Chapter 47: Action

As the discussions in the room began to quiet, Chief Officer Li Cheng addressed the assembly, his voice grave. “We’ve received critical information. Qiu Manlai, please share it with everyone.”

Qiu Manlai nodded, his expression somber as he began relaying the situation. “Our intelligence indicates a series of catastrophic events lasting at least three years, beginning with the global rainfall on March 9th, 2258.”

A murmur of disbelief rippled through the crowd, the shock palpable in the air.

Qiu Manlai waited for the room to settle before continuing, his words measured and deliberate. “Currently, we are experiencing global rainfall projected to continue for approximately half a year. This will devastate agricultural yields, resulting in a near-total loss of the summer grain harvest.”

He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. “Regrettably, the rainfall marks only the beginning. Approximately six months from now, a severe drought will take hold. Fields will remain barren, and countless lives will be lost to dehydration.”

His voice dropped to a whisper. “But even the drought is not the end…”

By the time Qiu Manlai finished, faces throughout the room had paled, the horror of the situation etched into their features. The images of struggle and suffering he painted were terrifying, the future he described almost too bleak to comprehend.

One attendee managed to ask, his voice shaking, “Are you certain this information is reliable? Could it be…”

Qiu Manlai met the speaker’s fear-filled eyes, his gaze unwavering. “Our sources indicated that the Miris volcano in Lan Country would erupt on April 25th, followed by the May 1st explosion of the Kayaton chemical plant in Hill Country.”

Li Cheng interjected, his voice firm. “We should await further news to confirm these claims. However, be prepared – Qiu Manlai has already proven himself qualified. Should events unfold as predicted, we will reconvene immediately. Until then, the utmost confidentiality is essential.”

The conference hall remained cloaked in a heavy silence, the weight of the future pressing down on them all.

Finally, on May 1st, news broke of the Kayaton chemical plant explosion. The final grim milestone had been reached, leaving the assembly with a chilling certainty. It was as if everyone let out a breath they’d been holding for weeks, the reality of the situation sinking in like a lead weight.

Chief Officer Li Cheng immediately reconvened the meeting with the previous attendees. While Qiu Manlai technically lacked the rank for inclusion, his firsthand information made him a vital resource for suggestions and clarifying details.

“This confirmation requires immediate preparation to safeguard our people to the best of our ability!” Li Cheng declared, his voice ringing with gravity.

He paused, his brow furrowed in thought. “Qiu Manlai’s report highlights food as the primary future threat. Unfortunately, our current situation limits direct grain acquisition. Thankfully, Qinghua has emergency reserves to sustain us for at least a year or two.”

A voice piped up from the back of the room. “We cannot wholly depend on emergency rations. Those are lifelines. Shortages will extend beyond food – even plentiful resources must be conserved, as none of us knows the disaster’s duration.”

Another attendee chimed in, his tone urgent. “The global rains have alerted many nations to the importance of food. We should minimize overt action in that area.”

“This crisis presents an opportunity,” a third voice added, a note of calculation in their words. “While other nations grapple with the situation, we should discreetly import critical supplies.”

Li Cheng nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Correct. Energy sources like coal, oil and so on remain vital, as do chemical raw materials.”

“Clothing and footwear may seem less urgent,” another attendee mused, “but societal disruptions will be widespread. Farmers driven by hunger may abandon cotton for wheat, failing at both crops. Lack of cotton means no cloth for warmth, leading to potential deaths in harsh weather.”

“Fortunately, Qinghua’s recent prosperity means citizens are generally well-fed and clothed. Food is the immediate concern. If we encourage frugality, current textile provisions should be sufficient in the early stages.”

Li Cheng paused in reflection, his gaze sweeping over the room. “This crisis will impact us all, regardless of rank. All fifteen individuals here, barring Qiu Manlai, represent families of considerable influence.”

He leaned forward, his voice low and intense. “For the sake of Qinghua, I urge you to leverage your family’s resources to import as many supplies as possible under private pretexts. Domestically, the government will support your efforts.”

A murmur of surprise rippled through the room, but Li Cheng continued, undeterred. “Five percent of imported goods may be retained for your families. The remainder must be surrendered to the national treasury for the good of the people. Self-interest is natural, but we cannot survive this alone. Our positions demand unwavering loyalty to Qinghua.”

He sighed, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. “Do you consider this feasible?”

The others nodded, determination etched into their features. “We can mobilize more manpower…”

“Excessive activity will attract foreign scrutiny and risk leaks domestically,” Li Cheng cautioned. “Moderation is key.”

After the discussion subsided, Qiu Manlai raised his hand hesitantly, his voice tentative. “I… remembered something else.”

“Go on!” Li Cheng urged, his interest piqued.

“After the rains end, surviving plants seem to grow abnormally well. Fruit trees, for instance, produce double or more their usual yield. It’s very strange.”

Li Cheng frowned, his mind racing. “How is that possible?”

A leader with agricultural knowledge pondered, his voice thoughtful. “Could the continuous rain have prevented field cultivation? Implanted seeds would wash away, while established fruit trees might thrive in this global rainfall?”

“But some vegetables have rotted in the fields, haven’t they?” someone countered, their tone skeptical.

Qiu Manlai added, his voice hesitant. “My information suggests that early on, many plants die, but later they adapt and even flourish. Maybe the environment changed them.”

“Does this mean that if we could plant grain, the yield would also double?” an attendee asked, hope creeping into their voice.

“The challenge remains – how do we sow seeds in these conditions?” another countered, frustration evident in their tone.

“If it’s too rainy to plant outside, can’t we dig up soil and plant indoors?” a third voice suggested, desperation coloring their words.

“Think of the manpower and resources required!” someone argued, their voice rising in agitation. “Indoor yields might not double the same way – you could end up with nothing.”

“Damn it, we’re in a crisis, not a cost analysis!” another attendee snapped, their patience wearing thin. “A chance for food is worth any risk right now.”

At this point, Li Cheng interrupted, his voice cutting through the rising tension. “Right now, the most crucial task is to determine the cause of the doubled fruit yields. Is it the rain, the soil, or another factor? The research institute needs to prioritize this analysis and deliver results promptly.”

He paused, his expression grave. “The fate of Qinghua, and perhaps the world, may depend on it.”