The bottom is clearly visible.
The little girl handed the porridge bowl to the mouth of an old woman lying at the feet of the Maitreya Buddha statue, and shouted timidly in a childish voice: "Grandma, grandma, open your mouth."
The old woman had gray hair and a face full of wrinkles. She had lost her shape a long time ago and had more air coming out and less air coming in. At this time, she tried hard to open her cloudy eyes, grinned at the little girl, and said in a voice like a mosquito: "Nanny, eat it."
,Grandma is not... not hungry, please eat quickly."
The little girl shook her head, holding the broken bowl in her little hands that were red from the cold, and carefully handed it forward: "Grandma, have some porridge."
The old woman didn't even have the strength to shake her head. She wanted to raise her hand to touch her granddaughter's head, but she could only move her fingers with all her strength. Then, she breathed her last breath, her eyes slowly closed, and she couldn't move her fingers again.
Can't open it...
Seeing that the old woman didn't open her mouth, the little girl took the broken bowl into her arms, then reached out to scoop out a few grains of rice from the widow's rice soup, and then passed her little hand to the old woman's lips: "Grandma, eat, I'll feed you!"
The surrounding refugees couldn't bear to see it and turned their faces away. Some shed tears, some sighed, and some squatted beside the door of the ruined temple in a daze.
Only a boy about ten years old silently swallowed his bowl of rice soup, walked up to the little girl, and said, "Stop feeding her. Your grandma is dead. You can eat it yourself, otherwise you will die too."
The little girl still raised her little hands and stared blankly at her grandma for a long time. Finally she burst into tears with a loud "Wow". She couldn't hold the broken bowl in her hand and fell to the ground into pieces. The rice soup soaked into the old woman's tattered clothes and clothes.
The pair of black cloth shoes with several toes exposed.
"What a pity." The boy looked at the few grains of rice on the ground and said, "It doesn't matter, we can't survive like this for a few days anyway."
Upon hearing this, the surrounding residents immediately started buzzing with discussions.
"Yes, one bowl of porridge a day will save your life!"
"I heard that only the civilian warehouse has been opened, and the official warehouse has not been opened yet..."
"The Yuanzhou warehouse is so big, why not open it?"
"Yeah, I can't live anymore!"
"We are outsiders, and the Yuanzhou government doesn't care whether we live or die!"
"I heard that Master Fu Zun is at Tingquan Temple in Xiantai Mountain in the west of the city. Let's go and beg him!"
"Yes, if this continues, we will all die!"
"Let's go, let's go together."
"Let's go, we have to find a way to survive!"
As a result, more and more people responded. After finishing the porridge in their hands, they formed a group and walked to Sendai Mountain.
The boy picked up a piece of tattered red cloth that didn't look too dirty under the altar table, wiped the hand of the little girl who was crying "wow wow", then took the little girl and bowed to the old woman, saying: "The old man is here
God has mercy on you, may your daughter survive. I'm offended."
After kowtowing three times, he carefully peeled off the old woman's outermost tattered jacket, wrapped it around the little girl, then pulled off a piece of red cloth in front of the shrine and covered the old woman.
After doing this, he bowed again, then picked up the little girl and followed the crowd.
Inside a black carriage on the official road outside the temple.
A young man who looked to be in his mid-twenties lowered the car curtain with a solemn expression and asked, "Has our food been delivered?"
The steward hurriedly replied: "Back to the Second Master, according to your instructions, 10,000 shi of rice and ten carts of winter clothes were delivered to Yuanzhou Civilian yesterday. The superintendent of the warehouse personally ordered and collected them."
"There are enough warehouses in Yuanzhou, and with our food donations, even if the refugees continue to come, it should be more than enough for more than a month. By then, the court's resettlement policy and relief food will have arrived." The young man slowly lay half-lying in the carriage.
On the gorgeous soft body, he tapped the table with his right hand as if unintentionally, and said: "How many days have it been? The porridge factory is full of porridge, but can you use chopsticks?"
