Chapter 40
When Su Muchen spread out the “Emergency Supplies Plan for the Northern Frontier,” Xiao Yuan finally saw clearly that it was not simply a procurement list.
The paper had been divided into several columns.
Number of people, calories, weight, volume, ease of concealment, gate load, difficulty of explaining it in ancient terms, distribution risks.
Behind each item were densely written notes, with some sections even circled in red pen. At first glance, it looked like a military provisions ledger, but upon closer inspection, it was completely different from the grain records commonly used by Da Sheng.
Xiao Yuan stood before the table, his gaze falling on the four words “ease of concealment.” He was silent for a moment.
“You thought of all this long ago?”
Su Muchen did not answer immediately.
He opened the laptop and placed his phone beside it. A simple calculation interface appeared on the screen. These past few days, he had been studying the food crisis that might arise in the Northern Frontier. Although he did not want to actually make use of these preparations, ever since Linzhou, he had already understood one thing very clearly—the worst-case scenario was often not a guess, but a reality that would come sooner or later.
“I started thinking about it when you said you were going north.” Su Muchen lowered his head and entered some numbers. “I just thought we still had more time.”
Xiao Yuan said, “Han Chuan originally had 3,800 stationed soldiers and household registrations for 26,000 households. But now refugees have entered the city, and the actual population has not yet been determined.”
“Then calculate based on the worst-case scenario first.”
Su Muchen converted the 26,000 households into an estimated population, then had Xiao Yuan add the proportion of elderly and weak people, the number of soldiers, the amount of edible grain currently available, and how many days it could last. He did not ask how that grain had been tampered with, nor did he immediately curse the Crown Prince for his viciousness.
Those emotions were useless—at least before they had figured out how to keep everyone alive.
A series of estimated results quickly appeared on the screen.
Su Muchen stared at the numbers, his brows slowly knitting together.
“If we supply them normally, it’s impossible for me to feed the entire city directly.”
Xiao Yuan’s expression did not change. He had known this from the beginning.
Han Chuan was not a few dozen wounded soldiers, nor a few hundred refugees, but an entire city. Even if the gate of Guichen House was miraculous, it was impossible to transport mountains of rice and flour through it day and night like a grain route. Moreover, every time the gate opened, it carried a burden, and the farther north they went, the more unstable it became.
If he truly carried out enough grain through the gate to save the entire city of Han Chuan, let alone the Crown Prince, even the people of Han Chuan would find something suspicious.
Su Muchen stared at the calculations for a long while, then suddenly deleted several columns and created a new plan.
“So we can’t set the goal as ‘feed the entire city.’”
Xiao Yuan looked at him.
Su Muchen raised his eyes.
“Keep them alive first.”
Those three words caused Xiao Yuan’s eyes to shift slightly.
Su Muchen turned the paper toward him.
“There’s still some edible grain in your granaries. Although it isn’t enough, there isn’t absolutely none. The wealthy households, merchants, and military households in the city should also have privately stored grain. You and Xia Lanshi will investigate it and distribute it collectively. That grain comes from Han Chuan itself, so it can make the people believe in the source and also prevent anyone from investigating.”
Xiao Yuan nodded.
Xia Lanshi was already working on this.
Su Muchen continued, “I can’t transport large quantities of rice directly. Rice takes up too much space and weighs too much. It’s easy to expose, and it wastes the gate’s carrying capacity. What you need isn’t something that looks like a mountain of grain, but something that provides the highest number of calories within the smallest volume.”
He wrote several things on the paper.
Compressed biscuits.
High-calorie nutrition bars.
Dehydrated vegetable soup packets.
Nutritional powder.
Oral rehydration salts.
Glucose powder.
Liquid food specifically for infants and seriously ill patients.
Xiao Yuan looked at the unfamiliar terms, his brows slightly furrowed.
“These can be used as grain?”
