Chapter 120: Disaster Victims Arrive

Chapter 120: The Disaster Victims Arrive

The snow fell for another three straight days before finally pausing for half a day.

Gu Chaoning still went out for his usual daily walk. As the snow kept piling up, you could hardly spot anyone selling grain in town anymore.

Fewer and fewer people walked the streets, and sometimes the only folks you'd see were the constables on their usual patrols.

By the fifth day, the snow was still coming down, but it was slow and light.

The town office started getting folks together to shovel the snow, and the gloomy mood in Dukou Town finally perked up a little.

That day, the Gu family's food shop had its busiest day since the snow started. The government also bought twenty of Gu Wen's wooden spatulas, and Gu Wen threw in another twenty for free.

By the sixth day, after just one night, the streets folks had spent a whole day clearing were white again.

On the seventh day, a messenger showed up at Gu Chaoning's place.

"Hey, Gu Juren! Got a letter for you!"

The messenger hollered loud enough for everyone inside to hear, shoved the letter into the door crack, then ducked his head and hurried off.

In this god-awful weather, he wouldn't have bothered delivering it at all if the sender hadn't paid extra and it wasn't for a juren's house.

Zhimo opened the door, and the letter stuck in the crack fluttered to the ground. Zhimo picked it up and immediately brought it to Gu Chaoning.

The letter was from Gu Rong.

The letter started off asking how the Gu family was doing, then said he'd wanted to come back, but with the snow so bad, no driver would take his money, so he had to ask Gu Chaoning and Gu Wen to look after his place.

Gu Chaoning already knew that even without Gu Rong saying it.

In his past life, Gu Rong was also away, but the lizheng's family made it through the snow disaster just fine.

Gu Rong clearly trusted Gu Chaoning, and at the end of the letter, he specifically told him not to bother writing back.

In this weather, sending letters was just a waste of money.

That night, the snow finally stopped for a bit. Just as everyone let out a sigh of relief, the next morning, the snow came right back like it had promised.

This time, it snowed nonstop for ten whole days, with only a rare hour or two of break here and there.

The sky looked like it had a hole poked through it—dark and gray day and night, with snowflakes endlessly drifting down.

Those light, pretty white snowflakes, piling up together, felt like they were trying to crush people—falling and falling and falling without end.

Over those days, news kept trickling in—some family in some village had their house cave in under the snow while they slept, and they didn't make it out.

With all that news coming in, Dukou Town was packed with people but as quiet as a ghost town.

In between, when the snow let up a bit, the town office organized a few more rounds of shoveling.

But the snow just wouldn't quit—spots they'd just cleared were white again in no time, and the snow piles were getting taller than the houses.

The mood in town got heavier by the day, and even when folks were shoveling, they stayed quiet and barely said a word.

That heavy mood lasted until around New Year, when some rich family in town set up a stall at the town entrance and handed out free sweet soup with eggs, brown sugar, red dates, and peanuts. That finally cheered things up a little.

Chen Youyan, who'd been stuck at home for days, dragged Gu Wen out to buy New Year stuff, leaving the three kids to watch the house.

Gu Chaoning couldn't go out, so he shoveled snow with Zhimo.

A couple days earlier, news had spread through Dukou Town like the never-ending snow—some family's house had a corner cave in, a brick-and-tile place crushed by the snow.

It wasn't until the town office stepped in and said that house was already falling apart anyway that folks calmed down a bit.

Even so, everyone got a lot more serious about shoveling snow.

Before he left, Gu Wen kept telling Gu Chaoning to make sure he shoveled the snow. So the second his dad was out the door, he grabbed the wooden shovel.

They propped a long ladder against the eaves, with Guan Qi and Tingfeng holding it steady on both sides. Zhimo stood on the fourth rung, holding up a long wooden shovel to the roof.

This wooden shovel had been improved by Gu Wen—the handle was very long, and the blade part was more like a sickle than a shovel.

The narrow edge faced out, slicing into the thick snow at the eaves like cutting tofu, and chunks of snow slid off and thumped to the ground one after another.

Then Gu Chaoning, Yin Hongxue, and Gu Muan shoveled the fallen snow out of the way.

That night, they had hot pot soup, and the steaming broth chased the chill away. Gu Wen had to get up in the middle of the night to shovel snow, so he skipped the booze and just had two bowls of soup to make up for it.

This New Year, neither side made a big deal of things. Gu Daniu and Wang Xiuxiu stayed in the village, and Gu Wen, Chen Youyan, and the three kids stayed in town.

After New Year, word got around town that the neighboring county was in bad shape, and refugees were already on their way here.

Hearing that, someone was stunned: "Huh? Why aren't they heading to the county seat? Why come to our little town?"

Folks in Dukou Town had lived there forever and knew the town was actually pretty well-off, but they didn't really get how much.

