Chapter 36: Years of Famine (I)

After Yang Zhao left Chang’an, the topic of famine, which had been hotly discussed in streets and alleys, soon faded away. Without anything interesting to talk about, the people of the Great Wall naturally wouldn’t waste their precious time worrying about the drought in Hedong. After all, droughts had occurred in every dynasty, and in the end, the government would release grain, solving the people’s food problems. In the eyes of these Chang’an residents, this famine in Hedong was merely a minor farce in the prosperous Tang Dynasty.

It wasn’t until half a month later, when large numbers of disaster victims from Hedong flooded into Guanzhong, that the people of Chang’an realized the severity of the drought. They just couldn’t understand why, even though the government had opened its granaries to release grain, these victims still had to leave their homes and warm beds to flee in search of food.

As the situation worsened, reports of disasters also came from Henan Road, which bordered Hedong Road, followed by droughts in Hebei Road. What had seemed like a minor farce to the people of Chang’an turned into a widespread famine affecting the entire Tang Dynasty. Everyone swallowed hard, wondering how much brown rice was left in their own rice jars and whether they should buy some millet in advance for the New Year.

Although the government repeatedly claimed that the drought was limited to certain counties, the people of Chang’an trusted their own eyes. They saw more and more disaster victims gathering outside the city walls, with ugly, makeshift shacks appearing out of nowhere, swaying in the wind as if mocking the majestic capital of Chang’an. When gusts blew, a foul smell spread through the air, making people feel nauseous. Below the city walls, people died every day, yet more arrived daily. One shack collapsed, and another was built in its place…

A few days later, the government seemed to realize the seriousness of the situation and sent the vice minister of the Ministry of Revenue to urgently fetch grain from the imperial stores to make porridge for relief outside the city. However, two servings of thin porridge a day were barely enough to satisfy hunger, and those who arrived too late might not even get a sip of rice soup. Some strong men might manage to grab several bowls of porridge, but the old, weak, women, and children suffered, watching their fellow villagers rush at the porridge stalls like beasts, clutching chipped earthen bowls to fight over that life-saving food.

The city gate, so close yet seemingly impenetrable, resembled a gaping maw, devouring the victims’ hopes. It was absolutely impossible to open the gate. Ever since the disaster victims from Hedong arrived outside Chang’an, the government had imposed strict martial law—under no circumstances could they let the victims enter Chang’an and disrupt the normal order of the capital. As for whether these victims could eat enough or suffer from cold, that was not something the gatekeepers cared about.

The Tongwu, Zhenwu, and Xiongwu battalions were stationed not far outside the city. The Tongwu battalion, the closest to the city walls, was even only three or four li away from the disaster victims’ shacks. Seeing so many fellow villagers suffering, the veterans of the three battalions naturally felt distressed. Eventually, at the urging of Captain Wang Xiaochun, the core members of the three battalions entered the city and requested their commanders to prepare porridge to aid the disaster victims.

Upon hearing Wang Xiaochun’s report, Li Kuo grew worried. Using the military rations of the three battalions to help the disaster victims was certainly inappropriate, but he couldn’t just stand by and watch the people in Hedong starve to death. After much deliberation, he decided to work with a few friends to provide aid to the victims in their personal capacity.

Once he had made up his mind, the young man went straight to Su Jinghong, the eldest son of Su’s Rice Shop. As soon as he expressed his idea, Su Jinghong applauded in approval and agreed to sell japonica rice to Li Kuo at a low price for use in helping the disaster victims.

Although the amount of grain obtained in this way was still minimal compared to the huge number of disaster victims, the young man felt satisfied with his decision. No matter what the wealthy families did or what stingy merchants did by hoarding goods, he would remain true to his conscience.

With grain available, manpower was not a problem. The soldiers of the three battalions worked together, and soon carts laden with grain were heading out of the city.

They set up pots, added firewood, lit the fire, and began cooking porridge.

More and more disaster victims noticed these kind-hearted soldiers and gathered around. Seeing the pot of fragrant porridge with white foam, their confused eyes immediately lit up.

One bowl, two bowls, three bowls…

The victims who received the porridge soon realized that it was much thicker than the porridge provided by the government. The strong aroma of rice moved them to tears.

“Dad, why are we getting porridge here?” asked a little girl around six or seven years old, holding her middle-aged father’s hand.

“The porridge here is thicker—one bowl is worth two. Erya, be good for a while. Dad will get the porridge; don’t run around. Understand?” The middle-aged man gently stroked his daughter’s head, wiped his sooty cheeks with his greasy sleeve, and followed closely behind.

“Don’t rush, don’t rush. Everyone will get their share!” Zhang Yanji, who had been assigned by Li Kuo to help, was now overseeing order near the porridge station with his guards. Those who tried to take more than their share or cheat were caught on the spot and pushed to the back of the line. There were also some scoundrels from Chang’an who came over when they saw the porridge being distributed outside the city. Most of these people were familiar faces; some were recognized by the soldiers, who made them blush with shame. Without any further words from the soldiers, they lowered their heads and left in shame.