“They can’t replace grain long-term, but they can save lives,” Su Muchen said. “Especially for the elderly, children, patients, and wounded soldiers. When someone is starving, the most dangerous thing is suddenly eating a large amount of food. It can cause problems. First, use the local rice and grain to make thin porridge, then add these high-calorie supplements. As for what we tell outsiders, don’t call them food. You can say they’re marching pills, nourishing powder, and medicinal meal packets used by overseas armies.”
Xiao, who had originally been sitting nearby, finally laughed.
“Marching pills. That actually sounds believable.”
Su Muchen glanced at him.
“Remove all the packaging. There can’t be any modern writing, barcodes, plastic bags, or instructions left behind. Everything must be repacked in oiled paper, cloth bags, and wooden boxes. Cut the nutrition bars into pieces and compress them into pill shapes. Grind up some of the compressed biscuits and mix them into the porridge. Handing out whole pieces would be too conspicuous, and people could easily ask where they came from.”
Xiao Yuan’s gaze stopped on Su Muchen’s face.
He suddenly realized that Su Muchen had truly changed a great deal.
The young man who had initially been frightened in Guichen House yet still forced himself to save people had now become someone capable of rapidly calculating supplies, risks, cover stories, and public sentiment when an entire city was about to run out of food.
He knew no martial arts, understood nothing of court politics, and had never been on a battlefield.
But he knew how to keep people alive.
And that was more important than many of those who talked grandly in the imperial court.
“There’s one more thing.” Su Muchen had not noticed Xiao Yuan’s gaze and continued writing. “We can’t send too much at once. What the Crown Prince is waiting for is exactly for you to suddenly produce a massive amount of grain. You need to make Han Chuan appear as though it survived by relying on local investigations, grain reported by wealthy households, allocations from Linzhou, military ration reductions, and small amounts of foreign goods.”
He knew many people were opposing Xiao Yuan, including the Crown Prince, the Third Prince, Prince Jing, and the Fifth Prince, Prince Jing. But the one who hated Xiao Yuan the most was the Crown Prince. He desperately wanted Xiao Yuan dead, though Su Muchen had no idea what Xiao Yuan had done to make the Crown Prince hate him so much.
Xiao Yuan slowly said, “No single source can appear too important.”
“Exactly.” Su Muchen nodded. “It’s like a puzzle. Each piece looks reasonable on its own. Put them together, and they can save lives.”
Xiao put down his coffee and finally stood.
“Then I’ll contact the channels. High-calorie foods, dehydrated vegetables, infant nutrition products, protein powder, and glucose powder can all be bought off the shelf. But the quantities are too large and will attract attention, so they’ll need to be purchased in batches.”
Su Muchen asked, “How long?”
“One batch can arrive tonight. The second batch early tomorrow morning. After that, we can split them under several different categories.” Xiao thought for a moment before adding, “We can spread the purchases across outdoor rescue supplies, long-distance hiking, emergency preparedness supplies, and elderly care foods.”
Su Muchen immediately wrote it down.
Xiao Yuan did not understand most of those terms, but he understood the meaning.
They could not make the supplies look like a concentrated mobilization specifically targeting Han Chuan.
People in Su Muchen’s world were also watching Guichen House.
They had to guard against not only the Crown Prince, but also the Sheng clan.
The enemies of two worlds were separated by a single door, yet both were watching the same secret.
Su Muchen soon opened another interface. It was a near-future AI nutrition and disaster rationing model. It had originally been a public tool for planning community emergency reserves. He had only read about it before and had never imagined that one day he would actually use it to save an ancient city.
He entered Han Chuan’s approximate population, its cold environment, existing food supplies, the weight of transportable materials, and the minimum daily calorie requirements. The model began running simulations, producing several plans within moments.
After looking through them, Su Muchen retained only the most conservative one.
“This one.”
Xiao Yuan looked at the screen.
Su Muchen copied down the key points with a pen.
