"That’s far enough."
Yang Ge led a group of men in blue to the Vegetable Market," he said.
The men in blue, as if they had been granted amnesty, dropped the handcart and were about to flee.
"Come back!"
Yang Ge stopped the men in blue and quickly unloaded the corn from the handcart himself. "Push the cart back, we will need it next time."
The men in blue watched as he effortlessly grabbed each sack and threw it three to four meters away; they all felt tingling on their scalps, not daring to let out a peep.
Those were storage bags that could hold up to 125 kilograms of grain each!
If such strength were used on a person...
The men in blue were so frightened that they stood still, daring not to move.
Yang Ge didn’t boss them around but unloaded the bags of corn himself, tossing them as if dropping dumplings into a pot.
In a matter of a couple of minutes, he had unloaded over 3,800 kilograms of corn, then dusted off his hands. "Alright, you can go back now. It’s dark and slippery, be careful on your way."
After hearing this, the men in blue actually felt... this man was pretty decent!
Once the men in blue had left with the handcart, Yang Ge put down his willow-blade knife and dragged out the cooking pot, firewood, stove, and other items he had prepared in a dark alley. He rolled up his sleeves and indifferently started a fire in the cold, desolate street to cook the corn porridge.
It wasn’t long before dawn arrived.
The residents near the Vegetable Market got up and smelled the aroma of corn in the air.
The burning sensation of hunger drove them out of their homes, staggering toward the source of the scent...
They didn’t even know why they went there; they knew in their hearts that someone else’s cooking was their own business. Could they really expect a bowl to be shared?
But the starving mind is stiff; all thoughts give way to the idea of "filling the stomach."
A newbie’s pamphlet once said: Are disaster victims still human? People on the verge of starvation aren’t humans anymore; they are beasts, as long as they survive, even bran fed to livestock is good, grass roots, bark, soil, everything is edible!
In a sense, that was correct.
Soon, a large crowd with green brows and eyes gathered in front of Yang Ge’s big pot, all drooling over the bubbling corn in the pots.
But no one dared to step forward.
Because in front of the pots, there was a dazzling knife placed.
And behind the pots, there stood a man wearing a mask.
This fellow didn’t look like a good person at all!
Yang Ge remained silent until the corn porridge was cooked; then he dug up a wooden board from the snow and set it up nearby.
The board was covered with dense, crooked small characters. Among the onlooking crowd, those who could read stepped forward and recited: "Firewood for porridge."
"Two units of firewood for two units of porridge, one person limited to two bowls."
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"Those who are strong do not exchange."
"Those with even slight resources do not exchange."
"Those who disturb the order do not exchange."
"Government Officials do not exchange."
"Those who practice martial arts do not exchange."
"Looking to hire twenty cooks of porridge, three kilograms of corn per person per day, limited to the elderly, weak, women, and children."
"Those who wish to exchange porridge, please line up."
"Hand over firewood, take porridge."
It wasn’t just one person who could read; there was more than one person reciting from the board.
The crowd watching instantly began to boil over.
Seeing this, Yang Ge silently stepped forward and raised his leg, hooking the willow-leaf saber into the air. The handle of the saber landed accurately in Yang Ge’s palm.
Yang Ge gripped the long saber and without turning his head, chopped down at a tree stump several feet away that was thicker than a human waist.
"Bang."
A flash of snow-like light, and the tree stump suddenly exploded, wood chips flying everywhere.
The boiling crowd, like a boiling pot into which a large basin of cold water had been poured, suddenly calmed down.
Yang Ge, holding the saber, patted the plank and then placed the saber back in front of two large iron pots before turning to continue his work.
The crowd paused for a few breaths before finally reacting.
Some people turned and ran towards their homes, shouting loudly as they ran: "Wife, wife, quickly bring our firewood, a benevolent gentleman is offering porridge... bring the bucket and carrying pole too!"
Some approached timidly asking for jobs to cook porridge. Yang Ge picked those with multiple patches on their clothes and those who looked unwell and let them start immediately, freeing himself from the role of cook.
In less than an hour, the people of Luting County who had heard the news lined up outside the Vegetable Market, forming a queue so long it was out of sight. Everyone held large pieces of firewood, stood on tiptoes to try and see the end of the line, the sound of them swallowing their saliva was like the croaking of frogs on a summer night...
Those with good eyesight, seeing that the two large iron pots were overwhelmed, brought their own iron pots over. Yang Ge saw this and said little, just stuffing some millet into their embrace with empty sacks.
Thus, the two large iron pots multiplied like offspring, from two to four, from four to eight, from eight to sixteen, sixteen to thirty-two.
Even the water tank placed nearby for water supply seemed to increase unconsciously.
The porridge cooks were overwhelmed. People rolled up their sleeves to help without asking for wages.
The firewood pile grew taller and taller, with people continually coming forward to help organize it, endlessly supplying every stove.
As for the water in the water tanks, there was never a shortage. Many people carried water with poles and stood by the tanks. Whenever a little water was low, they would add a bit more.
There were no disruptions as Yang Ge had anticipated...
The strong men who approached the queue didn’t last long before leaving, covering their faces under the odd stares of those around them.
And as for the landlords pretending to be poor to take advantage of the situation, don’t even think about it. How large is Luting County? Who doesn’t know who?
Although the Government Official had not received a report from Yongtai, they had sent officials to check, but those officials hadn’t even reached the Vegetable Market before being blocked by the queueing locals, without even a glimpse of Yang Ge.
Perhaps some people weren’t smart enough.
But with so many people together, how foolish could they be?
Yang Ge, dressed in nighttime clothes and a nine-cylinder mask, they couldn’t guess Yang Ge didn’t want others to know his identity or suspect the questionable origin of his food supplies.
"It’s surely that mountain king, robbing the rich to help the poor!"
The people of Luting County murmured in their hearts.
But they didn’t care!
No matter the identity of the man giving out the porridge, no matter whether the source of the food was legitimate… he was a benefactor to half of Luting County!
And after freeing himself from the role of cooking porridge, Yang Ge didn’t hurry to leave but instead began practicing the Snow Drifting Skill on the snowy ground nearby.
He knew the three major grain merchants would definitely send people mixed among the porridge-receiving locals to investigate.
But he had already made his stance clear: I only ensure the people of Luting County do not starve, not that they are fully fed, nor can I affect the overall trend of grain prices.
If you cannot tolerate even this…
Then come!
I am right here waiting for you!
This might not be a smart way to go about it.
But Yang Ge… he could only do so much.