Courtyard House: Home Alone

After saying that, he turned to look at Shi Tou: "Brother Shi Tou, take him to the pharmaceutical factory and tell Zhao Gang that everyone arrested tonight should be locked in a small dark room until they voluntarily confess everything."

Shi Tou responded and gestured for two men to lift Liu Quande up. As the man was dragged out the door, he was still making hoarse noises, but his eyes were fixed on Lin Yifan, as if he wanted to carve that face into his bones.

He closed the door, turned around and went back into the room, where he lay down on the bed: Once Liu Quande was captured, Dai Yunong was nearly blind in Beiping.

If he wanted to take any further action, he would have to bring in people from other places, which would take at least ten days. Ten days later... everything had been settled.

As for Chen Gongshu, even if he comes, he'll be all alone. We'll put him in a dark room for a few days. These people are capable, so we should make good use of them.

I fell asleep while thinking about it.

Two days passed in the blink of an eye, and the banquet went very smoothly; even the Japanese did not make any trouble.

At the banquet, Mr. Tang announced the establishment of the "Beiping Municipal Committee," appointing himself as chairman and Zheng Shucheng and Qin Zhirong as vice-chairmen. Appointments for other personnel at all levels would be announced immediately.

Lin Yifan also handed over the sales of penicillin and sulfonamides to Tang Baolin. He then stayed at home preparing for the Chinese New Year, having originally planned to visit his family in Chongqing.

However, considering that something might happen to Grandpa Tang at any time, it was finally decided to wait until the drug sales were settled before making any further decisions.

With only three days left until the New Year, Lin Yifan leaned against the daybed, munching on an apple while watching Yu Wenxiu and Tian Xinyi take flour, salted chicken, and cured meat out of the cellar.

Wenxiu, who had just climbed out of the cellar, brushed the dust off his clothes and said, "Young master, how come we have so much food in our cellar? How long will it take to eat it all?"

"Isn't it good to have plenty of food? You can all eat as much as you want. Our family has no shortage of food. The food in the cellar alone is enough for the four of us to eat..." At this point, Lin Yifan, who was leaning against the daybed, suddenly jumped up.

Then he started pacing around the main room, muttering to himself, "Oh no! Oh no! I forgot about this important matter. But it shouldn't be too late now."

"Xia Yan! Wenxiu, go and call Xia Yan here quickly. I have something urgent for her to do."

Wenxiu was startled, nearly dropping the two salted chickens in her hands: "Young master, what's wrong?"

"Go quickly!"

Lin Yifan had already moved to the doorway, his fox fur coat creating a gust of wind. "Tell Xia Yan to go to the Tang residence immediately and invite the old master over. Tell him there's something urgent to discuss."

Seeing his grave expression, Wenxiu dared not ask any more questions, put down the salted chicken, and ran outside. Xinyi poked her head out of the cellar, looking bewildered: "Young master, are we still moving this flour?"

"Move it, and seal the cellar entrance after you're done." Lin Yifan stood in the center of the main room, how could he have forgotten about this?

Next year will be the 42nd year, and the entire Central Plains will suffer a once-in-a-century drought. At that time, nearly three million people will starve to death.

It's only 41 years now, there's still time, but we must hurry and start preparing. Thinking of this, he used his mental power to check the static warehouse in his space and found that the food reserves weren't very high.

He quickly used his mind to plant all the open space in the space with high-yield corn, potatoes, and sweet potatoes, and then set the time to the fastest speed. In this way, he would have about a year left, which should be enough to cope with the severe drought in the Central Plains in 42.

The only problem now is how to persuade Grandpa Tang to choose a suitable location, build more granaries, and store the grain in a dispersed manner, just in case.

"Young Master!" Xia Yan practically ran in, his short jacket still open, clearly dragged out of bed by Wen Xiu. "What happened?"

Lin Yifan grabbed her wrist, the force so strong that Xia Yan frowned: "Xia Yan, listen carefully. Go to the Tang residence immediately and invite the old master over. Tell him there's something extremely urgent to discuss, concerning the survival of Beiping next year."

Xia Yan was taken aback by the anxiety in his eyes. Usually, the young master was always confident and composed, and she had never seen him with such an expression before. She nodded subconsciously and turned to rush out, but Lin Yifan grabbed her by the back of her collar and pulled her back.

"Wait, put your clothes on properly." He personally fastened the collar of her short jacket for her, then slipped two silver dollars into her hand. "The snow has just stopped, the roads are slippery, call a rickshaw, don't try to save a few dollars."

Xia Yan clutched the silver dollar: "Young master, what exactly is going on...?"

"It's hard to say right now." Lin Yifan pushed her out the door. "Go quickly!"

The door slammed shut. Xia Yan stood frozen on the steps for a moment, then ran through the snow toward the alley entrance.

As the footsteps faded into the distance, Lin Yifan turned to Xinyi and said, "Go and count the grain in the cellar, and make sure you remember the exact amount."

"Young master, what's going on...?"

"Prepare for famine."

Xin Yi nodded, seemingly understanding, and crawled back into the cellar. Lin Yifan stood alone in the center of the main room, three million. He silently recited the number in his mind.

They didn't die in battle, nor from disease; they starved to death. Tree bark, grass roots, clay—and finally, cannibalism.

He had read about it in history books, the numbers printed in lead type, light and airy on a single page. Now, experiencing it firsthand, he realized its weight—the sob that escaped from the chests of three million people as they breathed their last.

Less than half an hour later, Xia Yan knocked on the courtyard gate. Wen Xiu ran to the gate and opened it. Xia Yan pulled Grandpa Tang along and quickly walked into the courtyard.

Entering the main room, the old man, without even catching his breath, immediately asked, "Huaijin, you've never been this nervous before. What's wrong with you today?"

"Old Master, please sit down first. I'll explain everything to you in detail." After saying that, he turned to Yu Wenxiu and instructed her, "Wenxiu, go and make the old master a cup of tea."

Seeing the old man sit down, Lin Yifan didn't speak immediately. He gathered his thoughts.

"Old sir," he turned around, his voice extremely low, "do you still remember the great drought of the thirteenth year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign?"

Tang Baolin paused, his hand holding the teacup still. Of course he remembered—not from personal experience, but from the bloody records in the family genealogy. Tang's ancestors fled famine from Shanxi to Zhili, selling their children along the way. By the time they reached the outskirts of Beiping, only seven of the thirty-odd family members remained.

"Huaijin, what's wrong with you...?"

"next year."

Lin Yifan sat down opposite the old man. "Next spring, the Central Plains will suffer a severe drought. It's not an ordinary famine; it's a once-in-a-century drought, even worse than the one in the thirteenth year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign."

There was no rain when the wheat turned green and when it was filling out, so by harvest time, only 10-20% of the wheat could be harvested.

Even if it were a miracle, it would be considered a blessing in disguise.

Tang Baolin's teacup hovered in mid-air, the tea rippling in a fine circle. He stared at Lin Yifan for a long time, as if trying to discern the truth or falsehood in his words.