Chapter 54

Chapter 54

"Is this the home of Madam Shali and little Tata? Are only the two of you living here now?"

If not for the gentle tone and the smile on their faces, Madam Shali truly would have slammed the door in their faces.

Everyone in the neighborhood knew their situation. Were these people asking her this to poke at fresh wounds, or did they want to clarify things before doing something to them?

But with just an old woman and a child, so poor they might not even survive this winter, what could these "high-and-mighty folk" possibly want from them?

"Yes, it's just Tata and me. May I ask what this is about?" Madam Shali nervously licked her dry lips, a fresh wave of cold creeping through her already icy hands and feet.

"Well, several people in your village mentioned your circumstances. We came to verify if what they said was true." Jie An looked at Tata, who was clinging tightly to the old woman's leg, his expression softened visibly.

The boy seemed about the same age as Chantulika. Fortunately, he was born at the right time—with their help, he should be able to grow up well.

Madam Shali paused at Jie An's words, then, following his gaze, instinctively pulled her little grandson closer behind her. "What exactly did they say about us? Our family hasn't done anything wrong. If you have questions, just ask directly. We have nothing to hide."

Their home was bare as it was—there was nothing left to conceal.

"Please don’t be nervous. We’re here to bring you warmth. According to the villagers, your household lacks able-bodied workers and is in dire straits. So, for your well-being, we’ve brought some food, cold-weather gear, and we’ll help you build a kang bed to get through the winter more comfortably."

Seeing Madam Shali’s expression soften, Jie An glanced around the sparsely furnished room before assessing the structure of the house.

Their region didn’t get heavy snowfall, so there was no worry about the house collapsing under snow.

Still, if the house was too damaged, they’d have to consider relocating them to a shelter.

But for most people, staying elsewhere was never as comfortable as their own home. Unless the house was on the verge of cracking open at any moment, they’d do their best to repair it and preserve their "home."

Though small and lacking furniture, this house for the old woman and child was solidly built, with no major damage.

So, they only needed to install the kang bed—no need to take them to the shelter.

Hearing they were here to help, Madam Shali felt her nose sting. Clutching the bag of food they handed her, her eyes brightened considerably.

"Oh, thank you. Please, come in. I don’t have much to offer, but at least have some hot water." Recently, Lis Church had emphasized water safety, and Madam Shali, knowing she and her grandson couldn’t afford to fall ill, paid close attention to such details.

Shali, though she could barely spare the fuel, took the church’s advice to "drink more hot water" to heart, treating hot water as a miraculous remedy. So, even though firewood had to be used sparingly, she always kept a pot boiling—some things just couldn’t be skimped on.

"Thank you." Jie An didn’t refuse the old woman’s kindness, though his eyes dimmed slightly when he noticed the half-empty water vat and the meager pile of kindling.

Seeing they didn’t look down on her simple offering of hot water, Shali felt even warmer inside. These were truly kind-hearted young people.

Once the location for the kang bed was decided, the work crew began digging the flue, mixing mud, and preparing the materials.

Focused only on the kang bed's construction, Shali didn’t notice her water jar being quietly refilled, load after load, or the growing stack of neatly split firewood.

"All done. For the next few days, just cure it by heating gently like this to drive out the dampness. Once it’s ready, you can use it. You can keep the old bed if you like, or if it’s in the way, ask a neighbor to chop it up for firewood."

They had other villages to visit and couldn’t leave enough firewood for the whole winter. Besides, the old bed was shoddily constructed, groaning alarmingly under weight—better to dismantle it sooner rather than later for safety. If the kang bed were usable immediately, they’d have helped chop up the old bed themselves.

Madam Shali and Tata gazed at the smooth, new kang bed, their eyes brimming with gratitude.

Jie An, the Apprentice Saint, had assured them this would keep them warm all winter. What a blessing!

Just days ago, she’d feared they wouldn’t survive. Now, it seemed the gods hadn't abandoned them after all.

