Before long, a delicate and fair-skinned young lady, dressed in a light blue gown, gracefully stepped down from the carriage.

Behind her, five mule carts loaded with large wooden barrels followed closely.

The porridge had already been cooked in advance for convenience and was transported in these barrels.

With the help of over a dozen servants, the heavy barrels filled with porridge were carefully lifted down.

The young lady personally oversaw the distribution, ensuring that the porridge reached the refugees.

To maintain order, she had brought along several guards to watch over the crowd.

Judging by the skillful way she ladled out the porridge, it was evident that this was not her first time doing such charitable work.

“Village chief, let’s go queue up and get some porridge too,” someone from the village suggested, growing eager upon seeing the distribution.

The village chief hesitated, unsure whether they should join the line.

However, Shen Qingwan stopped them. “We still have food supplies. We shouldn’t take food meant for those who have nothing left.”

She wasn’t trying to be a saint.

The villagers still had food, and she had bought a large amount of aged rice and coarse grains from the city.

Even when those were used up, she would find ways to secure more supplies for them.

There was no need to take the porridge meant for the truly desperate.

After all, the young lady had brought only five carts of porridge, and it was clear that there wouldn’t be enough for everyone.

That meant some people would inevitably go without.

So why should they compete with those who needed it the most?

The village chief looked at the long queue and abandoned the idea of lining up. “It’s probably too late to get a portion now anyway. The eldest daughter-in-law is right—our grain stores are still sufficient, and we shouldn’t take away someone else’s last chance at survival.”

The villagers took another look at the refugees—many were so emaciated that their bones protruded, some were too weak to even stand, and others lay motionless on the roadside, completely ignored.

Some of them didn’t even have the strength to get in line for porridge, while others, knowing they wouldn’t be able to compete, had already given up hope.

Hearing Shen Qingwan and the village chief’s words, the villagers gave up on the idea of getting porridge.

Meanwhile, Shen Qingwan continued watching the distribution area.

The young lady serving the porridge was truly admirable—not only was she beautiful, but she also had great patience.

Despite the stench coming from the refugees, she showed no sign of disgust.

It was clear that her kindness was genuine.

Even the porridge she provided was thick and hearty—just one bowl would be filling enough.

Soon, a large barrel of porridge was emptied, but the line only grew longer.

Clearly, there wasn’t enough to go around.

Shen Qingwan noticed that some of the people lining up weren’t truly in desperate need of food.

Those who were stronger and more able-bodied pushed ahead, while the weakest and most starving, unable to move quickly, were left at the back of the line.

There were two queues, and some of the men in line eyed the young lady with less than honorable intentions.

Some made crude remarks about her appearance, while others leered at her openly.

One rough-looking man with a scruffy beard grinned lasciviously and reached out to grab the young lady’s hand.

Startled, she dropped the ladle into the barrel and quickly stepped back.

Just as she was about to order someone to remove him, a figure suddenly appeared and kicked the man to the ground, spilling his bowl of porridge.

“You filthy dog! You dare harass my sister? Do you even know what you are?”

The newcomer was a handsome young man dressed in fine silk robes, with a jade belt around his waist and a jade crown on his head.

Clearly, he was a nobleman.

“Zhengyang!” the young lady exclaimed, recognizing her younger brother.

Jin Zhengyang waved his hand, ordering the servants to drive the man away.

Then, he turned to his sister, his expression stern.

“Sis, you can’t be too soft with these people. If you are, they’ll just take advantage of you.”

His brow furrowed, giving him the look of an untouchable little tyrant.

“I understand,” Jin Qianqian said gently. “Just wait nearby, Zhengyang. Once we’re done distributing the porridge, we’ll go home.”

Jin Zhengyang, only thirteen or fourteen years old, was already decisive in his actions.

He glanced at the long queue, then at the starving refugees lying weakly on the ground.

His sister truly wanted to help those who were on the verge of death, not the strong and able-bodied ones who still had the energy to harass her.

“If we’re giving out porridge, then I’ll add something extra,” he muttered.

With that, he grabbed a handful of yellow dirt from the ground and tossed it into the porridge, stirring it in.

“Zhengyang, what are you doing?” Jin Qianqian gasped in shock.

Her brother, though hot-tempered, was not usually unreasonable.

Why was he ruining the porridge?

Jin Zhengyang ignored her and continued sprinkling dirt into the remaining barrels.

The people in line erupted in anger.

“How could you waste food like this? Now we can’t eat it!”

“Exactly! If your family doesn’t want to donate food, then don’t pretend to be kind. Bringing porridge here and then making it inedible—how cruel!”

The men at the front of the line fumed, pointing fingers at Jin Zhengyang.

But he wasn’t intimidated in the least. Instead, he pointed back at them and shouted, “Eat it if you want! My family’s porridge isn’t meant for people like you. If you don’t want it, then get lost!”

His fiery temper made the troublemakers leave in frustration, bowls still in hand.

Because of the added dirt, many people refused to eat the porridge, and about a third of the queue quickly dispersed.

Shen Qingwan watched the boy’s actions with an amused smile.

What a clever young man.

With just a handful of dirt, he managed to weed out those who weren’t truly desperate. It was a brilliant move.

For those who were truly starving, a bit of dirt in their food meant nothing—they had already resorted to eating clay and tree bark.

As a result, the remaining people in line were those who genuinely needed help.

Those who had previously been too weak to stand saw the shorter line and finally had hope.

Slowly, they struggled to their feet and joined the queue.

For those who didn’t have bowls, Jin Qianqian even provided them with one.

At first, she had been shocked by her brother’s actions. But after seeing the result, she immediately understood.

No wonder their father always said Zhengyang was clever. Coming up with such a simple yet effective solution truly proved his intelligence.