“On the first day, open porridge stations, but keep the porridge thin. Elderly people, children, and patients get priority. Give them oral rehydration salts and small amounts of nutritional powder. Starting on the second day, the army distributes a portion of marching pills every day. The civilians rely mainly on the porridge stations. Healthy adults can eat small amounts of compressed food, but they must not eat too much at once. On the third day, investigate the entire city’s food supplies and force wealthy households to report their grain, but leave them enough for their own use so they don’t rebel. Starting on the fourth day, break up the high-calorie foods from our side and mix them into the porridge. Tell outsiders they were medicinal food powders and overseas merchant goods sent from Linzhou. Before the fifth day, we must reopen at least one nearby grain route. Even if only a small amount of local grain can be transported in, everyone must believe the grain route is still functioning.”
When he reached this point, he looked up at Xiao Yuan.
“People aren’t most afraid of being hungry for five days. They’re afraid of believing they’ll definitely be dead after five days.”
His grandfather had died young. As for how he had survived his childhood, he no longer wanted to think about it. He only remembered often being hungry, having no money, eating one meal without knowing where the next would come from—that feeling of despair.
Xiao Yuan remained silent for a moment.
“So we need to let them see grain.”
“Exactly. Even if there isn’t much, they need to see it.” Su Muchen said, “The porridge stations need to be public, distribution needs to be fair, and the grain inventory needs to be posted publicly. Let the people know that no one is hiding grain and refusing to give it out, but that it is truly being distributed according to human lives.”
Xiao Yuan said quietly, “The Crown Prince’s people will see it too.”
“Let them.” Su Muchen said, “Let them see you busy investigating wealthy households, opening porridge stations, securing the granaries, and reallocating the remaining supplies from Linzhou. The things that actually pass through the gate shouldn’t appear in their original form, nor should they go directly into the granaries.”
There was finally the faintest smile in Xiao Yuan’s eyes.
“You’re becoming more and more like a chief administrator. Many of your ideas coincide with Xia Lanshi’s.”
Su Muchen looked at him expressionlessly.
“Thank you. I don’t want to be one. I’m just a shopkeeper who was forced into logistics.”
Xiao slowly said from the side, “Muchen, your shopkeeper business now covers cross-world disaster relief, converting gray-market gold into usable funds, ancient military supply, and long-term patient management.”
Su Muchen was silent for a moment.
“Do you want your mouth sewn shut again?”
Xiao laughed.
The atmosphere relaxed slightly because of those words.
Su Muchen quickly lowered his head again and opened his notebook.
“There’s one more thing.”
Xiao Yuan asked, “What?”
Su Muchen wrote four words on the paper: “Long-term plan.”
“Even if we save Han Chuan this time, what about next winter? And the winter after that? If the Northern Frontier relies on the imperial court to transport grain every year, it’ll still have problems as soon as someone interferes.”
Xiao Yuan’s expression also grew solemn.
This was precisely the Northern Frontier’s long-standing deadlock.
The Northern Frontier was bitterly cold, with little farmland and long winters. The soldiers and civilians relied heavily on grain routes from the south and allocations from the imperial court. Once the roads were blocked by snow, or someone in the court deliberately withheld grain, the border cities could only struggle to survive.
Su Muchen turned and took another set of materials from beside the bookshelf.
“I looked into some cold-resistant crops and planting methods for high-altitude, cold regions. You may not be able to use them immediately, but you can start testing them in advance.”
He wrote several names down.
Cold-resistant wheat, oats, buckwheat, potatoes, cabbage, mustard greens, cold-resistant legumes, greenhouse seedlings, underground grain storage, silage.
Xiao Yuan looked at the words “potatoes” and asked, “Does this crop produce a high yield?”
“Very high,” Su Muchen said. “But the problem is that this thing may not exist in your world. Even if we bring it over, we can’t suddenly introduce it on a large scale. We can first introduce it as a foreign root crop and test it in military farms. It’s cold-resistant, can grow in some barren soil, and is very suitable as a staple food supplement.”
