Chapter 86 Sigh

The news that has been coming in these past few days has really put my mind at ease.

In the villages in the south that were the hardest hit by the disaster, eight or nine out of ten villagers trapped inside were found and rescued one after another.

It was the yamen runners who, along with temporarily conscripted able-bodied men and villagers who had spontaneously joined in and were familiar with the mountain paths, carried the dusty, grimy people out of the ruins and the high slopes by shoulder and basket.

Although the person was rescued, the scene was truly tragic.

Some had their legs broken by collapsing roof beams, some had their heads injured by rolling stones, and many more had developed high fevers and shivering after being soaked in cold water for too long, the cold seeping into their bones.

Those who were injured and still had a breath left were carried into the charity hall.

The charity hall, which was already so crowded that there was hardly any room to move around, was now filled with many new faces.

The straw mats were so close together that it was difficult to even turn over.

The sour and foul smell is gone; instead, it has a very bitter herbal smell.

Several doctors and young apprentices from the county were busy taking pulses, writing prescriptions, and directing the decoction preparation. They were so busy that they were dizzy and unsteady on their feet.

The medicine stove burned day and night, the smoke making one's tongue taste bitter.

The injured lay curled up in pain on thin straw mats, some groaning unconsciously.

Family members stood by, their brows furrowed with worry, repeatedly wetting cloths with cool water and wiping their loved one's burning forehead.

Tears flowed silently, yet she dared not cry out loud, afraid of disturbing others and exhausting her meager strength.

Most of the villagers know each other. If we're from the same village, it's nothing more than asking someone to look after my sleeping mother or asking me to queue up for a bowl of hot water for you.

Xiaoxi also found a job at this charity.

She stood beside the large pots in the kitchen that steamed all day long, and rolled up her sleeves.

Old Wu, who cooks for the charity, is mute. He is honest and hardworking, but he simply can't take care of so many mouths to feed all by himself.

I walked over and naturally took the long-handled wooden spoon that was worn smooth and shiny from his hand.

"Uncle Wu, let me lend a hand."

Old Wu nodded without saying a word, pointed to a basket of freshly picked wild vegetables still covered in mud piled up in the corner, and then pointed to several hard, grayish pickled vegetable lumps on the cutting board.

Pay attention to the meaning; what's bubbling in the pot is old rice that Registrar Qian has been running around and talking himself hoarse these past few days, finally managing to get on credit from the grain shop.

The rice grains were yellowish, and the porridge was thin and bland, with an indescribable musty smell that made it unappetizing.

Carefully squat down and pick out the wild vegetables, pinch off the old roots and yellow leaves, wash them with clean water, and then chop them finely.

Then he placed the few pickled vegetable chunks on the cutting board, patted them loose with the back of a knife, and chopped them into very fine pieces.

She did these things quickly and attentively, as if she were preparing food for guests in her own shop.

The flames in the stove licked the bottom of the pot, and the rice soup inside gradually thickened.

Carefully watch the heat, then pour in all the chopped wild vegetables and salted vegetable bits at once.

The long-handled spoon was slowly stirred in the pot, and the bright green vegetable leaves and dark brown pickled vegetable bits tumbled and floated in the rice soup.

A savory aroma slowly masked the unpleasant musty smell.

The porridge was ready. I carefully scooped up a spoonful. There weren't many grains of rice, but the soup looked thicker, mixed with the green of wild vegetables and the dark brown of pickled vegetables. It looked much more appealing than the previous clear and watery soup.

She first ladled out a small half bowl and handed it to a woman next to her who had been helping to watch the fire.

"Auntie, please try it and see if the saltiness is to your liking."

The woman took the bowl, carefully blew on it to cool it down, and took a sip.

The warm porridge rolled over my tongue, the saltiness just right. The slight astringency of the wild vegetables was masked by the rich flavor of the pickled vegetables, and I couldn't even taste the musty smell.

Her eyes lit up, she smacked her lips, and gave Xiaoxin a thumbs up: "Girl, how did you do that to your hands? They look so much better!"

Relieved, Xiaoshi and others worked together to carry the large pot out.

Today, this pot of congee with added ingredients was distributed to everyone's bowls, and even those who had caught a cold and had little appetite managed to drink a couple more mouthfuls of the hot porridge.

Some people couldn't help but ask, "Who cooked this porridge today? It tastes better than the previous days."

Those who had fled from Zhuohe Village recognized the person and paid attention, and they all helped to speak up.

"She's a girl from our village, you haven't been there, but the meat buns and braised meat dishes at her riverside shop are absolutely delicious!"

