Chen Yi had grown used to Liu Lang's unbridled mouth.
Scolding was useless.
Only a beating would make him remember the lesson.
Chen Yi withdrew his gaze, looked at the frail youth before him holding a bowl in both hands, and said with a gentle smile:
"Hold it steady."
A ladleful of rice gruel, half broth and half rice, was poured into the bowl.
The youth darted him a glance, lowered his head, and murmured a soft thank you, benefactor. Then he carefully carried the bowl away.
Xiao Wan'er was doing the same beside him, her eyes lowered as she ladled rice gruel for the refugees.
She could not bear to look closely, nor could she make out these refugees covered in mud and worn gaunt with hunger. Yet she could hear their thanks.
Some were low and heavy, some clear and crisp, some gentle, some muffled and booming.
Without exception, most of those voices were weak and limp.
Only after taking a sip of rice gruel did their slurping carry even a trace of life.
Whenever Xiao Wan'er raised her head and saw those pairs of hopeful eyes, her heart could not help but ache.
"Brother-in-law, I'm afraid we can't keep this up for much longer on our own."
"If the household runs out of grain in a few days, they..."
Though her voice was soft, Chen Yi heard her clearly.
He turned to look at Xiao Wan'er. He more or less understood how she felt, and said with a faint smile:
"A household that accumulates good deeds will surely receive lasting blessings."
"We need only do our best."
Chen Yi naturally understood that it was simply impossible for the Xiao Family's grain alone to provide relief for tens of thousands of refugees.
Nor was it realistic.
Even if