Xiao Yuan’s gaze deepened.
A staple food.
He understood the weight of those two words better than anyone.
If the Northern Frontier could truly grow a new crop that did not depend on grain transported from the south, then not only Han Chuan, but the entire Northern Frontier would change.
But precisely because of that, this thing could not be exposed easily.
Su Muchen understood this as well.
“We can’t bring in too many varieties at once. Start with small quantities and say they’re rare foreign goods brought by overseas merchants. Have your people secretly test them on military farms. Don’t make any announcements before you succeed. If it fails, no one will pay attention. Also, I’ll organize the planting methods into language that Da Sheng can understand. There can’t be any modern terminology.”
Xiao suddenly asked, “What about the seeds?”
“Buy whatever we can find first. If we can’t get seeds, we can try using edible tubers. There’s also agricultural AI that can match crops to environments. I need to know the soil, temperature, snow season, and water sources in the Northern Frontier. I can’t go there, so you’ll have to bring samples back.”
Xiao Yuan froze.
“Even the soil?”
“Yes.” Su Muchen said, “Different soil suits different crops. Don’t look so surprised. Farming isn’t just burying something in the ground and watching it grow.”
He knew Xiao Yuan was not stupid, but Xiao Yuan was ultimately a high-ranking prince. Most of his time was spent fighting wars and struggling in court politics. He probably had no time to study agriculture.
Xiao Yuan fell silent.
He really had thought exactly that just now.
Su Muchen continued, “Short-term survival depends on high-calorie foods and a rationing system. Medium-term survival depends on reopening grain routes and searching for hidden grain. Long-term survival depends on the Northern Frontier being able to grow, store, and survive the winter on its own. These three things have to be done together. We can’t only focus on what’s in front of us.”
Xiao Yuan looked at the sheets of paper scattered across the table.
Han Chuan’s five-day path to survival.
The Northern Frontier’s three-year grain strategy.
The gate’s carrying capacity.
The Crown Prince’s spies.
The Sheng clan’s surveillance.
These completely different problems had somehow been broken down into executable steps by Su Muchen, stroke by stroke, inside this shabby little shop.
Xiao Yuan suddenly remembered what Su Muchen had said in Linzhou.
Solve them one by one.
At the time, he had thought those words were too simple.
Only now did he understand that being able to break things down one by one in the middle of chaos was itself an extremely rare ability.
Su Muchen slapped the first version of the plan in front of Xiao Yuan.
“Take this back first. Tonight’s first batch of supplies can’t be too large. Give them first to the seriously ill, elderly, children, and soldiers on patrol. Tomorrow morning, I’ll have Xiao handle the second batch. Once you return, do three things first. First, establish porridge stations. Second, investigate the city’s grain supplies. Third, find an inconspicuous place to receive the supplies. Don’t send them directly into the government office, and don’t let Qin Feng know the entire source.”
Xiao Yuan nodded.
Su Muchen said, “It’s not that we don’t trust him. We’re protecting him. The less he knows, the safer he’ll be when the Crown Prince investigates.”
He understood this sentence.
Many times, a secret was not something one refused to reveal, but something one could not let another person carry because the burden was too heavy.
Xiao had already begun moving the high-calorie foods from the warehouse. His movements were quick. He removed the packaging and sorted everything into unmarked cloth bags. Su Muchen, meanwhile, rewrote the descriptions beside him. Every description deliberately avoided modern terminology, replacing it with terms that the people of Da Sheng could understand.
Nutritional powder became “Nourishing Powder.”
Crushed compressed biscuits became “Marching Dry Ration Powder.”
Cut-up energy bars became “Marching Pills.”
Rehydration salts became “Salt-Sugar Water Ingredients.”
Dehydrated vegetables became “Dried Vegetable Soup Ingredients.”
Xiao Yuan looked at those names and was silent for a moment.
