Li Haoran stood up and said, "Fellow villagers! Listen to me!"
It would have been fine if he hadn't shouted, but when he did, everyone turned around and saw the county magistrate in his official uniform.
"You bastard! Hand over the food!"
"Right! Tell me where the food is! If you don't tell me, I'll kill you!"
These people were no longer the common people who would kneel down and pay homage to officials in fear. In the face of famine, they were no longer afraid of even the gods.
The people were rubbing their fists, glaring at Li Haoran, ready to tear him to pieces at any moment. The court had withheld grain, and the people were venting their anger on the court. And Li Haoran, at this moment, represented the court.
Seeing that the situation was not good, Gao Er drew his knife and protected Li Haoran.
Under normal circumstances, a bailiff drawing his sword would scare everyone, but now, in the eyes of the hungry people, the sword was no more powerful than a toothpick.
The people's anger was about to ignite. Li Haoran pushed Gao Er aside and said, "Fellow villagers, I am Li Haoran, the county magistrate. I know you are here to ask for disaster relief grain. But the imperial court has not allocated any relief grain. Even if you kill me, it will be of no avail. I will go to Haizhou Prefecture to ask for grain. There must be grain in the granary of Haizhou Prefecture. Give me three days. If you still can't raise the grain after three days, I will join you in rebelling against the imperial court!"
After hearing this, the people's emotions finally calmed down a bit. But someone said, "How do we know if you will come back after going to Haizhou? If you run away, we will starve to death!"
"Yes, we can't let him go. Three days, what are we going to eat during these three days?"
"That's right. I haven't eaten anything for four or five days. I don't know if I can make it through the next three days. I can't let him go!"
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