While everyone was busy spreading word about these kang beds, Ning Chan wandered over to the poultry yards, frowning at the sparse numbers of chickens, ducks, and geese. Time was still too short—they hadn't built up proper flocks. With so few slaughter-ready, harvesting down feathers would be difficult.

Looking at these half-grown fowl, Ning Chan glanced at his hand again. If only his superpower could make their feathers grow faster just like it did with plants.

Forget it. Rather than obsessing over these few, it’d be better to ask those large-scale sheep farmers.

The chickens, ducks, and geese, chilled by Ning Chan’s gaze, burst into noisy squawking, and lost their appetite.

"What? Lis Church wants to buy wool? Just the wool, not the skins too?"

The nobles pondered what else could be made from wool besides felt, but unfortunately, they couldn’t think of anything specific.

That felt was stiff and prickly—aside from hanging it on walls as decoration, they wouldn’t even want it on the floor because it scratched their feet.

Though connecting it to the Church’s recent actions suggested it might be related to protection from the cold, who would want to wrap themselves in such a stiff material? Besides blocking wind, could it really keep them warm?

They couldn’t figure out other uses for wool, but they knew the Church must have some profitable use. If they were greedy, they could wait until the Church produced something, then try to obtain the method, or take advantage of the Church’s material shortage to jack up prices for profit.

But after witnessing so many miracles lately, did they dare entertain such thoughts? They’d rather offer their wealth to prove their piety and seek divine blessings!

Money could be made anytime—why scheme over the Church’s share?

Even if the Church succeeded, they could still bid for sales rights and siphon some profit.

So, upon hearing the Church wanted wool, they merely asked about its use before hurrying to gather it.

Ning Chan recalled that books recorded sheep shearing in spring and autumn. Though it was a bit late now, just making the cutoff shouldn’t be a problem.

But considering this era’s primitive livestock care, sudden changes could lead to sheep deaths. While reminding them to be cautious, Ning Chan mused—maybe it was time for mutton hotpot?

Currently, the city only sold lamb organ soup, roasted mutton, and skewers. Though demand was high, individuals couldn’t eat much by themselves or buy frequently.

Mutton hotpot was different. In winter, families could gather around the stove, chatting and eating until they were sweating, strengthening their bodies.

To promote Yangcheng’s benefits and attract more settlers, Ning Chan wasn’t worried about meat supplies elsewhere. He had nobles buy sheep from distant cities at high prices, then sell them cheaply in Yangcheng.

As compensation, Ning Chan would teach them wool processing. In return, they’d only need to give Lis Church 30% of the finished products.

Those already curious immediately counted their coins upon hearing this.

Once the sheep arrived, Ning Chan taught them wool processing and yarn-spinning methods.

Watching the nobles’ grateful expressions, Ning Chan chuckled and patted a lamb beside him.

Perfect. Without spending a cent, he’d delegated the work. They bought the sheep, handled the wool, and spun the yarn—he just provided the method and got 30%. So much effort saved.

Did Ning Chan not know how much profit his recent ideas would bring? Of course he did. But being individually wealthy was too showy and hindered societal progress. Only when collective living standards rose would more profitable opportunities emerge.

Besides, at his level, money meant little—barely useful. Whatever he wanted, people would deliver. Only development funds made him scheme to get nobles’ money.

Yet this money came in one hand and went out the other. His real income was just his monthly salary—barely got spent with Church benefits.

Archbishops and bishops ate simple meals "for asceticism," wore old clothes, and handled more duties. But Apprentice Saints were still growing kids—they needed good food, warm clothes, and strong foundations to serve the divine longer.

The knight and construction teams did physical labor—they needed good health, hence good pay and treatment.

The knights stationed in Yangcheng had no major faults. Those who caused trouble? Still "spreading the faith" elsewhere—oh, and a few died guarding the Holy Tablet recently.

Pity they missed out on these perks.