“You’re getting quite skilled at naming these things.”
Su Muchen put down his pen.
“I was forced to.”
Xiao added from the side, “Young Master is already showing quite a talent for being a foreign merchant with a guilty conscience.”
Su Muchen gave him a cold look.
“Say one more word and I’ll send you to Han Chuan to deliver the supplies.”
Xiao laughed even more happily.
“Would Chief Administrator Xia be moved?”
The moment those words were spoken, the shop suddenly fell silent.
Su Muchen looked up at him.
Xiao was still smiling, but his fingertips had tightened slightly.
Xiao Yuan also glanced at him, his expression thoughtful.
Xiao acted as though he had noticed nothing and lowered his head to continue sealing the bags.
“Just kidding.”
Su Muchen did not expose him.
He simply pushed a small package toward Xiao.
“This is the second-stage supplement for Xia Lanshi. You can sort it out while you’re at it.”
Xiao lowered his head.
Inside the small package were a new eye-covering cloth, nutritional liquid, warming patches, and several pieces of dark-tinted protective lenses.
A sheet of paper was pressed on top.
The handwriting was still Su Muchen’s.
—The reflection from the snow is intense, and his eyes will have an even harder time. Don’t let him force himself.
Xiao stared at that line for a while before saying quietly, “Got it.”
◆◇◆◇◆
When Xiao Yuan returned to Han Chuan, dawn had not yet broken.
In an abandoned storeroom behind the government office, the white light quietly faded.
The hidden guards stationed outside only sensed that several wooden crates and cloth bags seemed to have appeared inside, but no one dared ask questions.
Xiao Yuan ordered the things to be sent in batches to three locations.
One portion went into the military medical tent, labeled “Medicinal Meals Prepared by Physician Su.”
One portion was given to Chi Banyue, who personally delivered it to the first porridge station established in the city.
The final portion was temporarily hidden in the old woodshed beside the government office, guarded by Xiao Yuan’s personal guards.
There were no strange characters or unusual packaging on any of the crates. They were simply ordinary oiled paper, cloth bags, and wooden boxes. Even if someone opened them, they would only see powder, pieces of dry food, and packets of dried vegetables resembling medicinal ingredients.
When Xia Lanshi arrived at the storeroom wearing a thick cloak, the sky was still dark.
He really should not have gotten up so early.
But given Han Chuan’s current situation, it would have been strange if he could sleep peacefully.
Chi Banyue followed behind him, her expression extremely displeased.
“If Physician Su knew you got up at the Hour of the Tiger, he would definitely reduce your daily working hours to half an hour.”
Xia Lanshi said gently, “Then don’t let him know.”
Chi Banyue laughed.
“You think His Highness won’t tell him?”
Xia Lanshi: “…”
He suddenly realized that his situation was becoming increasingly difficult.
When Xiao Yuan saw him, his brows also furrowed.
“Why did you come?”
Xia Lanshi did not answer. He only looked toward the wooden crates.
“This is the first batch?”
Xiao Yuan nodded.
Xia Lanshi approached and opened one of the bags. When he saw the small pieces of marching pills inside, then smelled another packet of nourishing powder, his expression shifted slightly.
“There isn’t much.”
“There can’t be much,” Xiao Yuan said. “The Crown Prince’s people are watching.”
Xia Lanshi nodded lightly.
Naturally, he understood.
What the Crown Prince wanted was not for Xiao Yuan to produce grain, but to force him to produce grain that could not be explained.
Therefore, they had to make sure every supply had a source, every grain route had a cover story, and every distribution looked as though Han Chuan itself was still functioning, rather than appearing as though divine objects had fallen from the sky.
This was harder than simply saving people.
Because they not only had to race hunger for lives, but also maneuver around the Crown Prince’s spies.
Xia Lanshi picked up Su Muchen’s plan and read it carefully.
The longer he read, the deeper his eyes became.
“Physician Su is very clever.”
