Xu Qinghuan felt her legs trembling a little.
The man before her bowed with a deep, formal salute, his courtesy so excessively perfect it seemed less like a gesture towards a merchant's daughter and more like presenting a memorial to the imperial prime minister in court.
If it were anyone else, it might not have mattered, but this man's innate nobility simply couldn't be concealed. The plain cloth robes he wore carried the air of purple official gowns and jade belts; even the dust on his sleeves didn't make him look disheveled, instead adding a touch of composure.
Alarm bells blared in Xu Qinghuan's mind.
What had he just said?
'Driving out the good with the inferior'? 'The Xu family adulterating rice with sand'?
Could such phrases, which sounded like they belonged in the history books, please not be pinned on her, the villainess side character?
She just wanted to quietly play the wastrel, ruining her reputation along the way, so that the looming blade of family confiscation and extermination would fall swiftly and cleanly—or better yet, directly banish her to Lingnan.
Now look, not only was she not being cursed, she was practically being enshrined instead.
Xu Qinghuan stiffly drew her neck back, her gaze landing on a speck of mud not fully wiped from the corner of the man's mouth.
He really had eaten it.
That was congee made from stale rice, mixed with sand, dry grass, and God-knows-what scraps of livestock dung.
The man straightened up and raised his hand, using his thumb to wipe away the grime at his lips.
The movement was deliberate and unhurried. In any other setting, Xu Qinghuan would have thought he was savoring some pre-rain Longjing tea.
"This congee," the man spoke, his voice slightly hoarse, likely scratched by the coarse mouthful, "is truly unpalatable."
Xu Qinghuan's eyes lit up.
That's more like it!
Go on, curse me! Say I'm inhumane! Say I'm treating the famine victims like livestock!
As soon as you label it, the victims still kowtowing around here will surely snap out of it.
Who wants to be fed slop?
"This isn't fit for human consumption!" Xu Qinghuan quickly chimed in, her tone urgent, afraid he might change his mind. "You tasted it too, right? Bitter and gritty, enough to shred your guts! I did it on purpose, I just wanted to..."
"But it tastes of survival."
The man cut her off.
The word "villainess" died on Xu Qinghuan's tongue, nearly making her bite it.
The man turned away, no longer looking at her, his gaze shifting to the crowd of victims still kneeling on the ground and the few ruffians who hadn't fled far, clutching their injuries and groaning.
A commotion arose from the outer edges of the crowd.
Xu Qinghuan stood on tiptoe to look.
That official Li, who had led the earlier disturbance, had long since vanished, likely having slipped away when the tide turned.
Instead, an old man pushed his way out of the throng.
He was dressed respectably, wearing a square scholar's hat and clutching a folding fan, his face flushed red—whether from the jostling or from anger was unclear.
He first cupped his hands towards the man in a brief, not overly formal salute, then snapped his fan shut and pointed it straight at Xu Qinghuan's nose.
"Preposterous! Utterly preposterous!"
The old man's voice boomed with vigor, drowning out the surrounding buzz of discussion.
"Young master, though this humble elder does not know your standing, such deliberate distortion of right and wrong is hardly impartial!"
The old man strode to the front of the congee station, looking at the pot of still-bubbling murky soup with unconcealed disgust, as if it were the source of a plague.
'Sand and silt together, filth for sustenance'—this is nothing but trampling upon human decency!"
He turned to face the observing scholars and the common folk who hadn't yet grasped the situation, slapping his thigh in heartfelt anguish.
"The sages said, 'The people are the most important!' For the Xu family to feed people with such stuff, treating common folk as no better than pigs, dogs, cattle, or sheep—how is this saving lives? This is clearly endangering them! Who will take responsibility if plague breaks out from eating this filth?"
Xu Qinghuan listened, her heart blooming with joy.
This old man was reliable! When there was trouble, he really stepped up!
The expressions of the few scholars who had been moved moments ago shifted under the weight of the old man's classical allusions and grand principles.
Those who read the classics prized integrity and propriety above all.
Their fleeting sense of being moved was washed away by the phrase "trampling upon human decency," leaving them feeling suddenly rather shallow.
That was mud. How could you give it to people to eat?
Some of the more timid commoners also began to hesitate, their hands trembling as they held their bowls, looking from the withered grass floating in the pot to the righteous, stern-faced old gentleman.
Seeing her chance, Xu Qinghuan quickly shot the old man an appreciative glance, even though he wouldn't acknowledge it.
She stepped forward, planting her hands on her hips, her chin lifted even higher than before.
"Did you hear that? Now here's someone who understands!"
Xu Qinghuan pointed at the old man, her voice sharp and caustic, straining to fit the villainess persona.