Hearing this, some of the disaster victims from other nearby villages couldn't help but comment, smelling the rare salty aroma in the bowl.

"Once this disaster is over and things have calmed down, I absolutely have to go to her shop and try her food!"

As dusk settled, dim oil lamps were lit in the charity hall.

After carefully tidying up the stove, he patted the ashes off his clothes and prepared to return to the shop.

As soon as I stepped out of the creaking door of the charity hall, I saw Xiong Zixiang's tall figure striding towards me from the direction of the county government office.

He had a knife at his waist and a lantern in his hand, clearly having just finished patrolling the streets.

Be sure to stop and wait for him.

As Xiong Zixiang approached, the glow of the lantern illuminated a speck of soot on his face.

He reached out and gently wiped her arm with the pad of his thumb: "Are you tired? Are your arms sore? Let's go back to the shop and rest."

Xiao Xin hummed in agreement and raised her arm: "It is a little sore. When we get back, you can massage it for me, and I'll give you a back massage too."

Xiong Zixiang smiled slightly and replied with a "Okay," but his gaze involuntarily drifted toward the entrance of the county government office not far away.

There, in the glow of the lanterns, shadows flickered.

It was the county magistrate and the engineer in charge of construction. The two seemed to have just finished discussing matters and were about to part ways.

"Wait for me," Xiong Zixiang said to Xiaoyi, and then strode towards the entrance of the yamen.

He stepped forward a few paces, stopped a few steps away from the two men, clasped his hands and bowed: "My lord, Master Sigong."

The magistrate turned his head at the sound, his face showing obvious fatigue, but the blisters on the corners of his mouth had finally scabbed over, making him look a little more energetic.

He nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the knife slung across Xiong Zixiang's shoulder and the lantern he carried: "Zixiang is back. Is the street still quiet? Are there enough people?" His voice was a little hoarse, as if he were tired.

Xiong Zixiang stood still with his hands at his sides, then clasped his hands in a fist salute: "Thanks to your blessing, the streets are relatively peaceful. With Delu and San'er with us, the thieves dare not cause any trouble."

The foreman, standing to the side, stroked a few strands of his beard, a smile appearing on his face, and chimed in.

"Officer Xiong works hard patrolling the streets. Speaking of manpower, it reminds me of something. That carpenter Zhang from your village, Liu Ji, right? His skills are truly excellent. He built those partitions in the charity hall, which solved many urgent problems. Women and children finally have some shelter. I have already ordered someone to record his merits in the merit book."

Xiong Zixiang cupped his hands and said, "Master Engineer, you flatter me. Zhang Liuji is my brother-in-law. He knows some skills and it is only right for him to help the villagers. I dare not accept credit for it."

The smile in the engineer's eyes deepened, and he nodded.

"Oh? They're relatives of the constable? It's rare to find a family with both capable officials and skilled craftsmen who are willing to put in the effort!"

The magistrate remained silent, his gaze passing over Xiong Zixiang and landing in the direction of the brightly lit charity hall in the distance, where shadows of people were everywhere.

The place was noisy, and you could vaguely hear children crying.

He let out a long sigh, the sound clearly reaching Xiong Zixiang's ears.

"This disaster is truly unfortunate. The common people have suffered, their fields have been destroyed, and the land is devastated."

He paused, then looked away and focused his gaze on Xiong Zixiang: "However, I have also witnessed with my own eyes that the hearts of the people in our region have not wavered, and the bond of sharing weal and woe remains!"

He took a small step forward and looked around again: "The constables and yamen runners are dedicated to their duties, working tirelessly day and night to protect the peace of this area. Craftsmen like Zhang Liuji are generous with their skills, always ready to help the public and relieve the people from their suffering. And then there's that Registrar Qian..."

He paused slightly, as if considering his words, before continuing, "This time, we have also been running around tirelessly without ever slacking off... Many ordinary people, women and children, have spontaneously offered their help, cooking porridge to warm their hungry stomachs, sewing clothes to keep them warm, or comforting the young and the elderly to put people's hearts at ease. Everyone is of one mind and does their best; this scene is truly rare!"

He looked up at the night sky, where there were no stars or moon: "Natural disasters are severe, like tigers and wolves, destroying all things. Yet, the human heart remains warm, and a glimmer of light still shines. As long as this heart and this strength do not scatter, and everyone unites as one, even the greatest difficulties will eventually be overcome!"

Xiong Zixiang listened with his head down. Although the magistrate's words were somewhat literary, each word weighed heavily on his heart.

He clasped his hands in a fist again: "I have remembered your words, sir. We brothers will do our best to protect the peace of this place."