Chapter 144 White Dragon Temple's Porridge Distribution
Jiang Ling stood at the door for a while, enjoying the warmth of the autumn afternoon.
Not long after, Xiao Ran came out carrying three steaming bowls of noodles.
He divided the ingredients very carefully; the portion sizes and the number of meatballs in the three bowls of noodles were all significantly different, decreasing in that order.
He placed the largest bowl, with the most meatballs, in front of Jiang Ling.
He kept the middle bowl for himself, while the smallest bowl, containing only one meatball, was placed in front of Xiaoyi.
Xiao Yi, smelling the aroma of noodles and the oily fragrance of meatballs wafting towards him, was already drooling with envy.
White noodles with meatballs—this was a delicacy he never dared to dream of before, so how could he possibly expect fairness?
Jiang Ling also considered that his stomach was weak from being hungry for a long time, and that a sudden binge eating would be harmful to his health, so she acquiesced to Xiao Ran's arrangement.
She picked up her chopsticks, took a bite of noodles, and said gently, "Eat up, eat slowly, don't choke."
Seeing that Jiang Ling had started eating, Xiao Ran and Xiao Yi dared to begin eating their noodles.
Xiao Ran was already used to the refined food in the shop and ate it elegantly.
Xiao Yi was different. Even though his family hadn't suffered any disasters, they were still poor, and he could only afford to eat white flour a few times a year.
He wasn't very skilled at using chopsticks, so he could only try to get the noodles into his mouth by keeping his mouth close to the rim of the bowl.
He took a bite of the white flour, and it smelled delicious! It was so soft and smooth!
It was soaked in a rich broth, which also had a meaty aroma.
He ate very quickly, not caring at all that the noodles were scalding hot.
His long years of wandering had instilled in him a habit of eating slowly, because if he ate too slowly, there would be no food left.
In no time, he finished the noodles and was slowly drinking the hot soup.
He deliberately saved the meatball, which was bigger than his mouth, for last, to savor slowly.
These meatballs were handmade and specially bought by Jiang Ling; each one is very substantial.
One bite and it's all meat, and it's even chewy.
This time, Xiao Yi ate very slowly. He used his chopsticks to pick up the meatballs and took small bites, eating with great care, as if he were savoring some unparalleled delicacy.
We had just finished eating noodles when the area outside became lively.
A group of women carrying baskets walked in twos and threes, seemingly heading out of the village.
Jiang Ling asked Zhao Dasao, who was passing by, curiously, "Sister-in-law, what are you all going to do?"
Sister-in-law Zhao stopped and explained to her, "Miss Jiang, you probably don't know yet, but Bailong Temple on the mountain is going to distribute porridge to help the refugees this afternoon. We thought we'd go over and lend a hand, light a fire, cook some porridge, and bring some of our own grains with us, as a way to accumulate some good karma."
Jiang Ling was somewhat surprised: "Didn't the government distribute porridge at the city gate? Why is the temple also needed to distribute porridge?"
Another woman spoke up: "The government's porridge isn't enough! There's only one hour left, and with so many people, many elderly, weak, women, and children can't get any and have to go elsewhere. They ended up at Bailong Temple. I heard the abbot has been distributing porridge for several days now, and the number of refugees gathering at the temple gate is increasing."
The temple didn't have much food stored to begin with, and I heard that the monks themselves only eat one meal a day, giving the saved food to the disaster victims. Our village's harvest this year was decent, so everyone thought it best to do their part and accumulate some good karma for the elderly and children.”
Giving alms to refugees yourself would cause unnecessary trouble, but it's much simpler to do it through a temple.
Jiang Ling was lost in thought when they had already gone far away.
Xiao Ran chimed in, "Sister Jiang, my mother said this morning that she's going to help out at the temple after lunch!"
At this time, being able to help chop some firewood, light a fire, cook some porridge, or even just maintain order would be a great help.
Donating some grain in the name of Bailong Temple helps the refugees without attracting attention, which can be considered a good deed.
