Chapter 348

Chapter 348: Saving People

The autumn harvest is the most significant event of the year for any village reliant on farming, and Datian Village is no exception.

With 376 households and nearly 2,000 residents, over 90% of the land is dedicated to planting spiritual veins, and the total area of spirit fields exceeds 6,000 acres, yielding an average of about 450 pounds per acre.

This yield surpasses what Wang Chen experienced while farming in the Yunyang Sect, as the land here is more fertile, and the spiritual energy is much richer.

However, spiritual wheat yields only one crop per year, resulting in a noticeably lower annual yield.

According to the rules, out of the 450 pounds harvested, 40% is paid as tribute grain to the Agricultural and Animal Husbandry Department in Wancheng, 20% fills the village’s public treasury, and the remaining 40% is kept by the farmers.

As the village chief, Wang Chen oversaw the autumn harvest and grain collection, working tirelessly for ten days to get everything in order.

This was his first time as a village official, and he lacked an in-depth understanding of the local situation in the West Sea Spiritual Realm. If not for the active assistance of several village elders, he would have certainly found himself in a tangle.

Despite this, Wang Chen was busy every day and had significantly less time for his regular cultivation.

Before he could catch his breath, he discovered a new problem.

A big problem!

The autumn grain had been harvested, and the tribute grain had been delivered in full. However, when Wang Chen went to check the storehouse, he was shocked to find that the grain storehouse built within the ancestral hall was completely empty.

Not a single grain left!

The public treasury’s grain comes entirely from the farmers, collected from the people to be used for the people. In years with poor harvests, this grain helps to supplement the villagers’ rations.

Moreover, the stored grain is also used for public spending, such as repairing roads, digging canals, reclaiming farmland, and so on, all funded with this grain given to the villagers participating in labor.

Under normal circumstances, there is always a certain amount of old grain stored in the public treasury each year.

Last year’s harvest was good, and there were no major labor demands, so the public treasury should have had plenty of grain left.

However, Wang Chen didn’t find even a single grain of spiritual wheat inside!

Wang Chen was grateful that he had opened the public treasury with a few village elders; otherwise, he would have been accused of embezzling public grain!

This is incredibly frustrating!

Upon seeing this situation, the elders of Datian Village looked at each other in dismay, unsure of what to say.

One of the elders coughed and cautiously asked, “Village chief, what do you think we should do?”

The others echoed, “Yes, yes, what should we do?”

Everyone knew that Huang Deqi must have taken the stored grain.

Lord Huang had always managed the public treasury, and he held the keys and accounts.

The storehouse was built strongly and had restrictions in place. If the grain inside had been stolen by someone else, the restrictions would not have remained intact.

The issue is that Huang Deqi had been captured long ago, and there has been no news since, which clearly indicates he is in grave danger.

With no one to hold accountable, it had turned into a muddled debt!

The elders collectively shifted the blame to Wang Chen.

Wang Chen would not take the blame: “I will send a message to the patrol guards to explain the situation, and the accounts for this year’s public treasury will be redone. From now on, you will be responsible for its management.”

Wang Chen suspected that this grain had most likely been given to the Gray Wolf Bandits by Huang Deqi.

This man would stop at nothing to achieve a breakthrough and prolong his life; embezzling public grain was the least of his concerns. He was far too preoccupied with his own cultivation to bother with such trivial matters!

He decided to let the old men deal with their own problems.

The elders had no choice but to shoulder the responsibility, as in Datian Village, only Wang Chen had the final say.

After offloading the burden, Wang Chen could finally focus on his cultivation while awaiting news from Luo Zhen.

As he practiced and waited, the weather grew colder with each passing day, and most of the villagers in Datian Village had donned thick cotton coats.

That afternoon, someone suddenly knocked on the door of the village chief’s residence.

Wang Chen, who was practicing Vajra Fist in the front yard, went to open the courtyard gate.

Standing at the door was a thin, dark-skinned little girl, dressed in tattered clothes and looking utterly exhausted.

When she saw Wang Chen, she jumped back in fright and quickly took a step back, stammering, “V-village chief!”

“I’m not a magical beast. What are you afraid of?”

Wang Chen smiled and asked, “What brings you here?”

“I, I, I…”

The little girl stuttered for a long time without managing to say anything, clearly overwhelmed with anxiety.

She seemed desperate to flee but found herself rooted to the spot for some reason.

“Little Ya?”

Just then, Little He appeared behind Wang Chen and asked in surprise, “What are you doing here?”

The little girl burst into tears: “Little He, please, save my grandfather!”

With that, she dropped to her knees.

“Ah!”

Little He was startled and quickly reached out to help her up.

But Wang Chen was faster. Using his magic, he gently lifted her to her feet: “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Little Ya wiped her tears and, encouraged by Little He’s reassuring gaze, began to sob as she explained.

Her family were hunters and had no land for farming; they relied entirely on hunting and gathering to survive.

Little Ya’s parents had passed away, and her grandfather had raised her along with her younger brother.

To gather enough food for the winter, Little Ya’s grandfather had been venturing into the mountains every day for the past few days, but he had returned empty-handed each time.

Then, that morning, disaster struck.

Her grandfather had returned, dragging his severely injured body, and collapsed at the doorstep of their home.

Little Ya, terrified out of her wits, had mustered all her strength to drag her grandfather inside before rushing to seek help from Little He.

In Datian Village, Little He was the person she trusted the most.

“Take me to him.”

Understanding the urgency, Wang Chen immediately waved his robe sleeve, enveloping Little He and Little Ya.

He activated his magic and soared into the air with the two of them.

Little Ya’s home was located at the northwest corner of Datian Village, near the foot of the mountains—a solitary wooden house.

When Wang Chen arrived with the two girls, they could hear loud sobbing coming from inside the house.

“Grandfather!”

Little Ya, still trembling with fear, rushed into the room as soon as they landed.

Wang Chen followed her inside.

There, an elderly man with white hair lay on a wooden bed, his face covered in blood and unconscious.

By the bedside, a small boy was crying uncontrollably.

Wang Chen stepped forward, pressed his fingers to the old man’s carotid artery, and felt a faint heartbeat. He let out a sigh of relief.

Saving a life was as urgent as putting out a fire. Without hesitation, Wang Chen retrieved a Healing Pill from his storage bag, placed it in the old man’s mouth, and used his magic to guide it into his stomach.

Next, he took out healing powder and sprinkled it over the wounds on the old man’s chest, abdomen, and arm.

After this swift treatment, Little Ya’s grandfather soon regained consciousness.

The Healing Pill Wang Chen had used was no ordinary remedy; its effects were truly remarkable.

It was as if he had snatched a life back from the brink.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Little Ya dropped to her knees and kowtowed to Wang Chen.

This was the only way she knew how to express her profound thanks.