Chapter 170 The Warmth of Refugees
Just then, the curtain to the private room was lifted again, and Fang Shijie appeared in the doorway, his face showing just the right amount of surprise and apology:
"Young Master Ji? I didn't expect to see you here. Please forgive my intrusion."
Ji Wensheng looked up and saw it was him. He was taken aback for a moment, then smiled and said, "Brother Fang? What brings you here?"
Both of them were playboys who frequented brothels, and he had met Fang Shijie a few times.
There was no old affection, only old grudges.
Last time, Ji Wensheng almost lost out to Shiyi Niang in terms of money.
Ji Wensheng was curious at the time: where did this young master Fang come from, who was so generous?
Several investigations were conducted into his background, but all yielded no results.
This person is clearly unfathomable; it's best not to offend him before you've figured out his background.
"I've come to take Hongxiu back. She sang for a long time today and must be tired." Fang Shijie walked to Hongxiu's side and naturally put his hand on her shoulder.
Seeing this, Ji Wensheng's eyes flashed with understanding, and his smile became somewhat playful: "So Hongxiu is Brother Fang's confidante. Then I will not take what belongs to her."
Fang Shijie cupped his hands and smiled, "I just came in and heard Brother Ji asking about the incense? To be honest, that incense was something I asked someone to find for Hongxiu. It was just some worthless little thing. I didn't expect Brother Ji to laugh at me like that."
He didn't want too many people to know the secret of the floral water yet, nor did he want too many people to know about the existence of the Lucky General Store.
Ji Wensheng glanced at Fang Shijie, then at Hongxiu, clearly doubting this claim.
At this moment, the mother, who was under the peony, lifted the curtain and came in. When she saw Fang Shijie there, the smile on her face immediately froze.
She knew that Fang Shijie had booked Hongxiu for a month, and since the time was not up, he shouldn't let Hongxiu entertain customers anymore.
She just thought that it was a rare occasion for Young Master Ji to come, and originally only wanted Hongxiu to take advantage of the opportunity.
But if we continue like this, we might offend both sides.
Although this claim was questionable, since Fang Shijie had already said so, Ji Wensheng couldn't press the matter further.
"I see, I was asking too many questions. Since Miss Hongxiu is tired, Brother Fang, please take her back to rest."
"Thank you for your understanding, Brother Ji." Fang Shijie cupped his hands in greeting to Ji Wensheng, nodded to his mother, and then turned and left with Hongxiu.
The mother was somewhat surprised to see that everything was calm and peaceful.
Just as I was about to say something to Young Master Ji, I saw him leave with a cold face.
————
The next morning, on the outskirts of the capital.
The autumn wind, carrying a chill, swept across the refugee settlements outside the city, swirling up withered grass and debris that seeped into the tattered robes of the disaster victims.
In front of the makeshift porridge shed, two large iron pots were placed on earthen stoves, and the porridge inside was bubbling and emitting a unique aroma that was a mixture of wheat fragrance and a hint of bitter grass roots, which barely dispelled the chill.
Zhao Jingxing, dressed in a dark-colored casual uniform, stood by the pot, watching the soldiers operate with focused attention.
The thick porridge is filled with fine pieces of wheat bran and some cleaned grass root fragments. When stirred, you can see the brown rice mixed at the bottom.
This brown rice was given to me by Jiang Ling. The grains are plump and far superior in quality to the grains produced by the Dayu Dynasty itself.
Even with wheat bran added, the porridge made from it is much more filling than the thin porridge we usually eat.
"Sir, today's porridge was prepared as you instructed, with each pot containing 30% wheat bran, 20% grass roots, and 50% brown rice." The sergeant in charge of cooking the porridge bowed and replied as soon as he arrived.
Zhao Jingxing nodded, took the long ladle handed to him by the squad leader, bent down and probed into the pot. The porridge he scooped up was thick and coated with a paste, with wheat bran and bits of grass roots evenly mixed in.
The grains provided by Jiang Ling, even the so-called coarse grains, were more nourishing than the fine rice available on the market.
For this reason, he specifically instructed that a certain proportion of wheat bran, as well as washed and crushed grass roots and tree bark, be added when cooking the porridge.
Although the porridge cooked in this way may not look as good and has a rougher texture, it maximizes the shelf life of the grain. It also effectively prevents those with ill intentions from trying to steal disaster relief supplies.
Before cooking porridge every day, he would personally check the consistency and ingredients of the porridge, and today was no exception.
The late autumn wind carried a biting chill, and the refugees, barely clothed, shivered in the cold wind.
It's time to distribute the cloth, otherwise many people will freeze to death this winter.
He turned and walked towards the newly erected shed on the other side, where thick bolts of cloth he had obtained from Jiang Ling were piled up.
"Begin distributing the cloth," he ordered in a deep voice.
The news spread like wildfire among the refugees.
The government not only had to distribute porridge, but also issue a public announcement!
The crowd immediately stirred, rushing towards the booth to announce the event, afraid that if they were a step too late, they would miss their turn.
"Line up! Take your turn, one person gets half a horse. No cutting in line, no taking more than your share! Anyone who causes trouble will be thrown out of the resettlement point!"
The sergeant's booming voice, carrying an air of authority, immediately quelled the unrest among the displaced people.
The initially chaotic procession gradually became more organized, and although the disaster victims were anxious, they dared not actually charge.
After all, staying here allows us to survive, but leaving here would mean certain death.
The logistics officer hurried over with the ledger in his hand, bowed, and said, "Lord Zhao, today we need to distribute 320 bolts of cloth to the east of the city, corresponding to 640 people. The ledger has been checked and is ready for your perusal."
In this era, a bolt of cloth was usually enough to make two sets of adult clothing and one set of children's clothing.
Zhao Jingxing was thoughtful and, in order to avoid disputes and maximize the use of resources, had already ordered the entire bolt of cloth to be cut in half, with each person receiving half a bolt.
They can take the refugees back to make clothes and blankets.
Zhao Jingxing took the ledger, checked the quantities, inventory, and distribution records, and found no errors or omissions.
He nodded and handed back the ledger: "Distribute according to the ledger. For each person, have them put their fingerprint on the ledger. No mistakes are allowed."
At this moment, Cheng Fang strode over in a flurry of activity, his bright brocade robe standing out conspicuously among the drab crowd of disaster victims.
He just arrived from the west side of the city.
"Jingxing, how's the situation here? Is there anything I can help you with?"
Zhao Jingxing needed trustworthy people, and immediately said:
"You've come at the right time. The distribution of the cloth is of great importance. Keep an eye on things here for me and make sure it's fair and without any mistakes."
The fabric was of exceptional quality, far surpassing any other textiles available in the capital. Their biggest concern was that the personnel in charge would be tempted by the money and embezzle some for themselves.
"Leave it to me!" Cheng Fang said solemnly, his usual playful demeanor gone.
Under Cheng Fang's supervision and the soldiers' strenuous efforts, the distribution work, though slow, proceeded in an orderly manner.
One by one, the refugees stepped forward and took the half-piece of heavy, unusually thick cloth from the soldier.
When the thick, soft fabric was finally placed in their hands, almost everyone who received it was stunned.
What... what kind of cloth is this?
It's so thick and warm!
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