Back to the 60s: The Struggle Career of a Charmed Wife
Chapter 117 - 0117: Opening Sources of Income and Reducing Expenditure 1_1

Chapter 117: Chapter 0117: Opening Sources of Income and Reducing Expenditure 1_1

With the Sanxitang calligraphy post, Feng Qingxue was more motivated to practice her writing.

Unconsciously, the Little New Year arrived.

Little New Year is on the twenty-third of the twelfth lunar month, which is supposed to be the day to pay homage to the Kitchen God.

However, due to natural disasters, the land of the Caohu brigade was inherently barren. The crops in the second half of the year had nearly halved, and after paying the public grain, little was left. The grain distributed to each family was even less, leaving almost no household adequately fed. Many people fled from the famine, and although some returned for the New Year, they didn’t bring much grain back, so the entire Caohu brigade had no festive atmosphere.

Feng Qingxue gave her younger sister some kitchen sugar to eat and went out, only to see a desolate scene.

Many villagers, swelling all over, were leaning against their doorsteps bathing in the sun—each one as pale as death, listlessly with a pair of dull eyes that lacked any spark, as if waiting for death.

A few emaciated children stuffed their mouths with snow mixed with mud from the ground out of sheer hunger, shivering from the cold.

Among the people basking in the sun together, two were discussing how human flesh could cure their swelling.

Distressed and terrified, Feng Qingxue couldn’t help but go looking for Feng Shuanzhu.

"Uncle Feng, could you lend me the mule cart? I’m thinking of approaching my fiancé’s comrades to get some grain, coarse grain, if nothing else—just so our brigade can survive this winter. As long as no one does not die from hunger by the end of the year, what do you think?"

Why not?

As the brigade’s secretary, he would be held responsible for any deaths from starvation. He was so worried that he couldn’t sleep at night.

These were all people he watched growing up. How could he let them starve?

There were hundreds of households in the Caohu brigade, and nearly forty were on the brink of disaster, with not a single grain left at home. Where could he find food to save their lives? Who didn’t know the preciousness of grain?

"Good girl, on behalf of our brigade, I want to thank you in advance for those who are almost starving to death."

Feng Shuanzhu, with tears in his eyes, personally went with her to borrow the mule cart, piling the burlap bags and bamboo baskets she needed onto the truck.

Feng Qingxue asked Ma Guiying, Feng Shuanzhu’s wife, to look after her younger sister. She drove the cart around in a big circle. Fortunately, she had learned to drive from Lu Jiang. She made good use of the cart and went to the junk station in the city and county. She collected quite a few copper, wood, paper, and pens and stealthily returned to the Caohu brigade at dusk. By then, the burlap bags on the cart were filled with grain, and the bamboo baskets were filled with potatoes and sweet potatoes.

Although emergency aid does not eliminate poverty, she feared people would ask for more once they got a little help. More so, she worried about fostering resentment from unequal distribution. Therefore, the bags were full of coarse grains, wheat bran, corn grits, dried sweet potatoes, and residual cakes from oil pressing—such as soybean cake and peanut cake.

It might not taste good and could choke you, but it could save lives. And it was much better than the grain distributed by the Caohu brigade.

Feng Qingxue hadn’t forgotten the memory of the previous owner. The previous owner had eaten a lifesaving ration made from crop stalks, sweet potato leaves, etc., cut into pieces. These were all fought over like cherished treasures by livestock and people alike, even though they were challenging to swallow down.

Seeing a cart full of grain, Feng Shuanzhu’s eyes turned red.

"Child, you truly went to a lot of trouble for this. These grains could save so many lives!"

Feng Qingxue smiled faintly, "Uncle Feng, most of these are our fellow villagers—mostly from the Feng family. Who could stand by and not save them? While Ajiang’s comrades may have some ability, they could only get coarse grain, it’s impossible to get fine grain."

Feng Shuanzhu quickly said, "Enough, enough. Coarse grain is good, there’s a lot of it, and it can save many lives!"

He hesitated for a moment and, embarrassingly, said, "As for the money for the grain, let it go through formal channels. Qingxue, you didn’t get only a little money, did you?"