Chapter 145 Lu Qian's Confession
The porridge distribution has begun.
The queue grew longer and longer, winding from the temple gate down the steps like a withered snake.
Many of them were already starving and emaciated, using branches they had picked up as support to slowly and unsteadily climb the steps.
A woman was holding a swaddled baby in her arms; the child's face was exposed, yellow as a sheet of paper.
He crawled up the last few stone steps, using both his hands and feet, his eyes vacant, his only instinct for survival gone.
In the open space outside the temple, several large iron pots were set up, with firewood crackling underneath.
The villagers who came to help spontaneously divided into several teams. Some were responsible for chopping firewood and adding fuel to the fire, some were responsible for washing rice and cooking it, and some were responsible for maintaining order.
The aroma of rice porridge gradually filled the air.
Jiang Ling was unable to help and wandered around listlessly.
Suddenly, she noticed a few young men who looked like they came from the village digging a pit in a slightly secluded spot on the mountainside.
I don't know why?
Everyone else is chopping wood, but they're the only ones digging holes?
Jiang Ling subconsciously took a few steps in that direction.
As we got closer, we saw several unidentified objects wrapped in straw mats by the edge of the pit.
Jiang Ling stopped abruptly and turned back.
A wind rose on the mountain, rustling the locust tree leaves, and a few leaves fell onto the steps.
She walked back to the vicinity of the soup kitchen and saw three figures huddled near the roots of a locust tree:
An elderly woman with gray hair and a face full of wrinkles, a middle-aged woman with a sallow complexion and numb eyes, and a child who looked about four or five years old but was so thin that he was just skin and bones.
The child was clearly starving. He held the bowl of porridge that had just been served in his hands and poured it into his mouth before it cooled down. It was so hot that he grimaced, but he couldn't bear to spit it out. He didn't even have time to chew the few remaining grains of rice at the bottom of the bowl.
After finishing his drink, he kept licking the bowl, his eyes full of unsatisfied enjoyment.
The old woman watched silently, her cloudy eyes filled with heartache and reluctance.
She shakily reached out and pushed her untouched bowl of porridge towards the child in the woman's arms.
"...Let the child eat some more..."
The woman snapped back to her senses, grabbed the old woman's hand, and her voice trembled with tears:
"Mother! You didn't have any porridge yesterday. If you don't eat today, how can you hold on?"
A numb calmness appeared on the old woman's withered face; she gently shook her head.
"I'm an old man, and the fact that I'm still alive and haven't been eaten is already a blessing from God. Drinking this much more won't make me live much longer, so why waste food... I'll save as many lives as possible."
As she spoke, she brought the bowl closer to the child's mouth. The child smelled the aroma of the porridge, brought his little mouth closer, and drank it in small sips.
The woman holding the child was already sobbing uncontrollably.
Jiang Ling watched this scene, feeling as if a huge stone had been placed in her heart, making it almost impossible for her to breathe.
An indescribable bitterness and sorrow rushed to my nose and eyes.
She always thought of herself as just an observer of this world, a mere passerby.
But now, looking at the family under the locust tree, and at the refugees on the steps holding bowls of porridge, their eyes filled only with the will to survive, she realized that she was now in their shoes.
During a great famine, people resorted to cannibalism...
Bones lie exposed in the wilderness, and for a thousand miles no rooster crows...
At this moment, she truly understood how cruel the few words in the history books represented.
She was always afraid of getting into trouble, afraid of exposing her secrets, and afraid of her peace being disrupted.
These villagers, who could barely feed themselves, were willing to save their own food to help these helpless refugees.
And what about her? She could have done so much more, but because she was afraid of trouble, she stayed hidden in her little shop...
Was she wrong?
The wind was still blowing, and a few more locust leaves fell, landing on Jiang Ling's shoulder.
Xiao Yi ran over, holding an empty bowl in her hands. Seeing Jiang Ling standing there motionless with a blank stare, she asked worriedly,
"Sister, what's wrong? Are you cold? I'll go get you a coat."
Jiang Ling shook her head and patted his shoulder.
"It's getting late. Go and call Brother Xiaoran. We're going back."
It's almost late afternoon, and Xiao Ran should go back to class. The porridge in the pot is almost gone, and there's nothing they can do to help if they stay.
Jiang Ling led Xiao Ran and Xiao Yi back the way they came.
The three of them were in a bad mood throughout the journey, their minds filled with the tragic plight of the refugees they had just encountered.
When Jiang Ling returned from the temple, she saw Lu Qian and Li Hong guarding the shop entrance from afar.
The guards came to report in the morning that the shop was open.
But after everything that happened last night, he must be in court today to clear his name.
He arrived around noon and learned from the villagers that Jiang Ling had gone to Bailong Temple, so he has been waiting ever since.
Today, Lu Qian was wearing a dark blue brocade robe, unlike his usual casual style. The collar was embroidered with dark patterns, clearly not the attire of an ordinary merchant.
The two horses were already tied up to the side, and he stood there with his hands behind his back at the door.
With lowered eyes and downcast gaze, he looked as if he were being punished.
Li Hong stood behind him, his posture upright, his eyes scanning the alleyway warily, exuding a more menacing aura than usual.
Jiang Ling approached, but didn't speak first; she simply looked at Lu Qian quietly.
The words Qin Zhao had spoken that morning came to mind.
Lu Qian.
Qin Qian.
She had long suspected Lu Qian's identity, but she never expected that even his name was fake.
"Miss Jiang," he called out, his voice lower than usual.
Li Hong, who was behind him, also bowed.
"Young Master Lu." Jiang Ling remained silent for a long time before finally lowering her head and responding, her voice devoid of any emotion.
She walked past them and silently opened the wooden door of the grocery store.
Looking at her calm, almost aloof profile, Lu Qian already understood.
Qin Zhao stayed here overnight last night, and judging from Jiang Ling's expression now, his identity has obviously been exposed.
In fact, he had long wanted to reveal his identity to Jiang Ling, but every time the words were on the tip of his tongue, he didn't know how to say them.
I kept thinking I'd wait for a better opportunity, but I never expected it would end up in such a passive way.
Xiao Ran set up the tables and chairs outside the shop, and several classmates waiting for class gathered around.
Mr. Fu's figure appeared in the distance on the village road.
Jiang Ling invited Lu Qian and Li Hong into the shop.
Xiao Ran quickly poured tea for them, but her eyes darted curiously between the two men.
"Xiao Ran, go to class. You don't need to worry about this place," Jiang Ling instructed softly.
"Okay, okay." Xiao Ran obediently replied and went out.
Standing to the side, Xiao Yi looked at the atmosphere with some confusion, twisting her fingers.
Jiang Ling looked at him, her tone softening slightly: "Xiao Yi, why don't you go out and play too?"
"Yes, sister." Xiao Yi felt as if she had been granted a pardon and ran out.
Only Jiang Ling, Lu Qian, and Li Hong standing behind Lu Qian remained in the shop.
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