Chapter 365: Chapter 355: The Foreknowledge
Fengyu was deeply alarmed by the chaos in the city. When had Yangzhou ever faced such disorder and desolation?
"Miss, I’ll find a way to take you out of Yangzhou City. I fear this chaos will affect you," Nuanyang said solemnly. "It’s too dangerous here."
"But can we even leave under these circumstances?" Fengyu was equally worried, yet if she left, what would happen to her grandfather? His body had grown frail; there was no way he could endure the journey with them.
What would happen if the refugees broke into the mansion?
"Grandfather is old, and the city is in turmoil. If I leave, he won’t have a single relative by his side. How could I bear that? Besides, who would dare open the city gates in this situation?"
Unless they stormed the gates, but with their meager manpower, how could they possibly breach the gates? Outside stood tens of thousands of displaced refugees, people dying of hunger every day, their wails echoing across the fields.
This was the worst flooding disaster Yanyang had seen in thirty years.
Su Ming clutched his chest as he coughed, waving his hand weakly. "Don’t panic. With such a major crisis in Yangzhou, Marshal Fang will surely lead his troops to stabilize the situation. Don’t lose composure. After a great disaster, there’s bound to be a great epidemic. Stockpile medicinal supplies quickly, so we’re prepared for emergencies. Also..."
Before he could finish speaking, exhaustion overtook him. Fengyu hurriedly supported him, helping him steady his breath. Su Ming said, "With refugees pouring into Yangzhou from other regions, lacking shelter and food, trouble is inevitable. The State Mansion cannot accommodate and pacify them effectively; this is a failure in decision-making. Refugees only wish to survive. We still have grain in our warehouse. Azheng, organize people to open the warehouse and distribute food. The grain is limited—when making porridge, make it thin, don’t make it too thick."
"Understood!"
"Grandfather, please don’t overwork yourself. Su Grandpa and I will handle these matters. You should rest and focus on recuperating."
"Alright. With Ayu here, I can be at ease."
Housekeeper Su assembled the shopkeepers and family members to open the warehouse and distribute grain. This had always been the tradition of the Su Family—whether during floods or droughts, Su Ming’s presence in Yanyang was constant. Yangzhou boasted many wealthy merchants, and in fact, disaster relief efforts began on the very first day. Even after abandonment by the State Mansion’s officials, some merchants persisted in distributing grain.
Refugees clustered in the west side of the city, erecting simple tents that barely shielded them from the elements. However, the area was poorly managed, filthy, and chaotic. A shelter stood outside the tents, guarded by government soldiers.
Housekeeper Su and the family delivered the grain there and turned it into porridge for refugees to collect in an orderly manner. Officials maintained order, prohibiting them from leaving the western side of the city. After ten people were killed the previous night, the refugees had become more restrained; after all, they were only trying to survive.
Fengyu assigned Chunlu to handle medicinal supplies while she reviewed the records of past flood disasters. Her brows furrowed slightly. Her grandfather had said epidemics invariably followed great disasters. If an outbreak were to spread within Yangzhou City, the consequences would be unthinkable.
Nuanyang returned in haste, searching for Fengyu in a fluster, reporting on the relief efforts. The grain was far from sufficient—barely enough for half the refugees; the other half remained hungry.
Fengyu was stunned. She had already allocated a day’s food supply for thirty thousand people. How could it still not suffice? The warehouse had enough grain for only three more days, after which even the trading house would run out of reserves. Unbeknownst to Fengyu, when the Liu River levees broke, the priority in transferring assets had been grain—three entire ships’ worth—which had already sailed from Lanzhou Port. At this point, it was impossible to recall the ships. Her covert actions had been carefully restrained to avoid detection, ensuring that the original warehouse still held some reserves. Had the disaster struck three days later, she would have emptied the warehouse entirely, leaving nothing but winter provisions. She would not have spared even a single bag of rice for the State Mansion.
Fengyu exchanged her ornamental hairpin and elegant gown for a long robe of green, disguised herself as a man, and followed Nuanyang to observe the refugees’ situation. What she saw enraged her.
The Twelve Provinces were besieged by famine, and with food supplies cut off, the victims surged toward Jiangnan. In previous years, the Twelve Provinces would share the burden, but now it had fallen entirely on Jiangnan. Knowing that the Twelve Provinces were impoverished to the point of starvation, facing the icy winds and snow, the refugees did not want to freeze to death on the roads. But arriving in Yangzhou—could they truly receive enough food?
