Mo Chuan and his group stood in the middle of the road, watching more and more villagers emerge from the low brick and stone walls surrounding them.
They all shared a common characteristic – sallow complexions, gaunt appearances, and a strange glint in their eyes.
Perhaps sensing that Mo Chuan's group was not to be trifled with, an old man, his face covered in dust and supported by a younger man, stepped forward. "What business brings distinguished guests to Qu Village outside Yueyang City?" he asked.
"Old man," Mo Chuan offered his pre-prepared excuse, "we are grain merchants from the east, checking on your harvest. It seems you don't have much surplus grain?"
"Grain merchants?" The village chief's eyes flickered upon hearing this. Finally, he spoke tremblingly, "Do you gentlemen have any grain on hand? Our village is willing to purchase some…"
"We didn't bring much…" Mo Chuan subtly signaled Wang Hu, who nodded and produced a large bag of mixed grain bricks they kept for emergencies. (Wheat, corn, beans, oats, and other miscellaneous grains ground into powder, mixed with water and boiled into a paste, it's very filling.)
Mo Chuan pointed to the grain bricks. "This is all we brought. This is military-grade. Ask everyone to set up a pot, get some water, and boil it into porridge to share."
The village chief quickly thanked them and invited Mo Chuan's group to his home to cook the porridge – his was the only house still possessing a large enough pot for communal cooking.
Shortly after, the Wang brothers helped Mo Chuan set up the pot. Meng Le poured water into it bucket by bucket, while Wang Lang and Wang Bao added firewood to the flames. As steam rose from the pot, Mo Chuan began to cook the porridge.
The aroma of rice and flour gradually spread through the air.
The crowd, already gathered at the courtyard entrance with bowls in hand, was impatient. If Meng Le and Ronnie hadn't held them back, they would have rushed in and seized the pot before the porridge was even ready.
"It's done!" Mo Chuan tried to make the porridge a bit thinner and then announced, "Let everyone in, one bowl per person. Queue up orderly, no pushing!"
Mo Chuan was about to serve the porridge when Wang Hu, his face grim, walked over and patted Mo Chuan on the shoulder, signaling him to come along. Mo Chuan had no choice but to ask everyone to maintain order before following Wang Hu into the village chief's kitchen.
"This quality of rice, it's definitely part of the aid. But why would they let it sit here and starve instead of eating it? Are they afraid of being poisoned?"
Mo Chuan was also surprised by the scene before him. In a corner of the kitchen, a rice bin was filled to the brim with white rice, its grains gleaming like white jade with a warm sheen.
If he hadn't seen the villagers' emaciated, skeletal appearances with his own eyes, Mo Chuan might have suspected they were trying to deceive him.
"Go and call that elder in charge over and ask him what's going on," Mo Chuan instructed. "Speak gently."
Wang Hu nodded and turned to leave the kitchen.
A moment later, the village chief was brought back, supported by a young man.
Seeing Mo Chuan standing by the rice bin, the village chief's heart sank. He quickly broke free from the young man's grasp, placed his aged hands on the lid of the rice bin, and said, "Distinguished guest, we will pay for your grain, but please do not touch this grain!"
"Village chief, don't be nervous…" Mo Chuan patted the village chief's shoulder, helped him to a chopping block to sit down, and asked, "What about that grain?"
Before the village chief could speak, the young man beside him spoke indignantly, "This is aid grain from those Cui family dogs! Those curs are afraid of someone coming to check the status of the Yu Province aid grain, so they put the grain in everyone's homes to make it look like everyone has received aid. But in reality, no one dares to eat this grain!"
Just as the young man was about to say more, the village chief coughed and looked at him, "A Ping, be mindful of your words."
But the young man was defiant. "Village chief! My third sister's child was seen by those curs stealing a handful of rice, and they beat him to death right in front of everyone! That child was only five years old! Now my third sister is skin and bones, and she clutches Ru Ru's doll and raves! And Grandma Hu! Just because her house was infested with rats! Now she can only be buried in the mass graves on the back mountain. Who dares to interfere!"
"A Ping! Cough… cough…" The village chief seemed unwilling to let Mo Chuan know more, but by suddenly raising his voice, he choked and began to cough more violently. The young man, startled, quickly patted the village chief's back.
After the village chief recovered, Mo Chuan slowly asked, "Village chief, if this is the case, why don't you report it to the authorities?"
"What's the use of reporting it!" The young man exclaimed, but was silenced by a glare from the village chief. After a moment of silence, the village chief spoke, "Distinguished guest… this is our village's tribulation. You saved us, making you our benefactor. Knowing too much would be detrimental to you…"
"Village chief," Mo Chuan bent down and said, "Tell me. Consider it venting your grievances."
The village chief hesitated for a long time, and seemed to age significantly. Finally, he looked at the rising smoke from the cooking fires outside and said, "Before, our village's primary school teacher also wanted to report it. But he couldn't even leave the village at first. Later, someone secretly helped him get out. I don't know if he met any officials, but afterwards, his wife and children were all taken away, and their house was burned to the ground…"
"What about the grain you grew yourselves?"
"It was taken as tax," the village chief replied. "This year, they took seventy percent of our grain all at once. Plus, some crops were frostbitten due to the rapid onset of cold. The actual amount of grain harvested was more than seventy percent. Our village is relatively fortunate; we only starved for three days. I remember some villages likely starved for four or five days already…"
"Why weren't you allowed to leave?"
"Who knows? Those Cui family lackeys insert rice and guard the city gates every week. Our village is basically only allowed entry, not exit. The reason you saw everyone watching you when you entered is because we haven't seen outsiders in a long time…" the young man grumbled. This time, the village chief did not stop him, as if intending to use the young man's words to fully reveal the situation to Mo Chuan.
"What's the grain price here now? Is it very expensive?" Mo Chuan said. "We just arrived here, we haven't even entered the inner city yet."
"I don't know about other places! But the grain prices in Yueyang City have definitely been driven up by those Cui family curs! We can't afford a stone of grain even with the entire village's savings now!"
Increased taxes, suppressed prices, hoarding grain, manipulating grain, inflating prices.
Although the village chief and the young man had not revealed the entire story, Mo Chuan had already grasped the Cui family's likely methods of handling this situation.
But in this scenario, the Cui family had only two outcomes: either they would be investigated once Mo Chuan arrived, bribed by him, or eliminated by him; or Mo Chuan would not discover anything and proceed to make money with the grain they held.
Where would they make money?
The answer was simple: to the east of Jingzhou was the warring Southeast Alliance. Even though the Southeast Alliance was the wealthiest of the various factions, no one complained about having too little grain during wartime.
As Mo Chuan rapidly deduced the outcome, a commotion suddenly erupted from outside: "What are you doing! Get out of the way!"