Dressed as a farmer's widow, she brought her daughter to stock up on food and reached the top

Xiuying brought the cooked mung bean soup and handed it to Wu Baixi, asking, "It's a drought now. I wonder if the court..."

She hesitated to speak, with a hint of worry on her face, staring at Wu Baixi, expecting him to give an answer.

Drought was a serious problem in this era of reliance on the weather, and Xiuying wondered if the court had any plans to address it. She bit her lip lightly, her eyes filled with worry.

"Brother Wu, with such a severe drought, life is hard for us ordinary people. I wonder if the court can come up with a good way to help us." Xiuying said as she twisted the corners of her clothes with her hands, frowning and looking anxious.

"Alas, I am just a village woman and I don't understand those big principles. But if it doesn't rain, the crops in the fields will die of drought. I really hope that the court can find a way to save the people here as soon as possible." Xiuying sighed deeply.

The reason why Futian Village has a bumper rice harvest is that they grow drought-resistant and high-yield rice. The sweet potatoes in the space are also cultivated, which is why they can have such a good harvest in the arid land. This situation does not exist in other places.

Thinking of Futian Village's good harvest despite the drought, Xiuying's face lit up with relief, and she explained, "Brother Wu, our village can have such a good harvest thanks to the river in the village and the spring in the back mountain. But even so, it can't withstand this long drought."

She shook her head helplessly, looking worried. This explanation not only explained why Futian Village had such a good harvest, but also eliminated Wu Baixi's doubts.

"The villagers worked hard from dawn to dusk every day to fetch water for irrigation, which saved the crops. But now, the river has turned into a small creek." Xiuying frowned and spoke in a heavy tone.

"The water volume is getting less and less. If it continues like this, I'm afraid it won't last much longer." She looked at the fields in the distance, worried, and her hands unconsciously clenched the corners of her clothes.

When talking about the dry weather, Wu Baixi couldn't help but feel ashamed. A look of guilt and gloom appeared on his face.

"Sister Xiuying, as the local official, I feel ashamed that I can't offer any significant assistance in the face of such a natural disaster."

He sighed heavily and continued, "However, the emperor has decided to offer sacrifices to heaven and pray for rain. I hope that this will move the heavens and relieve the suffering of this drought."

There was a hint of hope in Wu Baixi's eyes, but also a bit of uncertainty.

"I just hope this method can be useful and allow the people to suffer less." He frowned, his expression full of worry.

Xiuying didn't say anything after hearing this. She lowered her head, her mind full of thoughts.

In this day and age, people seem so powerless in the face of natural disasters, and can only turn to heaven for help. But who knows whether heaven will be merciful? Xiuying thought helplessly.

In Futian Village, villagers toil daily, carrying water for irrigation. Their harvest is only possible because they follow their own cultivation of crops. Meanwhile, many other areas continue to struggle under the torment of drought. A sense of sadness welled up in her heart, and she was filled with worry and uncertainty about the future.

Xiuying smiled and said to Wu Baixi, "I hope the emperor's prayer for rain will be effective and bring a glimmer of life and hope to this parched land."

Xiuying prayed silently in her heart, but her uneasy heart could not calm down.

It seems that we still need to find the village chief to unite the villagers on this matter.

Xiuying and Wu Baixi chatted for a while as the sun began to set.

"Brother Wu, if you don't mind, let's have a simple meal here." Xiuying said enthusiastically.

Wu Baixi waved his hand, looking a little anxious: "Sister Xiuying, thank you for your kindness, but I still have to rush to Fancheng. Time is pressing and I can't delay."

Seeing that he was determined to leave, Xiuying did not try to persuade him to stay. She turned and walked into the kitchen. After a while, she came out with a bag of ready-made egg pancakes.

"Brother Wu, we have no one to take care of us along the way. Take this egg pancake with you. It will help you fill your stomach when you are hungry." Xiuying handed the egg pancake to Wu Baixi.

Wu Baixi took it gratefully and said, "Sister Xiuying, you are always so kind. I won't be polite then."

After saying that, he jumped onto the carriage and galloped towards Fancheng.

Awang and Xiao Laoliu were still picking eggs in the chicken coop, and they were very busy.

Awang bent over, his eyes fixed on the ground, searching carefully for traces of the eggs.

Little Laoliu ran around excitedly, muttering, "There's one here, and there's one over there!"

There was a faint smell of chicken manure in the chicken coop, but they didn't care at all and were immersed in the joy of picking eggs.

Awang's forehead was covered with sweat, but he didn't bother to wipe it off. Xiao Laoliu's face was as red as a ripe apple.

Awang was completely unaware that Wu Baixi had left and continued to work diligently in the chicken coop. The occasional crowing of chickens failed to interrupt their concentration.

In the following days, the villagers were busy counting the stored food. The village was bustling with people busy everywhere.

Some people were carefully recording in the account book, some were moving grain and weighing it, and the children were watching curiously from the side, helping to pass things from time to time.

Many villagers followed Xiuying's lead in growing drought-resistant, high-yield rice, and five more families have planted sweet potatoes. Now, every household has food stored in their cellars. With satisfied smiles on their faces, they share their harvests.

Aside from the families of Zhao Cunliang and Zhou Dazhu, the village had neither rice nor sweet potatoes. Zhao Cunliang squatted at his doorstep, smoking a pipe with a worried look on his face. Zhou Dazhu, in the yard, sighed and groaned, worrying about the days ahead.

Zhao's mother was still lying in bed, moaning, her weak voice coming intermittently from inside the house. Zhao Cunliang and Tian Guilan sat in the yard, looking at the gradually darkening sky.

Zhao Cunliang's frown relaxed slightly, and he muttered to himself, "Is it going to rain?"

A glimmer of light flashed in Tian Guilan's eyes. She stood up and put her hands together to pray to the sky: "God bless us, please let it rain heavily and save our poor family."

Tian Guilan stared at the sky with her eyes. The increasingly dark clouds seemed to carry all her hopes. She was anxiously and expectantly waiting for the raindrops to fall.

Zhao Cunliang took a deep drag from his water pipe, exhaled a large cloud of smoke, and began to curse Tian Guilan again: "You are so useless! Xiuying and the village chief said it would be a drought, so it's a drought? She's not the Queen Mother, how can she control the weather?"

His face turned red, his eyes widened, and his saliva flew everywhere.

"Look, isn't it going to rain?"

Zhao Cunliang looked up at the sky again as he spoke, but for some reason, he felt uneasy. He gripped the hookah tightly, his palms sweating, and his originally high voice gradually faded.