While the wealthy households of Yangzhou indeed opened their warehouses for relief efforts, human greed reared its head during these times. Amid the queues collecting food, there was a large group of people whose clothes, though worn, were tidy—a stark contrast to the refugees. The refugees, having begged their way there, were dressed in ragged, thin clothing, revealing skin in many places. It was winter, yet many wore only single layers, their faces gaunt, unkempt hair alike. This group was clearly Yangzhou locals, coming to take the refugees’ food.
"Let’s add rice bran and fine sand into the porridge," Fengyu decided decisively—a lesson taught by Su Ming before her departure, though she hadn’t understood it initially.
Rice bran was animal feed. In affluent Yangzhou, people rarely ate rice bran; only in the poorest areas would humans compete with animals for it. Porridge mixed with rice bran and sand would be unbearably hard to swallow. This was no longer about relief—it was about survival. Su Ming had wanted her to see it with her own eyes to understand, leading to her disguise today.
Su Ming had distributed relief countless times, understanding human nature intimately. "Even thin porridge made from pristine white rice—everyone will queue up to take a share. Not all of them are refugees; some are locals whose households already have food. Given the opportunity to obtain free supplies, of course they would come, robbing refugees of their portions. Yangzhou is prosperous; few truly go hungry here. Winter provisions are abundant. The ones genuinely suffering hunger are the refugees—those who’ve gnawed on tree bark during their southward journey won’t complain about bran or sand in their porridge."
Indeed, after the bran and sand were added, a man dressed neatly took one sip and spat it out, cursing furiously. "What is the Su Family’s Trading House trying to do? Adding bran and sand to the porridge—it’s unfit for consumption! Are you offering help or causing harm?"
The man shouted angrily, his face livid.
Not far behind him, a child saw the scattered white porridge on the ground, stumbled forward, and began picking up rice grains to eat. Fengyu’s heart ached sharply at the sight—the child appeared to be no older than five or six.
She recalled her own days as a wanderer, she too had picked up grain from the ground to eat.
The men behind the neatly dressed man attempted to overturn the pot in front of the shelter. Fengyu, furious, shouted, "The rice in the Su Family’s warehouse was shipped with bran and sand unsifted. That’s why the porridge contains them. You refuse to eat it because you’ve been living well in Yangzhou, disdainful of such food. But ask the true refugees—would they reject it? The bowl of porridge you smashed is the hot meal refugees have yearned for during their journey down south!"
The man’s status was exposed, and he flew into a rage, trying to create a scene. Nuanyang kicked him forcefully, declaring, "A man of honor, with food at home, yet stealing from refugees—aren’t you ashamed!"
The refugees were not oblivious; still, they had come to Yangzhou, occupying land and consuming local resources. Knowing that locals were taking relief provisions, they refrained from speaking out.
The Yangzhou locals in the queue showed no guilt, responding indifferently, "It’s free; why shouldn’t we claim it? Had we known it contained bran and sand, we wouldn’t have bothered."
"You may not want it, but there are plenty of people who do!"
A large group left the queue soon after, allowing the genuine refugees to collect food. Those Yangzhou locals who stayed likely had truly impoverished households, which was understandable.
Seeing the order restored, Fengyu lifted the child picking food off the ground. The child was filthy, save for his pair of dark, clear eyes. "Where are your parents?"
"They’re all dead. I’m alone now."
Fengyu thought of a companion from her days as a wanderer—someone of the same age. She wondered whether he had met a kind soul after their separation, how he had survived, and who he had become.
Fengyu took the bun handed to her by Chunlu and placed it in the child’s palm. "Eat."
"Thank you, sister."
"I’m your brother!"
The child broke into a grin. "...Thank you, brother."
Fengyu felt compassion but remained sober-minded, knowing she couldn’t save everyone. She forced herself to suppress the discomfort and rise, when suddenly, Nuanyang’s incredulous voice caught her attention: "Master... look who’s here?"
Fengyu turned and saw a familiar face. Clad in an elegant, simple dress, she ran toward Fengyu like a madwoman, refraining from calling her name, but hugged her tightly.
"I missed you so much!"
A reunion with an old acquaintance in a foreign land.