Xiao Yuan said, “Mm.”
Chi Banyue leaned over. Seeing that the document stated that elderly people and children should receive food first, patients must not overeat, and healthy adults should receive marching pills, she could not help laughing.
“He really wants to manage everything.”
Xia Lanshi said softly, “Being able to care about people’s lives in such detail isn’t a bad thing.”
Chi Banyue froze.
She turned toward Xia Lanshi.
The latter lowered his eyes, his fingertips gently rubbing the surface of the paper, as though he were looking at a military order, or perhaps at the concern left behind by someone he had never met.
He had seen too many people treat human lives as numbers.
In the imperial court, an entire city of civilians could be reduced to a single sentence in a disaster report.
In military reports, casualties could be reduced to a brief line.
But every item Su Muchen had written was different.
The elderly could not eat too much at once.
Children had to replenish fluids before eating.
People with fevers had to line up separately.
Frostbite victims could not immediately be scalded with hot water.
Behind every line was a specific person.
Xia Lanshi could understand why Xiao Yuan had returned to that door again and again.
Behind it were not merely medicine and grain.
There was also a Su Muchen who still insisted on treating people as people in the midst of chaos.
“Follow his plan.” Xia Lanshi closed the document and said softly, “Also, the investigation of grain within Han Chuan must be accelerated. If the Crown Prince’s people are in the city, they will definitely be watching the porridge stations and granaries today. We might as well let them watch.”
Xiao Yuan looked at him.
Xia Lanshi raised his eyes. His lips were still pale, but his gaze was clear.
“Let them see us busy confiscating grain hidden by wealthy households. Let them see Qin Feng lead troops out of the city to meet the Linzhou grain convoy. Let them see the government office post notices and reorganize the rationing system. As for the actual marching pills and nourishing powder, they don’t enter the granaries. They only enter the medical tents and porridge stations.”
Chi Banyue smiled.
“The Crown Prince wants to watch a show, so we’ll build him a stage.”
Xia Lanshi nodded.
“Only the show has to be fake in exactly the right way.”
Xiao Yuan simply looked at him and said flatly, “Your two hours today have already started.”
Xia Lanshi: “…”
Chi Banyue could not help laughing.
The first day in Han Chuan began amid wind, snow, and hunger.
As soon as dawn broke, the first notice was posted outside the government office.
Prince Su had taken control of Han Chuan’s granaries, opened porridge stations, investigated grain reserves, prohibited hoarding, and prohibited the raising of grain prices. Violators would be punished according to military law.
At the same time, pots were set up at four porridge stations throughout the city.
The porridge was very thin.
So thin that many people’s eyes filled with disappointment the moment they saw it.
But soon, they smelled a faint fragrance.
It was not merely the scent of rice, but a mixture of dried vegetables, salt, and some indescribable warmth.
Chi Banyue stood beside the first porridge station, personally supervising the distribution.
A child who was so thin he was little more than skin and bones clutched his bowl and tried to gulp it down. She reached out and stopped him.
The child was startled, thinking he had done something wrong, and terror appeared in his eyes.
Chi Banyue crouched down, pushed the bowl back toward him, and said gently, in a tone that was rare for her,
“Drink slowly. Physician Su said you can’t rush when you’ve been hungry for too long.”
The child stared blankly at her.
“Physician Su?”
Chi Banyue smiled and nodded.
“A doctor who is very good at managing people.”
The child did not understand, but as he looked at the steaming porridge in his hands, he suddenly asked softly, “After I finish… will there be more?”
Chi Banyue’s throat tightened slightly.
She raised a hand and stroked the child’s messy hair.
“There will be.”
Not far away, several gazes were hidden among the crowd, quietly watching the porridge station before shifting toward the government office.
Chi Banyue acted as though she had not noticed and continued ordering people to distribute the porridge.
Behind her, the marching dry ration powder that had been ground up and mixed into the porridge was quietly giving the first people in Han Chuan who were about to collapse another breath of strength.
