Famine Year, Government Mandates Two Wives

Chen Xian woke up and became a 35-year-old widower in ancient Qingxia Village. His son and daughter knelt on the ground calling him father. In his previous life, he was in his early twenties, a sol...

Chapter 207 Chaos is About to Begin

Uncle Fu was also helping to maintain order and set up a soup kitchen. Hearing this, he quickly explained, "These are all organized spontaneously by the merchants. Brother, hang in there for a few days, and the relief grain from above will be delivered soon."

The man pushed and shoved, shouting, "What relief food? I need to eat!"

He began to stomp the wooden stick in his hand on the ground.

Thud!

Fu Ping calmly shielded his father behind him, saying, "Dad, let me try to soothe him."

Uncle Fu nodded; his silly son had grown up.

"Speak politely and be courteous."

"I know, I will speak gently and carefully."

Fu Ping'an, holding a broken bowl in his hand, looked solemn and slammed it down at the man's feet: "Damn it, you think you're so great?"

Peng!

The porcelain shards shattered.

"This is all my money, my hard-earned money. I'm doing a good deed and you're making things difficult for me? Do you want to die?"

His gaze was icy, and the attendants around him quietly drew their swords and surrounded him.

Brother Xiong suddenly stiffened and said obsequiously, "I deserve to die, I misspoke."

Quietly swallow the soup in the bowl.

Fu Pingan said calmly, "See, old man, these people don't know what's good for them. They can't even talk to us properly. All the good people who fled from outside are already dead."

They're all a bunch of rotten people!

Uncle Fu nodded, quietly watching the crowd coughing.

Suddenly I realized a problem—

He whispered something to the guy named Fu.

At this moment, the merchants in the city also gathered together, alas!

"Everyone, let's come up with some ideas. The county magistrate insists that we donate money and goods. The Chu family has already donated more than 500 taels of silver. In just over a month, isn't that too much?"

"I reckon the adults will check the disaster victims' food consumption tomorrow and ask for money again. What should we do? Should we continue to bleed them dry?"

"Bleeding! Bleeding my ass, I don't want to! Whoever wants to bleed can bleed."

Someone slammed their fist on the table!