The guy sighed: "What else? We're closer! If everyone went to the county seat—with this snow, that place is so far—could the magistrate even handle it? There's always some who skip the county seat and head somewhere else."

That made sense. The folks nearby nodded and sighed too.

Gu Chaoning listened nearby, his face giving nothing away.

The refugees showed up about seven or eight days later than they had in his past life.

Seems the rice-fish farming and bamboo tube waterwheel weren't a waste after all—this time, folks in Chuanyang Prefecture had a bit more grain saved up than in his past life.

But even that extra bit was just a drop in the bucket.

Five days after that news spread, Gu Chaoning went out again and saw a lot of people rushing around, heads down, silent or looking tense.

Gu Chaoning thought of something, his face changing a little as he hurried with Zhimo toward the city gate.

The city gate was a mess. A bunch of people, bundled up in layers and layers of clothes, faces pale and eyes blank, were out there wailing pitifully.

"Sir, please, let us in! We've got money—we just want to buy some grain and get a bowl of hot porridge."

Nobody dared to believe that.

But the constables were just regular folks too. Some couldn't stand to watch and turned their heads away.

Without the town magistrate's say-so, not a single refugee could be let through.

Seeing the constables weren't budging, someone started crying pitifully: "Sir, please! My boy's only four—he caught a cold the day before yesterday and his fever still won't break. Sir, please, please..."

Gu Chaoning followed the crying man's gaze down to his arms. A kid wrapped up tight, only a red little face showing, lay limp against the man's chest, not moving or reacting.

Zhimo frowned, couldn't stand to look, and quickly looked away.

The snow seemed to fall even heavier, landing on the little boy's cheeks and eyelashes.

If not for the faint trembling of his lashes, he might have appeared lifeless.

The young man's weeping drew tears from the others as well.

The blizzard had crushed their homes, burying most of their grain, silver, and clothing beneath the snow. Some had lost family members, who were buried along with their collapsed homes under the snow.

Those who survived by luck had either fallen ill with colds, passed away in agony, or never woke up again.

The remaining survivors went to the local towns, but conditions there were equally dire. The rich households had already fled, leaving them unable to buy food or find shelter, with no choice but to abandon their homes and wander elsewhere.

At the memory of all they had endured on the road, everyone broke down in tears.

The weather was so cold that tears froze solid on their cheeks almost as soon as they spilled from their eyes.

Gu Chaoning quickly turned and headed toward the government office, but halfway there he ran into Zheng Yiyang, who had received word and was rushing toward the city gate.

Without even stopping for small talk, they quickly filled each other in on what they knew.

"There are probably thirty-odd refugees outside the town. I figure this is the nearest group to Dukou Town, likely from the poorer villages nearby."

Even with three years of rice-fish farming and bamboo tube waterwheels, which had boosted yields in both paddy and dry fields, some villages were just in bad locations.

Take Dashi Village, for example—it had almost no farmland at all, and its neighbor Xiaoshi Village had only dry fields, no paddy fields.

Dashi and Xiaoshi weren't the only ones like this.

Other villages had both paddy and dry fields, but the land was poor. Even with rice-fish farming and bamboo tube waterwheels, it barely helped.

Three years just wasn't enough time.

Zheng Yiyang chimed in: "I've already contacted the wealthy households in town. Eight families have agreed to donate grain, each giving what they can. That should be enough for this first group. I'll also ask the county to release official grain."

Actually, the Dukou Town government did have reserve grain, but without the county magistrate's say-so, no one dared open the granaries.

"And doctors—some folks caught colds on the road and need medicine."

Medicine wasn't cheap, especially in this weather. It wasn't just the refugees getting sick—even Dukou Town's own people were coming down with colds left and right.

Zheng Yiyang looked troubled: "I can find doctors—we can rotate them so one comes each day—but the herbs can't just come out of their own pockets."

"Buy them—just the basic herbs. I'll kick things off by donating some silver myself. Then we can talk to the scholars from well-off families—if someone takes the lead, others will chip in to save face."

But that still wouldn't cut it.

"Also, have sister-in-law organize a sewing circle. Give a heads-up to a few of the more cooperative rich families beforehand, and have them patch up and donate old quilts, blankets, and clothes they don't use anymore."

"Don't hand anything out for free. Have the constables bring the refugees into town to clear snow from the streets, or have them chop wood and build shelters outside town for themselves. You decide how many—just don't let them sit around doing nothing. Moving around will also keep them warm."

No matter who you are, idle people cause trouble.

The refugees were already feeling down. Right now their lives were at risk, but once their basic needs for food and shelter were met, there was no telling they wouldn't cause trouble, making it even harder for the officials to manage things.

On the flip side, letting them work in town would make the townspeople less resistant, and keep the refugees close to Dukou Town, so they wouldn't get desperate enough to try their luck at nearby villages.

Zheng Yiyang listened closely, giving orders as he kept walking.

They just had to hold out until the imperial court sent help, and then everything would be fine.