Jiang Ling thought for a moment and said to Xiao Ran, "Then let's go join in the fun. There are two bags of rice in the warehouse that are about to expire. Let's also bring some clean bowls and chopsticks over."
Xiao Ran's eyes lit up: "Great! I'll go carry the rice!"
Xiao Yi quickly raised her hand: "Sister, I'll go too! I can help pass the bowls and chopsticks!"
As soon as Jiang Ling finished speaking, Xiao Ran turned around and ran to the warehouse, carrying out the two bags of old rice that Jiang Ling had mentioned.
Each bag contains about 20 kilograms.
Xiao Yi wanted to help get the bowls and chopsticks, but he didn't know where they were.
Before he could even open his mouth to ask, Xiao Ran had already spoken:
"Sister Jiang, how many bowls and chopsticks do you need?"
"Twenty sets are enough; if that's not enough, we'll figure something out."
The main concern is food; we're not particular about bowls and chopsticks. Any wooden or bamboo bowl we carve out in the mountains will do.
Bailong Temple is located on a mountain, which is some distance away.
Jiang Ling and the other two then went with the main group from the village.
Jiang Ling originally planned to carry one bag of rice herself, and Xiao Ran to carry another bag of rice, while Xiao Yi would carry the bowls and chopsticks.
But Xiao Ran insisted that she not do it and carried the two bags of rice herself.
The weight made his shoulders sag slightly, yet he walked steadily.
He had worked and hunted with his parents since he was a child, and his strength had long surpassed Jiang Ling's.
Jiang Ling couldn't persuade him otherwise, so she had no choice but to walk behind him, swinging her arms.
On the way, the villagers were full of praise when they saw that Jiang Ling had donated two whole bags of grain.
"Miss Jiang is truly kind-hearted!"
"Xiao Ran is getting stronger and stronger! Miss Jiang's donation of grain is truly generous!"
"Buddha will surely bless Miss Jiang!"
Jiang Ling simply smiled and said, "It's not about how much or how little you mean; everyone feels the same way."
After walking for about half an hour, we finally reached the top of the mountain.
Jiang Lingcai discovered that Bailong Temple was quite large, with ancient cypress trees reaching the sky. Although the halls and buildings were somewhat old, they had their own solemn and dignified atmosphere.
Moreover, it wasn't just the villagers of Jishui Village who came to donate; many kind-hearted people from other nearby villages also brought food.
Many refugees sat on the steps, mostly elderly people with canes, women holding children, and thin, pale-faced children. There were almost no young or middle-aged men to be seen.
Jiang Ling was feeling puzzled when she noticed Xiao Ran's mother helping to maintain order, so she asked her a question.
Zhao Yin's wife wiped the sweat from her brow and explained, "It's a rule set by the abbot of the temple. The temple has limited food supplies, so they can only give priority to the elderly, weak, women, and children who are most vulnerable to starvation. As for the able-bodied young men, the abbot will advise them to find some odd jobs in the city or to seek a way to survive further south."
Jiang Ling suddenly realized.
It provides emergency relief, but it shouldn't encourage laziness.
By this time, the villagers had already gotten busy: some were helping to start the fire, and others were helping to wash the rice.
Xiao Ran helped Uncle Zhao move firewood, while Xiao Yi helped pass the firewood to him. Although he was not strong, he did his job seriously.
Jiang Ling watched all this and silently handed over the two bags of rice and the bowls and chopsticks she had brought to the monk in charge of receiving them.
The young monk looked at the fine white rice that Jiang Ling had donated, and it weighed a full forty catties.
He was slightly taken aback. Then he put his hands together in prayer position:
"Amitabha! Thank you, benefactor."
Before long, the first pot of porridge was ready, and the steaming aroma filled the entire temple.
The porridge was a mixed grain porridge, made with grains delivered from each household. It didn't look very appealing, but it was very filling.
The monks used large ladles to serve porridge to the refugees, filling each bowl to the brim.
They only distribute porridge once a day. The distribution ends when the sun goes down.
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