"This young lady said it from the start: this is fodder for pigs and dogs! Who told you paupers your lives are cheap? If you don't want to die, don't eat it! Scram! This congee is poisoned, full of filth! It'll rot your guts if you drink it!"
Run! All of you, stop drinking it!
Hurry up and wreck this whole operation, let my nominal father come back and clean up the mess. Then this "heartless rich" mission would be perfectly accomplished.
Provoked by her words, the old man trembled with rage, his beard quivering. "You... you venomous woman! How dare you admit it!"
Just as Xu Qinghuan was about to fan the flames, the man who had been silent beside her suddenly let out a low laugh.
The laugh was icy, like shards of winter frost crashing into the heated scene.
The man took a step forward, placing himself between Xu Qinghuan and the old man.
Xu Qinghuan only felt a shadow fall before her, that oppressive aura of authority washing over her.
"You call her a venomous woman?"
The man looked at the old man, his tone flat, betraying neither anger nor pleasure.
The old man stiffened his neck. "Is she not? Feeding famine victims such things is simply..."
"Simply what?"
The man suddenly raised his voice, the sound like metal striking stone, painful to the ears.
"Simply a disgrace to scholarly refinement? Simply contrary to propriety?"
He pointed a finger towards the ruffians on the ground, his hand steady as if directing affairs of state.
"Have you read the classics for half a lifetime until your brains have rotted? Then let me ask you this: if the Xu family were giving away congee made of pure, white refined rice today, whose bellies would it be in right now?"
The old man was stunned by the question, instinctively following the line of his finger.
The ruffians were huddled against the base of the wall, their formerly slick faces now covered in bloody scratches from the famine-maddened victims.
"If it were refined rice," the man gave him no time to think, speaking rapidly, each word piercing, "this congee station would have been looted clean the moment it was set up by these strong, idle good-for-nothings! They'd have hauled the pots away, sold them at high prices on the black market, or stuffed themselves until they burst!"
He turned, his gaze sweeping over the ragged, skeletal figures of the elderly, weak, women, and children.
"Could these people, who are truly starving to the point of collapse, too weak even to cry, possibly snatch a bite from those thugs? Could they wrest a single mouthful of broth from the ruffians' hands?"
The old man's mouth opened, his fan frozen mid-air. He wanted to retort but found no words.
It was the truth.
During famines, congee stations being looted was commonplace.
The better the offering, the less likely it was to reach the victims' mouths.
"You know they couldn't."
The man snorted coldly, his eyes regarding the old man as if he were a fool ignorant of the ways of the world.
"With sand mixed in, the wealthy disdain it, the local bullies can't be bothered to steal it, and even self-proclaimed virtuous scholars like you find it an eyesore! Only those truly on the brink of starvation wouldn't turn their noses up at this grit-filled, life-saving grain!"
"This is the strategy of 'using the inferior to repel the privileged'! It is the sole method to save the masses in this turbulent world!"
These words landed with the weight of thunder, echoing at the city gates.
The scholars in the vicinity turned crimson, wishing they could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.
They had only ever studied "Benevolence, Righteousness, Propriety, Wisdom, and Faith," yet they had never considered that behind such benevolence required the thunderous means of calculating human nature and weighing pros and cons.
The refugees holding their bowls listened with tears welling in their eyes.
So that was it.
So, this mud and sand wasn't an insult; it was a talisman for their survival!
It was to prevent the life-saving grain from being snatched away that Ms. Xu had been forced to resort to such a desperate measure.
"Ms. Xu is righteous!"
Someone shouted from the crowd.
The crowd, which had been wavering just moments ago, instantly erupted. The way they looked at Xu Qinghuan was once again filled with fanaticism.
In fact, it was even more fervent than before.
The old man was critiqued until his face alternated between green and pale. He gripped his fan so hard it nearly snapped, his lips trembling. "Soph... Sophistry! This is clearly just..."
Xu Qinghuan stood in the back, watching the situation reverse yet again, stomping her feet in anxiety.
Who on earth is this man?
How is he able to spin every single thing back in my favor?
If this goes on, her title as the "Saint of Great Qian" would be set in stone.
No!
I absolutely cannot let it end like this!
Xu Qinghuan's eyes darted around wildly until her gaze suddenly landed on a sack of fodder for feeding horses nearby.
Inside was half a sack of yellowed rice bran mixed with bits of crushed tree bark—stuff usually used to fill the stomachs of the livestock pulling the carts.
If you fed this to humans, that would truly be unconscionable.
Without a second word, Xu Qinghuan rushed over and snatched the sack.
The worker was startled. "Miss, that... that's for the donkeys..."
"Forget the donkeys! Feed it to the people!"
Xu Qinghuan shoved the worker aside, hugged the sack, and charged toward the large cauldron. Right in front of the man and the old scholar, she crudely dumped the sack of rice bran into the pot.
