A daily intelligence report; in chaotic times and famine years, grain is plentiful.

Within two days, rumors began to circulate in the village: "That young man from the Chen family is no good either. He drinks porridge made from wild vegetables every day, and he probably won't last much longer."

When this reached Wang Mang's ears, he was skeptical, but he was also relieved.

There was a knocking sound at the gate.

Chen Mo quietly walked to the door and looked out through the crack.

Standing outside the door was none other than Li Laogen, an elderly man from the village.

"Uncle Gen."

"Chen Mo, open the door, it's urgent."

As soon as Li Laogen entered the house, his eyes were immediately drawn to the sumptuous meal laid out on the kang table. He paused for a moment, then a bitter smile appeared on his face.

"Today when I went to town, I saw this 'Donation Notice' posted at the entrance of the county government office."

"They say it's a year of great disaster, and wealthy households in each village are asked to donate grain for disaster relief. Our village was allocated 100 jin of grain. Wang Laoqi just called us old folks over and said... this grain should be distributed according to each family's land area."

Chen Mo's brows furrowed instantly.

"Apportioned per mu (unit of land area)? How much should I pay for my two mu of land?"

"Five catties." Li Laogen sighed softly. "Wang Laoqi said that at this time, no household can produce grain. If they can't produce grain, they will use land as collateral."

"He asked me to pass on a message to you: deliver five catties of grain to his house within three days, or... he'll use your two mu of land to offset the amount of the donation."

Chen Mo clenched his fist tightly.

What a cunning old man Wang Laoqi! What a legal robbery!

If we can't do it openly, we'll use the county government's authority as a pretext.

After seeing Li Laogen off, Chen Mo returned to the house.

Chen Ling'er's face turned pale, and she tugged at his clothes in fear.

"Brother, is our land... going to be taken away?"

Chen Mo looked at his sister's terrified expression, then at his father on the kang (a heated brick bed) whose face was full of worry.

Finally, his gaze fell towards the cellar.

There, the Wang family's death warrant is hidden.

He suddenly laughed, but it was a cold laugh.

"It can be saved."

He reached out and embraced his sister, his voice low but resolute.

"Not only will I be able to protect it, but I'll also make the Wang family... suffer in silence."

After Li Laogen left, Chen Mo closed the door and frowned under the oil lamp.

Chen Ling'er looked at his face, feeling a little panicked: "Brother, five catties of grain...do we have enough?"

Chen Mo nodded and said, "Yes, we do, but what about next time? The Wang family will do everything they can to come back and demand it again."

On the kang (heated brick bed), Chen Dashan coughed twice and slowly sat up. "Mo'er, I know you've hidden grain, but this time it's an order from the county government, and we can't openly defy it." He looked at Chen Mo and said, "We have to take it out, but there's a way."

Chen Mo understood his father's intention: to make others see that the Chen family had gone to great lengths to gather such a quantity of grain. This way, they could complete the task while continuing to feign poverty and complain about their plight—a method that concerned their lives.

After thinking for a while, he took out five catties of the worst wheat grains from the cellar, the kind that was mixed with a lot of bran and clods of dirt. Then he had Sun Dazhu spread the word in the village that the Chen family had sold their last bit of savings to get these five catties of grain, and that when they handed over the grain, they opened the grain bags in public so that everyone could see how pitiful their family was.

The next morning, just as the sky was beginning to lighten, that familiar notification sound rang in my mind.

[Daily information has been updated, please select:]

[1. In the deepest part of the Qingshui River, beneath the ice of the backwater, there is a large grass carp that has been overwintering. It weighs about eight pounds and is moving slowly due to lack of oxygen. (Low risk, a large hole needs to be made in the thick ice)]

[Second, in a shady spot on the back of the mountain, there is a rock face where wild goats lick salt. Approximately three pounds of natural saltpeter have accumulated in the crevices of the rock face. (Medium risk, steep rock face)]

[Third, on the beams of the old ancestral hall in the village, there are old nests where swallows used to live. The old nests are filled with fragments of swallow's nest. Although there are not many, they are very nutritious. (High risk, the ancestral hall is very sacred, and climbing up is dangerous)]

An eight-pound grass carp! Chen Mo's eyes lit up instantly. Meat could save a life at this moment, especially a live fish.

Without hesitation, he chose [Information 1]. Immediately, an image appeared in his mind: a fish about the length of an arm swimming slowly beneath the ice, its gill covers opening and closing.

Chen Mo immediately stood up, called Sun Dazhu, and the two of them brought along modified tools, a pickaxe, thick hemp rope, a broken fishing net, and a wooden bucket, which Chen Mo had prepared the day before.

The ice in the center of the Qingshui River was more than a foot thick. Two people took turns chiseling it out. With each strike of the pickaxe, ice shards flew everywhere. It took them a full half hour to create a large ice hole about three feet square.

Ice water kept surging up, the cold air was bone-chilling, and Sun Dazhu rubbed his hands together while breathing on them.

Chen Mo sank the fishing net underwater, his eyes fixed on the ice hole. According to the system screen, he knew the fish would come, so he waited patiently.

After an incense stick had burned, the water surface rippled, and a fish's dorsal fin emerged from the water, breathing oxygen at the entrance of the hole.

Sun Dazhu's hands trembled with excitement: "Chen Mo... the fish, the fish is here."

Chen Mo gestured for him to be quiet and stay still. The big grass carp lingered at the entrance of the hole, and finally poked its head out of the water to breathe, just at that moment.

Chen Mo reacted quickly, using a rope to lasso the fish's head and pulling hard.

The fish struggled frantically as it got stuck at the entrance of the ice cave, splashing water everywhere.

After Sun Dazhu realized what was happening, he used a fishing net to scoop up the fish, and then the two of them worked together.

"Rise!" Chen Mo shouted in a low voice.

A large fish weighing eight pounds was pulled onto the ice and thrashed about, its silvery scales shimmering.

Sun Dazhu, panting heavily, said, "Chen Mo... this... this is enough to eat for several days!"

Chen Mo didn't say anything more. The two quickly moved the fish into the wooden bucket and covered it tightly with snow.

He distributed the fish on site, keeping five jin of the middle section for himself and giving three jin to Sun Dazhu, while the head and tail remained.

Sun Dazhu declined, saying, "You did more work, so you should take more."

Chen Mo shook his head and said, "Your father needs to nourish his body; fish head soup is the most nourishing."

Sun Dazhu stopped refusing. He knew Chen Mo was right; fish head soup was indeed very nourishing.

On their way back, they took a longer route, avoiding the villagers. When they passed near the Wang family's house, they heard a strong aroma of stewed meat coming from the courtyard. It seemed that the Wang family was eating meat again.

Sun Dazhu muttered under his breath, "They eat meat every day and force us to donate grain." He clenched his fists tightly.

Chen Mo's eyes turned cold, and he remained silent.

After Chen Mo returned home, he placed the wooden bucket by the stove. Chen Ling'er came closer, and after seeing what was in the bucket, she took a step back in fright. In a trembling voice, she said, "Brother, this fish is huge!"