The maid in the carriage gently handed over the stove and said sweetly: "You don't know, Mr. Liu? Manager Liu just said that none of the eleven granaries in Yuanzhou Beicang has been opened. The porridge factory has recently donated porridge.
They are all made from rice from our Huo family."
"Do you think our Huo family is being taken advantage of?" Mr. Huo covered his lips with a Jinzhou silk handkerchief, coughed twice, and said slowly, "Let's go to Tingquan Temple and see what a fool our prefect is.
How long can the ghost head shrink?"
"Yes!" Manager Liu responded and whispered a few words to the coachman, and the carriage followed far behind the refugee team and drove towards Xiantai Mountain.
Along the way, some of the refugees came after hearing the news, and some followed inexplicably. In short, the team grew stronger.
The black carriage always followed the refugee procession from a distance. When they reached the bottom of the mountain, Mr. Huo asked his maid to open the curtains. He still lazily leaned on the couch and watched for a while, then suddenly raised his chin and asked: "What about the young man?"
, do you know who he is?"
Manager Liu was stunned for a moment. Following the young man's gaze, he saw a fair and cute boy at the end of the line in front carrying a thin little girl on his back. Then he came to his senses and said quickly: "I am following the refugees from Tongzhou."
The team entering the city seems to have no family members. Second Master, do you want to check?"
"No need." Mr. Huo covered his mouth and coughed lightly, shook his head, and said slowly: "Be more careful and don't let him die."
…
The entire city of Yuanzhou City is under martial law, and there have never been so many soldiers patrolling the neighborhoods of Yuanzhou City.
The people all speculated that the Qusu army was about to attack Yuanzhou City? Wasn't it being beaten away by the Northwest Cavalry?
If the atmosphere in the streets and alleys was tense, then the atmosphere in the Yuanzhou government office was so low that Yuanzhou Prefecture Prime Minister Yin Duomi broke out in a cold sweat. Lord Fu Zun found an excuse to pray for the people and refugees of Yuanzhou and hid in Tingquan Temple.
But he was asked to face this little king of hell in the northwest and report on the resettlement of the refugees.
"Unfortunately, there are too many refugees. There are currently seven porridge factories in the city and suburbs that are in short supply, but the number of refugees is still increasing..." Yin Fucheng said this and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
Wang Chi just sat under the plaque hanging high in the mirror, looking at the information in his hand without looking at Yin Fucheng. But at this time, he frowned with a cold face, and naturally showed that he had been on the battlefield all year round.
The murderous momentum he brought with him made Yin Fu Cheng sweat in the cold weather and he did not dare to say any more.
"What's the solution?" Wang Chi raised his head and swept his eyes as sharp as a knife. Yin Fu Cheng's legs went weak and he almost fell to his knees.
Wang Chi threw the information in his hand into the silver carbon brazier and said coldly: "I'm here to arrest people, not to wipe your butts, Lieutenant General Xi!"
"The end is here." Xi Yuanqi clasped his fists and came out, making Yin Fu Cheng tremble.
"You go to that mountain or temple and invite Lord Sun Zhengtong back. If you don't do the business, just pray for the blessing of the child!"
Seeing Xi Yuanqi take the order and leave, Prime Minister Yin Fucheng breathed a sigh of relief. When Magistrate Sun came back, he no longer had to take care of anything.
After Wang Chi finished speaking, he glanced at Fu Cheng coldly: "Waiting for me to keep you for dinner?"
Yin Fu Cheng was startled. When he stood up in a hurry, his legs went weak and he knelt down. Shi Ling, who had been sitting next to him silently, couldn't help but laugh out loud, "Master Fu Cheng, you don't have to be so polite."
Yin Fucheng laughed awkwardly, bowed quickly and left the office.
Wang Chi, however, could not laugh. He still held a secret letter sent by the scout in his hand and did not throw it into the brazier. He frowned and said nothing.
Shi Ling also stopped smiling and asked curiously: "Brother Xueji, is there any new news?"
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