“Ah!”
The more forward they went, the denser the crowd became. Erya lost her balance and was knocked to the ground by several strong men.
“Be careful!”
Seeing this, Li Kuo rushed over in an instant to help Erya up.
“Be more careful.”
Li Kuo patted Erya’s shoulder and smiled slightly.
“Big brother, I’m scared!”
Startled by this, Erya burst into tears and threw herself into Li Kuo’s arms.
“It’s okay, don’t be scared.”
Li Kuo patted Erya’s back to comfort her.
“Erya, Erya, Dad’s back with porridge for you!”
A middle-aged man rushed over hearing the crying. Seeing Erya clinging to an officer, he immediately panicked.
“Erya, quickly, let go.”
The middle-aged man grabbed Erya’s arm and tried to pull her away, but she held on tighter, refusing to let go.
“Sir, please understand. This little girl didn’t mean to offend you…”
The middle-aged man sighed and nodded at Li Kuo with a forced smile.
“It’s no problem. She’s probably just scared.”
Li Kuo smiled slightly and said softly, “Tell me, Erya, why did you come to Guanzhong to escape the famine?”
Erya pointed with her finger and said, “There was no food left. So I helped Dad grind elm bark and peanut shells at home and steam them to eat. But it hurt our throats.”
“How could that be? Didn’t the governor of Hedong arrive in Jinyang City long ago to open the granaries and relieve the victims?”
Li Kuo frowned in doubt.
The middle-aged man sighed and said, “Some so-called governor? All I know is that a high-ranking official surnamed Yang came from Xijing. When he arrived in Hedong, he made Lord Pei host a feast to welcome him. Meanwhile, people couldn’t even get tree bark to eat, yet he still had time to indulge in delicacies in his mansion.”
After a pause, he continued, “Hedong has been suffering from a severe drought. There hasn’t been a drop of rain for three months since summer began, and the best wheat crops have withered away. Then there was an locust plague. The villagers waited and waited until they finally saw this imperial envoy arrive. They stared at the city gates, hoping to see a notice about releasing grain from the granaries. But who would have thought…”
“Brother, what’s wrong? Speak slowly, ah.”
Li Kuo sensed something was off and asked gently.
“This imperial envoy is said to be very good at calculating. The granaries were opened, and grain was released, but there wasn’t much rice left in people’s jars. With such small rice measures, how much can each person get? Why are the scoops so big when collecting tax grain? If it were in previous years, it might not matter, but this is a time of famine. After the great hunger, there’s now a locust plague—how are people supposed to survive?”

The man beside him also complained, “Yes, there are a few iron pots in the east part of the city, where they pretend to distribute porridge as relief every day. How many people in the states east of the river have been affected? That little amount of rice is good for nothing. You haven’t seen how thin that porridge is—if there are a few grains of brown rice floating in a bowl, that’s already good. It’s nothing like the thick porridge you people from good families have. Good people get good rewards; good people really do.”

“When the tree bark ran out, everyone started eating wild grass. But some people, lacking experience, ate poisonous grass and their faces swelled up. Their nostrils and eye corners turned black, and their limbs became weak and limp. People died every day—today it was Xiao Si who starved to death, tomorrow someone heard that a woman died after accidentally eating poisonous grass, and the day after that, Er Mu was found dead beside the stone mill at the village entrance…”

The middle-aged man sighed and said slowly, “Everyone thinks that this imperial envoy doesn’t dare release all the grain, fearing he’ll be blamed for wasting the emperor’s provisions. But we still need to survive, so we fled from Jinyang Prefecture all the way to Guanzhong. Everyone says there’s grain stored here in Guanzhong, but who knew we still can’t get enough to eat?”

The burly man took over the conversation, “It’s still manageable now, but once autumn comes and the weather gets colder, it’ll be hard to even find a place to keep warm. As for the older ones, it’s uncertain whether they can make it through this winter.”

“Brother Kuo, this is too much. I told you, this Yang Zhao isn’t the kind of person who does real work…”

Zhang Yanji couldn’t stand such scenes any longer; he clenched his fists and said angrily.

“Brother, how many people like you have fled here?”

Li Kuo’s heart sank as he thought about his next move.

“It’s hard to say. In our village, out of about a hundred households, nine out of ten have fled the disaster. Hearing there was porridge available in Jinyang, they all rushed there, only to find that there was no truth to it. Now that we’ve arrived in the capital, we thought that since we’re under the emperor’s rule, at least they’d give us a bowl of rice. After all, with so many people dying of hunger right under the emperor’s nose, it must be embarrassing for him, right?”

Note 1: Droughts often lead to locust plagues.