Chapter 123: Arranging the Transfer

Moreover, Wei Ruo worried that the rain would intensify and the temperature would continue to drop.

“All right, Miss, I have no problem. Wherever you go, I will go!” Xiumei replied without hesitation.

“And the batch of charcoal I purchased earlier in Huzhou Prefecture—I remember that besides coal and the higher-quality silver bone charcoal, there was also a batch of inferior black charcoal acquired at a low price.”

Coal is suitable for heating stoves and boilers, but in southern homes, wood charcoal is generally used for daily warmth. Both silver bone charcoal and black charcoal are types of wood charcoal, but they differ in the amount of smoke produced when burned, and their prices vary significantly. Silver bone charcoal is typically used by wealthy families, while most ordinary households use black charcoal.

“Yes,” Xiumei responded.

“Later, send a message to the wet nurse to set aside that portion of the wood charcoal. I intend to distribute this batch of charcoal for free to those poor families in need. When we purchased it, it didn’t cost much, but given the current situation, even this inferior charcoal is unaffordable for many.”

“Miss, I heard that madam is urgently buying charcoal. The cold wave arrived early this year, and the household, like many others, hasn’t had time to stock up.”

“Let them be. No matter what, the Wei family is still among the better-off in Xingshan County. For us, life is just a little harder, money is a bit tight, but for many common folk, this is a matter of life and death,” Wei Ruo said firmly.

After a brief preparation, Wei Ruo and Xiumei set out.

Before leaving, Xiumei helped Wei Ruo put on several layers of clothing. Fortunately, the clothes they brought back from the Mo family estate were thick and warm, though simple in style.

Wei Ruo arrived at the county magistrate’s office. Because of the matters in the southern part of the city, most of the clerks there recognized Wei Ruo and invited her in, promptly informing Magistrate Qian.

Magistrate Qian had been very busy these days, but upon hearing it was Wei Ruo requesting an audience, he put aside his work to see her.

“What brings young Miss Wei here today?” Magistrate Qian said without preamble, cutting straight to the point.

It was clear that Wei Ruo wouldn’t have braved such heavy rain for mere idle chatter.

“It concerns the settlers in the southern fields. They live beside their farmland in crude grass and thatch huts which leak terribly and are vulnerable to flooding or collapse. I hope you, Magistrate Qian, can arrange for officials to relocate them to safer places as soon as possible,” Wei Ruo explained.

Magistrate Qian suddenly slapped his forehead. “How could I have forgotten about them!”

He had been overwhelmed by a series of problems recently—rising lake waters, collapsed bridges, and countless other issues—and had momentarily overlooked this group of people in the south.

Lives were at stake!

“I will immediately dispatch people to move them to the government office. There is a warehouse here that can shelter some of them!”

Magistrate Qian called over his assistant and instructed him to lead the relocation effort without delay.

“I will go with them,” Wei Ruo said.

“Miss Wei, that’s not advisable. The southern area is muddy after days of rain, and with such heavy rainfall and the cold weather, you might catch a chill,” Magistrate Qian cautioned.

“I’m fine. I’m dressed warmly—much better off than those people in the south. Please let me go. I worry they won’t leave because they’re afraid for the young wheat seedlings. I can persuade them more effectively,” Wei Ruo reasoned.

That made sense.

“Very well. I will have the clerks escort you to ensure your safety,” Magistrate Qian said, then instructed the accompanying officers to protect Wei Ruo at all costs.

Wei Ruo was someone even the Seventh Prince valued highly; he dared not let anything happen to her under his watch.

Upon arriving in the southern fields by carriage, Chief Clerk Chen asked Wei Ruo to stay inside while he went ahead to persuade the villagers to leave.

But Wei Ruo refused. She stepped down from the carriage, donned a simple raincoat like the villagers’, and headed toward their homes.

“Chief Clerk, please look after me first. We must hurry to relocate everyone. It will be much harder once night falls. I fear the rain will intensify tonight, and the temperature will drop further,” Wei Ruo urged.

Hearing this, the chief clerk dared not delay and quickly led the officers into action.

Apart from the main government road, the paths in the south were recently cleared trails, which had become a quagmire after the rain.

The first home Wei Ruo entered was a bamboo hut constructed from wild bamboo. The room was extremely simple—immediately to the left of the entrance was a bamboo bed.

Only the roof directly above the bed had been reinforced to prevent leaks; everywhere else dripped with rain, the sound of water falling incessant.

Inside, three generations of a family—grandfather, grandmother, and child—huddled tightly together on the bed, wrapped in a thin, stiff quilt. The two elders shielded the child in the middle.

At that moment, Wei Ruo regretted not coming sooner. She should have arrived as soon as the rains began.

At first, she hadn’t known the downpour would be so heavy and cause such devastation.

From the original owner’s memories, she only knew that winter came early that year and that there had been a rainstorm, but she had no idea how the poorest families endured it.

The original owner had been too focused on quarrelling with family to pay attention to the rain or its consequences, so those details remained unknown.

Wei Ruo told the three, “Come with me. Magistrate Qian has arranged a temporary shelter where you can stay dry and safe.”

The old man shook his head. “No, I must stay to watch over our crops. What if the rain floods the seedlings?”

“Don’t worry. Even if this batch is ruined, I can get you a new supply to plant,” Wei Ruo assured him.

“But if we plant again now, it will be too late. The timing will be off,” the old man replied.

“You can trust me. I will find you late-season wheat seeds and help you improve your planting methods to ensure a good harvest,” Wei Ruo promised.

The old man regarded her with some hesitation.

Wei Ruo continued, “Don’t you believe in what I can do? You saw the rice you planted in your field—didn’t it come later than others but yield more?”

“If you come with us now, even if you don’t think about yourself, think of your wife and your little grandson. What good will a bountiful harvest do if you all suffer from cold and hardship?”

Her words struck a chord.

The old man hurried down from the bed, took his wife’s hand, and lifted his grandson.

They put on the straw sandals lying on the ground—the floor was soaked, their feet practically submerged in icy water.

Wei Ruo and Xiumei stepped forward to help carry the child and support the old woman.

After handing the family over to the officers, they hurried on to the next household without pause.