Chapter 233 – Borrowing Grain from Shuangtian Village

Unlike Zhoujia Village and Shangshui Village, the atmosphere in Shuangtian Village was extremely grim at this moment.

The harvest in the village had been poor. After turning in the state grain quota, there was barely any surplus grain left.

When situations like this happened in the past, people were usually encouraged to go out and find a way to survive.

Those with relatives would seek shelter with them. Those without would flee the famine.

Was fleeing famine ever uncommon in history?

Even in the heartland of the Central Plains, like Henan, waves of famine migration occurred frequently. Many have wondered: why didn’t Henan people flee south to the wealthier Jiangnan region, but instead fled to the Guanzhong region?

Actually, there were reasons behind this.

Guanzhong was adjacent to Henan and geographically close.

At that time, people fleeing famine mostly traveled on foot. Those who were a bit better off might have a donkey cart. Naturally, they would choose to take refuge somewhere nearby—otherwise, with little food and strength, they might not even survive the journey.

Another factor was the railway from Henan to Guanzhong. Some people could squeeze onto trains, reducing physical strain.

Moreover, the Guanzhong region had fertile soil and enough grain to support incoming refugees—it had some capacity for disaster relief.

As for going south to Jiangsu and Zhejiang, that was much harder. Those areas had a higher population density and less land. Their economies leaned toward industry and commerce, which meant refugees couldn’t really find work in handicrafts, and even if they could, it wouldn’t be enough to support their families.

If the famine was caused by a Yellow River flood, fleeing downstream was out of the question. You could only flee upstream to escape the flood. Once you reached Guanzhong, you could continue on to Sichuan and Chongqing, where there were fewer wars.

So no, the people of Henan weren’t stupid—there was logic and deliberation in how they fled.

“Village Chief, what should we do? There’s not much grain left,” asked Liang Xiangqian, the brigade leader of Shuangtian Village.

At that time, grain yields per mu were very low, mostly three to four hundred jin. Anything over four hundred jin was considered an excellent harvest.

Rice had a slightly higher yield, reaching five to six hundred jin per mu. So wherever rice could be planted, it was usually the preferred crop. Of course, farmers didn’t have much say in the matter—they had to follow directives on what to plant.

“Let’s mobilize some manpower and try to borrow grain! All the villages just completed their harvests, so they should be relatively flush right now,” someone beside him suggested.

They had to seize this window of opportunity. Only now was there a real chance of borrowing anything.

If they waited until other villages had eaten through their stores, it’d be a miracle to get a single grain.

Village Chief Liang shook his head. “It’ll be tough. Many places had poor harvests too. I doubt they have much surplus. Still, even if it’s a long shot, we have to try.

Let’s split up and try multiple villages.”

He decided to cast a wide net.

To keep the villagers alive, dignity had to take a back seat.

Liang Village Chief thought of Zhoujia Village. Even though it was a bit far, it was worth trying.

So they sent people to all the nearby villages to ask around. However much they could borrow, it would have to do. Liang Village Chief himself went to Zhoujia Village, hoping for a favorable outcome.

No time to waste—they set off immediately.

Right after submitting the public grain, this was the most “affluent” time of year for every village.

By the time dusk fell, Village Chief Liang and three villagers arrived at Zhoujia Village.

“Who goes there?”

They were stopped at the village entrance. These days, Zhoujia Village had guards stationed at the gate, ready to report any strangers.

Even at night, there were patrols.

After all, their village had a lot of “assets” worth guarding.

“Comrade, we’re from Shuangtian Village. I’m the village chief, surname Liang. I’m acquainted with Secretary Zhou of your village. Can you let him know we’re here?”

He didn’t dare barge in—many villages had weapons now. A misunderstanding could easily turn into a deadly conflict.

So, Village Chief Liang introduced himself right away to avoid trouble.

“Please wait here.”

A villager from Zhoujia Village ran off to find the old party secretary.

At the time, the old secretary was chatting with Zhou Yimin. He was surprised by the message, but he quickly guessed what it was about. When they submitted grain to the state, he’d already heard that Shuangtian Village was in dire straits.

The old secretary hesitated.

While Zhoujia Village still had a decent stock of grain, it wasn’t something they could lend out lightly.

After all, even raising poultry required feed. Sure, the animals roamed the mountains and foraged in the wild, but they still needed some grain supplement.

“Tell them I’m not here,” he said after a moment’s thought, hardening his heart.

But Zhou Yimin said, “Didn’t the commune assign us some labor for canal work? Why not do them a favor? Since they came all the way here, let’s not send them away empty-handed.”

The old secretary thought about it and realized that made sense.

So he changed his mind. “Let them in. Take them to the canteen—I’ll head over.”

The villager ran back to deliver the message.

The old secretary turned to Zhou Yimin and said, “Want to come meet Village Chief Liang with me?”

Since there was nothing else going on, Zhou Yimin nodded. “Sure.”

The two of them went to the village canteen, where Village Chief Liang and his group had just been welcomed in. The rich aroma of food wafted from the canteen, making all four of them feel ravenous.

“Secretary Zhou, we meet again,” said Village Chief Liang, quickly extending a hand.

The old secretary shook it briefly. “Village Chief Liang, what brings you here today…”

Straight to the point—no beating around the bush. After spending time with Zhou Yimin, the old secretary had adopted a more direct style, cutting down on empty talk.

Village Chief Liang sighed. “It’s shameful to say, but we’re here to borrow grain. Shuangtian Village is in terrible shape. The harvest was a disaster, and after paying the public grain, we’re left with almost nothing.

So we came today to ask if you might help us. Of course, if there’s anything about Shuangtian Village that interests you, don’t hesitate to speak up.”

He knew borrowing grain with nothing to offer was a hard ask, so he added that last part.

Even the poorest village would have something of value. If they could trade goods for grain, that would be ideal.

The old secretary shook his head slightly. “Zhoujia Village doesn’t have much surplus either—but there is something we could help with.”

“Oh? What is it?” Village Chief Liang was surprised.

Though he was disappointed at the refusal to lend grain outright, the latter part of the sentence gave him a sliver of hope.

(End of Chapter)