On the main road leading in and out of the village, the floodwaters had receded to ankle level, but for the farmers who toiled in the soil, this little bit of water meant nothing.
Everyone worked together to move the sandbags from the village entrance to both sides of the road, leaving a passable path.
Every household with fertile land that was flooded mobilized to help.
They rolled up their trousers, waded through the sewage, and went to check on their rice seedlings.
Fan Jin and Ding Heli were among them.
Ding Heli didn't own any land; he had just been drying yam slices at Fan Jin's house every day for the past few days, and he would go along to check on them when he had nothing else to do.
I thought the worst that could happen was a complete crop failure in the paddy fields, but I never imagined it could be even worse!
Early in the morning, the men and women of Shanshui Village were wailing and crying on the dirt road along the field ridges.
Aunt Fan cried and wailed, "Heavens above, how am I supposed to live like this?!"
"I can't live like this anymore!"
The others weren't much better off, frequently wiping away tears as they looked at their own rice paddies.
The old village chief, leaning on a cane and wearing straw sandals, with his trousers rolled up high, didn't go down to the ridge of the field, but stood on the main road looking into the distance.
His aged eyes looked around, and he sighed deeply from time to time.
Many elderly villagers were standing on the main road, all with worried faces and sighing incessantly.
"Old village chief, what are you saying about this... this..." Old Xu wanted to say something, but in the end it turned into a sigh.
The torrential rain lasted for five or six days, and the floodwaters only receded today. The paddy fields are always low-lying, so they were prepared for the rice seedlings to be submerged in water and for this season's harvest to be completely lost.
At worst, we can work harder at the end of the year and plant another season of winter wheat to make up for it. Even if the soil isn't fertile enough, it's okay. We can still get a harvest of two or three hundred catties per mu. In addition, the court might reduce or exempt taxes due to the floods. If there is some disaster relief grain, the family can eat half full and survive.
As long as we can survive, things will gradually get better next year.
However, in the rice paddy in front of us, the rice seedlings were not just soaking in water, but were all washed away, roots and all.
The field contained water plants, withered branches, broken trees, sand, stones, and soil, but its original appearance was nowhere to be seen.
Grandpa Wang chimed in: "The soil in the field has been washed away, so the fertility is gone, and it's all hard soil, so we can't grow winter wheat."
Not only can't we plant rice this year, but even if we manage to plant it next year, the harvest will likely be extremely low. Good crops only yield good harvests if the soil is fertile, and it will probably take three to five years for these rice paddies to recover to pre-flood levels.
How are we supposed to get through these next three to five years? It's impossible.
"Let's wait for the official announcement. The floods here are so severe, the imperial court will definitely reduce taxes and allocate grain for disaster relief!" Master Fan said with bright eyes.
"Will the imperial court take care of us?" Old Man Xu asked uncertainly.
“They will definitely intervene! Don’t forget, didn’t the Emperor confiscate the property of several princes a few months ago? Each of those princes had enough wealth to support an entire city.”
"With the national treasury full, how could the Emperor ignore us, his subjects? Besides, the Emperor's confiscation of those princes' property must be for the good of us common people. Since it's for the good of the people, he can't possibly ignore them." Master Fan said this to others, but he was also saying it to himself.
Ding Heli, standing to the side, had a somber expression and pursed his lips, remaining silent.
The others felt a surge of hope and enthusiastically echoed, "Yes! The Emperor will definitely take care of us!"
"With the floods so severe, relief officials may already be on their way."
"As long as disaster relief grain is allocated and taxes are reduced for three years, we can get through even if we eat poorly."
Fan Jin didn't know what the emperor was like, but he had read the classics, and the books said that the court would definitely provide disaster relief in the event of natural disasters and floods.
He turned to look at Ding Heli, who had remained silent, and sighed softly, "The imperial court should allocate relief grain. It will be fine once the relief grain arrives."
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