Inside the government office, news that Qin Feng had led soldiers to investigate grain quickly spread throughout the city.
Several wealthy households initially tried to make excuses. But when the first family was discovered to have thirty dan of grain hidden in its cellar while publicly claiming poverty, Xiao Yuan did not even bother with a formal trial. He directly ordered ninety percent confiscated, the head of the household to receive twenty strokes of the rod, and the punishment to be publicly posted.
The blow fell extremely quickly.
So quickly that everyone understood: Prince Su was not here to negotiate.
He was here to save lives—and to kill people.
By that afternoon, more people began voluntarily reporting their grain.
Han Chuan was like someone on the verge of freezing to death whose stiff clothing had been forcibly cut open, slowly allowing the warmth hidden beneath the flesh to return.
But everyone knew this was still not enough.
Xiao Yuan stood outside the government office, looking at the civilians lining up in the distance to receive porridge, his gaze calm.
Xia Lanshi stood beside him in a thick cloak.
“The first day has been stabilized.”
Xiao Yuan said, “It’s not enough.”
“Of course it isn’t enough.” Xia Lanshi said softly, “What the Crown Prince wants to see is us falling into chaos on the very first day.”
A coldness flashed through Xiao Yuan’s eyes.
“Then we’ll disappoint him.”
Xia Lanshi coughed twice.
Xiao Yuan immediately looked at him.
Chi Banyue also emerged from behind them.
“Chief Administrator Xia, your two hours are up.”
Xia Lanshi: “…”
He looked at the unfinished grain ledgers in the distance, then at the nutritional liquid that Chi Banyue had somehow prepared in her hand. Finally, he slowly exhaled.
“Physician Su truly is remarkable. Even a thousand li away, he still makes it impossible to escape him.”
He, Xia Lanshi, could calculate the intentions of everyone under Heaven, yet he was somehow controlled by a person he had never even met.
Xiao Yuan said flatly, “Your health is simply too poor.”
Xia Lanshi: “…”
This man truly had no memory of having once been a seriously wounded patient himself.
He ultimately accepted the packet of nutritional liquid and slowly took a sip.
The taste was still strange.
Yet for some reason, amid the wind and snow of Han Chuan, it seemed much easier to swallow than it had at first.
Perhaps because he knew that, just like the marching pills and nourishing powder, this thing was a path to survival sent from a distant world.
When night fell once more, Han Chuan finally had no more people freezing to death.
It was only a small step.
But to a city that had already nearly lost hope, that step was precious enough.
In the abandoned storeroom behind the government office, Xiao Yuan once again looked toward the unopened door.
He knew this path could not be used frequently.
He also knew that every time the door opened, danger would draw closer.
Yet the voice of that child in front of the porridge station asking, “Will there be more after I finish?” remained in his ears.
Xiao Yuan closed his eyes, raised his hand, and pressed it against the door ring in empty space.
White light seeped out once more.
The lamplight of Guichen House appeared on the other side.
Su Muchen was sitting behind the counter just as he had been the previous night, with new forms and a pile of seed information spread before him. When he saw Xiao Yuan appear, his first words were still:
“Did anyone die today?”
Xiao Yuan looked at him.
After a moment, he said quietly, “No.”
The hand holding Su Muchen’s pen relaxed slightly.
In that instant, he did not smile or say anything beautiful. He merely lowered his head and wrote a line on the form.
—On the first day in Han Chuan, there were no new deaths from freezing or starvation.
After finishing, he raised his head and looked at Xiao Yuan.
“Then we continue.”
Xiao Yuan looked at him, and the cold wind and snow in his eyes finally dispersed somewhat.
“Okay.”
At one end of the door was Han Chuan’s dilapidated storeroom; at the other was Guichen House beneath its dim yellow lamplight.
The five-day path to survival was still not over.
But at least on the first day, they had pulled the people one step back from the brink of death.