Transmigrated into a female county magistrate during a famine, leading her country to prosperity

This frightened the three people present. The village head's wife couldn't help but grab his arm and said, "What's the matter? Speak up!"

The head of the village still didn't speak. After a long while, he said in a low voice, "Wait a moment. Let me finish reading it."

They had agreed to wait until he finished looking at it and tell him, but under the gazes of the three people, Qiao Li was turning the piece of linen over and over again countless times, until the setting sun gradually disappeared and the night wind became colder and colder.

The headman's wife was also frightened by his reaction and did not dare to urge him rashly.

She looked up at the sky which was getting darker and gritted her teeth before taking out the oil lamp which she had treasured for several years from home.

The oil lamp was almost empty. As she lit the wick, she felt a pain in her heart. "I'm afraid it will burn out after today's burning..."

Shuanzi's mother felt more and more guilty and twirled the corner of her clothes with her fingers.

But she could also tell from Qiao Lizheng's expression that this piece of linen was probably really recorded with some important event.

Maybe she was right this time?

Night insects began to chirp and the oil lamp flickered. The headman felt distressed and finally he was willing to put the sackcloth down and said "OK" several times.

The village head's wife felt something was wrong when she heard this, so she stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder and asked, "Why did you cry? Is there a touching story in this book?"

This scene frightened Shuanzi and his wife, especially his mother, who asked hurriedly, "Village head, what is this..."

She pointed at the sackcloth. “Can you tell us about it?”

Several people looked at him with curiosity and a little trepidation. The head of the village raised his head, and the tears in the corners of his eyes flickered in the light. For a moment, it was hard to tell whether the tears were brighter or the oil lamp that he was reluctant to use was brighter.

He first said: "We, we eat this rice, it comes from Liuyang Prefecture, that county is called, called Tong'an County!"

After he said that, I don’t know what string in his heart was touched, but he lay down and started crying loudly.

"Wow, woooo, woooo - Tong'an County! Tong'an Tong'an! What a good meaning!" He buried his face in his arms, his voice muffled and buzzing.

The wife of the head of the village was frightened and pushed him up. "What's wrong with Tongan County? Didn't you say that your ancestors were from Changnan Prefecture? Are you lying to me? What is your relationship with Liuyang Prefecture and Tongan County?"

Qiao Li was raising his head again, his face was even more translucent than before, even his mouth was covered with snot.

The headman's wife let her go in disgust, gritted her teeth and whispered, "Shuanzi and the others are still here, don't cry and embarrass me."

Perhaps this sentence evoked Qiao Li's bad memories. He stopped crying and looked up at Shuanzi's mother.

"Shuanzi's mother, it's okay! Fortunately you brought it!" His voice was still a little hoarse, but it was not difficult to hear the fear in it.

"This linen is a letter from people in Tongan County! The handprints on it are all from people in Tongan County! The rice we eat recently is not given by the court, nor by officials in Beijing, but by Tongan County! Tongan County, which was poorer than us before, gave it to us by scraping together money!"

"A letter from the people of Tong'an County?" The three people present were puzzled and asked in unison, "Why are they writing to us?"

They didn't understand that if they were forced to donate grain by the county, they would definitely be unwilling to do so.

If they were to write...

That must mean that the other party must remember to return the food.

What else? The world is not very good, how much surplus food do ordinary people have? They have to scrape it out of their own teeth.

Qiao Lizheng's tears were still falling. He raised his sleeve to wipe them away and said, "It's hard to explain in a few words. Let me read it to you."

"That's great." The headman's wife quickly sat down.

"Hello, fellow countrymen in the east. I am Huang Hu, a farmer from Tong'an County, Liuyang Prefecture..."

Qiao Li was trying hard to hold back his tears and reading the letter carefully.

The night was like a huge piece of black silk, covering the entire courtyard. There was a special feeling in Qiao Lizheng's voice, as if he was not the reader of the letter, but the writer.

Every time he spoke a word, a cloud of white mist would come out of his mouth and disappear in an instant.

"...Mrs. Shen donated all her own grain and did not ask us to donate, saying that she represented every citizen of Tongan County..."

"The rice that Lord Shen has planted with us can produce up to 1,000 kilograms per mu. In the future, you can also plant this rice with us and never go hungry again..."

"Our Great Zhou's emperor and officials are all very good. Please trust them."

Faith is over.

No one spoke.

The headman's wife sniffed in a daze, looking up at the dark night with dull eyes.

Shuanzi's wife covered her face and cried, with a few broken sounds coming from her throat.

Shuanzi clenched his fists without realizing it, and maintained that posture for a long time.

At this time, even the sound of falling leaves was particularly obvious in the yard.

"What are you doing..." The voice of the village head's wife was even hoarser than that of Village Head Qiao. She still looked up. Shuanzi's wife turned her head and saw a tear sliding down the corner of her eye.

That tear was different from the previous white mist. It seemed to be fleeting, but it still left a faint tear mark.

Shuanzi's mother finally couldn't hold it back any longer and burst into tears, "They, they actually care about us so much. How long will it take to save all this food? Will they starve too?"

Shuanzi's father came back to his senses, put his arm around her shoulders and said, "Didn't Huang Hu say that Lord Shen has planted a thousand kilograms of grain per mu for them? They won't starve."

He called "Huang Hu" very smoothly, as if Huang Hu was not a stranger thousands of miles away, but his good brother since childhood.

Shuanzi's mother buried her head in his arms, raised her hand and gently beat his chest, crying: "You still say it's just a piece of rag, what kind of rag! There is no such thing as a thousand kilograms of grain per mu, they are just deceiving us and want us to feel at ease."

Village chief Qiao and his wife also felt so.

If there really was grain that could produce 1,000 kilograms per mu in this world, so many people wouldn't have starved to death in Jimu Village.

"They just want us to eat in peace..."

It’s no wonder that they didn’t know the news from Tongan County. Changnan Prefecture had suffered a disaster before, and not only was the news blocked, but when there was no food to eat, who would care about other people’s news?

Shuanzi's father was unable to refute. After being stunned for a long time, he murmured: "The officials of the Great Zhou are all very good..."

Perhaps he shouldn't have brought up this sentence at this tender moment.

Huang Hu asked them to believe, and he should actually believe it.

Huang Hu is a very good person, and the Lord Shen they call him is even better.

But what about other officials? Who dares to say that they can be even one-tenth as good as Lord Shen?