"Old Ma, what's going on?" Fang Er asked the old man Ma.
"Young master, these are refugees from the nearby villages. They heard from someone that we are not experiencing famine here, so they've all come seeking food. But as you can see, there are too many people. We don't even know how the harvest will be yet, and whether more people will come seeking help. I really don't dare to make this decision. Since you're here, young master, what should we do with these people?" Old Ma got down from the stone roller and bowed to Fang Er to explain.
After listening to Old Ma, Fang Er shifted his gaze to the crowd. The people were all sallow and thin. When a few children saw Fang Er looking at them, they quickly hid behind the adults. An elderly woman emerged from the crowd and knelt before Fang Er.
"My dear young master, please be merciful and save these children. We can no longer survive. The land has cracked, all the crops have died, and we have no leftover grain. These children haven't eaten for days. We beg you to show compassion and give us some food." The old woman said, crying as she knelt on the ground.
"Quickly, get up and speak. Where did you come from, and how did you know there was grain here?" Fang Er stepped forward to help the old woman up.
"Replying to the young master, we are from Zhangjiazhuang, five li to the south. A few days ago, we heard that Fangjiazhuang was not affected by the drought, and that the villagers were living well, eating meat at every meal. That's why we all came here, just hoping for a bowl of thin porridge to fill our stomachs. We beg the young master to show mercy." Before Fang Er could help her up, the old woman kowtowed. As her head hit the ground, all the other refugees also knelt down and kowtowed to Fang Er.
"We beg the young master to show mercy!"
"Young master, please give the children something to eat!"
"Young master, I am willing to sell myself as a slave, just to save my child's life!" The noisy pleas and cries made Fang Er feel immensely sorrowful.
"Everyone get up. Follow me into the village. Eat something first to fill your bellies." Fang Er said, then picked up a little girl from the ground and walked towards the village.
"Hurry up and get up! The young master said you can come into the village to eat. Hurry up and follow." Old Ma said to everyone still kneeling on the ground.
"Thank you, young master, for your kindness!" Upon hearing this, these people kowtowed to Fang Er again before getting up and following. Old Ma watched this scene, his feelings unreadable, but he understood that without Fang Er's arrival, he might be in the same situation as these people, fleeing with his family, just hoping to survive.
In front of the Fang Mansion, Fang Er called Hua Niang over. The assistant chefs at the restaurant had all grown, so Hua Niang no longer needed to oversee them and stayed in Fangjiazhuang to become Fang Er's dedicated cook.
"Hua Niang, these people are refugees. Cook a pot of porridge and some eggs for them later and distribute them. Be mindful, they've been starving for days. Don't let them eat too much, as it can cause problems."
"I understand, young master. You are truly kind. If it were the previous Master Ma, he wouldn't care about the lives of these people." Hua Niang looked at the little girl Fang Er was holding, her eyes welling up with tears. "It's so pitiful. The little girl is only seven or eight years old, as thin as a monkey, her face dirty, her hair dry and messy like a pile of weeds. What she's wearing isn't clothes, but a piece of torn cloth picked up from somewhere, just casually wrapped around her. You can see her raised shoulder blades through the fabric."
"Alright, go and prepare it quickly. Call the women from the village to help. Also, arrange for some people to help them clean up. Distribute the unused clothes from the village to them. They can come to the mansion later to pay for them, consider the clothes as bought by me."
"Yes! I'll go now." Hua Niang nodded heavily. Soon, three large pots were set up in front of the Fang Mansion. Two pots contained thin porridge, and the other contained eggs. It wasn't that Fang Er was stingy. He had heard that starving people, once they found food, could die from overeating if their intake wasn't controlled. Moreover, a weak stomach couldn't handle hard food; it could only consume liquids. Their bodies would need to recover slowly. It was like a patient who had undergone surgery, who could only consume liquids in the short term because surgery had depleted their vital energy and caused imbalance. If they ate rich food, their bodies wouldn't be able to absorb it and would instead develop other problems.
The group of refugees, under the arrangement of Old Ma and other villagers, sat by the entrance of the Fang Mansion, staring intently at the three large pots. As time passed, the water in the pots boiled, and the millet tumbled around in the pot, releasing a sweet aroma. A few thin children bravely walked to the pots from the crowd, looking at the thin porridge inside, even drooling.
"Children, don't be in a hurry, it will be ready soon. This millet needs to be cooked thoroughly to taste good. Here, have an egg first." The porridge wasn't ready yet, but the eggs were already cooked. Hua Niang scooped out a few eggs from the pot and handed them to these children. The little children, holding the eggs, ran back into the crowd without even minding the heat.
"Mom, quick, the kind aunty gave me an egg. You eat it, and you won't be hungry anymore." A small child handed an egg to the woman who was almost starving. The woman didn't take it and pushed it back: "You eat it, Bao'er. Mom isn't hungry."
"Bao'er and Mom can eat it together. Bao'er eats the egg white, and Mom eats the yolk, okay? Bao'er doesn't like the yolk." Bao'er, enduring the heat, slowly peeled the egg, took out the yolk, and handed it to the woman. The saying that children from poor families mature early had its reasons. They had experienced the hardships of life from a young age, and the pressure to survive forced them to mature early. Fang Er watched the mother and son, his heart aching. Having transmigrated, he had never witnessed such a scene. "Such sensible children, they are truly heartbreaking."
"Young master, the porridge is ready." Hua Niang scooped a spoonful of millet porridge from the pot and looked at it. The millet had already boiled open completely.
"Everyone get up and line up. One bowl of porridge and one egg per person. Children and women first." Fang Er said to the crowd. Hearing Fang Er's words, the people on the ground immediately got up. The children went to the front, followed by the women. The young and strong men behind them consciously let the elderly go to the front.
"Hold your bowls. Everyone will get one. If it's not enough, come back for more. There's plenty in the pot." Hua Niang ladled out the porridge, while another woman distributed the eggs. Those who received the food found an empty spot on the ground and began to eat. Even though they were so hot they kept sticking out their tongues, they were reluctant to spit out the porridge in their mouths, their faces filled with satisfied smiles.