Whoosh—
Gray-yellow dust billowed up, choking the surrounding people and making them cough.
The porridge, which was already murky, now turned into a thick paste, with a layer of throat-scratching tree bark scraps floating on top.
Xu Qinghuan grabbed the large ladle and stirred vigorously, mixing the filth into the rice soup.
"It's not enough! How can it be this clean?"
She shouted as she stirred, her face wearing a look of reckless desperation.
"Add more! Throw in tree bark and grass roots! I'd like to see who still dares to call me a good person! I'd like to see who dares say this is food for humans!"
This should do it, right?
I've poured donkey feed into the pot; surely this counts as genuinely humiliating people?
The old man, who had just caught his breath, had been worrying about lacking leverage. Upon seeing this scene, he instantly regained his spirit.
"Look, look! Is this something a human would do? Rice bran and tree bark—is that for people to eat? She's raising the commoners like livestock!"
He pointed at Xu Qinghuan, feeling that he had finally seized the moral high ground.
"Such a black-hearted, rotten-souled venomous woman—everyone has the right to execute her!"
Xu Qinghuan looked expectantly at the man.
Speak up!
Surely you can't whitewash this, right?
The man looked at the pot of paste, which had become murky to the extreme, and his eyes flickered.
Just as Xu Qinghuan thought he was going to turn on her, the man suddenly raised his hands and clapped forcefully once.
Clap!
The crisp sound brought the old man's cursing to an abrupt halt.
The man looked at Xu Qinghuan. His eyes were frighteningly bright, containing not a shred of disgust, but rather overflowing with admiration, perhaps even a hint of... fanaticism.
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"
The ladle in Xu Qinghuan's hand fell into the pot with a clang.
This is brilliant?
Brother, are you okay?
The man turned around, facing the stunned crowd, his voice even more impassioned than before.
"Everyone, look! Though this rice bran is coarse, it fills the belly! Though this tree bark is astringent, it staves off hunger!"
He pointed at the cauldron as if it didn't contain pig swill, but the most precious nectar in the world.
"What is Ms. Xu doing? She is further lowering the cost to expand the scope of relief!"
"One catty of fine rice can only save one person, but this porridge mixed with sand and rice bran—one catty of rice can be boiled into three catties, five catties! Where we could originally save one thousand people, now we can save three thousand! Five thousand!"
The man took a step forward, staring down the old man, his imposing aura forcing the other to retreat repeatedly.
"What kind of 'heart of great endurance' is this!"
"To let more people survive, she does not hesitate to stain her own reputation, does not hesitate to be verbally abused by you sour scholars who only know how to wag your tongues!"
"She would rather bear eternal infamy to buy a chance at life for the people of this city!"
"This is true great mercy and compassion! This is the method of a true saint!"
The entire venue fell into a dead silence.
Only the firewood beneath the pot occasionally let out a crackling pop.
The refugees looked at the even murkier pot of porridge, and their eyes changed.
That was the hope of survival.
For them, it didn't matter if it was rice bran; it didn't matter if it was tree bark.
What mattered was that one pot had become three.
People at the back of the line, who had originally thought their turn would never come, now had hope.
"Ms. Xu..."
A woman holding a child suddenly knelt down and kowtowed heavily toward Xu Qinghuan.
"A living Bodhisattva..."
"Ms. Xu is doing this so we can all live!"
Then came the second, and the third.
Those who had just felt the rice bran would be hard to swallow now all knelt down.
It was a gratitude born of escaping death, a reverence from the bottom of their hearts.
Even the old man was pale-faced at this moment, his lips trembling, unable to speak for a long time.
In the face of this naked logic of survival, his moral essays appeared so pale and powerless.
Li Wencheng had slipped back at some point. He had intended to watch the Xu family make a fool of themselves, but seeing the ground covered with kowtowing refugees, he felt his legs go weak.
It's over.
The Xu family is likely untouchable now.
With the will of the people on their side, anyone who moves against them dies.
Xu Qinghuan stood by the pot, still clutching the empty sack, her entire body trembling.
Not from excitement.
From fear.
The damned system notification sound in her mind was crackling non-stop like firecrackers during the New Year.
[Ding! Detected extreme mass gratitude and shock.]
[Ding! Detected emotional fluctuation from a high-status character.]
[Reward: Retirement fund increased by 300,000 yuan!]
Xu Qinghuan looked at the skyrocketing numbers, then at the man before her who had lifted her onto a divine altar.
She wanted to cry.
She wanted to grab the man by the collar and scream: Can you just shut up?! I really just want to be a bad person!
But she didn't dare.
She could only force out a smile that was uglier than crying, screaming silently in her heart.
Dad!
Hurry up and embezzle something!
This world has gone mad.
It has definitely gone mad.
