The Capitalist’s Spoiled Young Master? Perfect to Take Home as a Husband Chapter 143

Perhaps it was because Song Nianchu's expression was too composed and detached that the remaining three n didn't dare step forward, even retreating a few steps instead.

Seeing their cowardly appearance, Song Nianchu snorted coldly. She swept her gaze over the other refugees who were watching and raised her voice.

"We are accepting you based on the arrangents from the organization and in line with the principles of mutual aid, solidarity, and camaraderie. However, we only welco comrades who share our goal of building our ho together. If anyone dares to cause trouble or harbors improper intentions, we will not show leniency. Once discovered, they will be publicly nad within the village. If they fail to correct themselves, the matter will be reported to the brigade, and they will be expelled from the village!"

Song Nianchu's words were firm and forceful, and combined with her earlier actions, everyone present held their breath, not daring to make a sound.

Such a slender young woman had thrown Zhou Ziqiang to the ground in an instant. How could any of them be a match for her?

"If anyone objects to what I've said, you may leave now and ask the brigade to rearrange your placent. If you stay, you must abide by our village's rules from now on. I'm giving you this chance to leave. Those who wish to go may do so now." After speaking, Song Nianchu glanced at Zhou Ziqiang, who was still lying on the ground unable to get up, and his few companions.

"Do you want to leave?" Seeing their silence, Song Nianchu specifically asked them.

"...No!" Zhou Ziqiang gritted his teeth.

He had inquired around; this Qinghe Fishing Village was known to have the best conditions.

"Since you're staying, I'll assu you have clearly understood our rules. For your act of bullying villagers earlier, you are now given one public village notice and your grain ration will be halved. Do you accept this?" Song Nianchu looked down at the man on the ground from her superior position.

"...I accept!" Zhou Ziqiang spoke through clenched teeth, forcing the word out.

This woman was genuinely strong. He hadn't even reacted before she gave him a shoulder throw.

Moreover, his arm was still throbbing with pain. Based on his experience, even if it wasn't broken, it was probably fractured.

"Since you accept, then line up properly to receive your grain," Song Nianchu said coldly.

The four n hurriedly helped Zhou Ziqiang up and got in line to collect grain from Wu Gang.

Seeing their compliance, Song Nianchu said nothing more and sat back down on her chair.

"Next."

Those still stunned by the earlier events were pulled back to reality by her call and quickly stepped forward.

The people who followed seed thoroughly intimidated by Song Nianchu's formidable display. The subsequent registration and grain distribution proceeded very smoothly.

In less than half a day, Song Nianchu's side had completed registering all the refugees.

Now, everyone stood in the open space holding their grain, waiting for Song Nianchu's further instructions.

"There are many of you, and the village cannot imdiately provide housing for everyone. However, we can first allocate each person a plot of land. You can set up temporary tents on your plots. Later, by participating in the village's collective labor and eting the work-point standards, we will assist in building houses for you," Song Nianchu announced, holding the register in her hand.

"You an you'll build houses for us?" Everyone looked surprised.

Building a house wasn't cheap. The best they had hoped for was being assigned so dilapidated, unsafe houses, or perhaps just being given tents to live in as before.

"Yes. As long as you actively participate in collective labor, both grain and houses will be provided," Song Nianchu stated firmly.

"You ntioned eting work-point standards. How many work points are needed for a house to be built?" soone asked eagerly.

For ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍Chinese people, a house represents roots. Only with a house can one have a sense of belonging; otherwise, it feels like forever drifting at sea.

"The specific standards will be posted tomorrow. You can check them at the village office then," Song Nianchu replied.

"Can we go choose our plots now?" soone asked timidly.

"Yes. Households will be allocated land area based on family size," Song Nianchu confird.

Afterward, Song Nianchu led the hundred refugees to the hills behind the village, following her register.

There were large stretches of vacant land there, but the soil was poor and rocky, unsuitable for farming. It had been left unused all these years, perfect for settling these refugees.

Though there were a hundred people, they actually broke down into just fifteen households.

Basically, each household had six to seven people, which wasn't considered large for this era. It was likely many had perished during the difficult journey of escape.

All fifteen households received their allocated plots. Song Nianchu then called on villagers to help them set up so temporary tents.

There were vast bamboo groves on the mountain. They used locally sourced bamboo to create a frawork, then secured it with bamboo leaves and so tarpaulin, forming a basic temporary shelter.

All the able-bodied young n from the village pitched in, and with the refugees helping themselves, by nightfall, all fifteen tents were completed.

Considering it was their first day in the village, Song Nianchu had a large pot of communal al prepared for them.

It was essentially coarse rice cooked with potatoes, sweet potatoes, and leafy greens into a big pot of mixed congee.

But for refugees who had been hungry for a long ti, it was a rare treat.

The hot congee ward their bodies, and their fear of Song Nianchu gradually eased a little.

They also began to believe her promise that as long as they didn't cause trouble, the village would provide them with grain and houses.

That night, the refugees enjoyed a rare good sleep.

However, in the most lopsided and crooked tent at the very edge, Zhou Ziqiang lay on dry grass, groaning incessantly.

Song Nianchu had said that since they were strong and healthy enough to pick fights, they should build their own tent.

But out of the five, two were injured, and the remaining three were rather scrawny. After much effort, they had only managed to erect this small, crooked shelter.

"That damned woman! I'll make her pay!" Zhou Ziqiang cursed through gritted teeth, one hand rubbing his aching back.

"Boss, that woman seems unusual. Not just us, even the villagers listen to her. Maybe we shouldn't cause trouble for her," one man ventured timidly.

"You spineless coward!" Zhou Ziqiang grabbed a stone nearby and hurled it. The man failed to dodge, and his forehead was cut, bleeding.

He didn't dare fight back, just covered his head and silently shuffled aside.

"That woman just needs to be taught a lesson. Once I get my hands on her, she'll learn that the man is the master of the house!" Zhou Ziqiang snarled.

The man opened his mouth, wanting to say sothing, but fearing another throw, he swallowed his words.

He had a strong feeling that if they continued to harbor ill intentions toward Song Nianchu, they would only bring more suffering upon themselves.

anwhile, Song Nianchu was sitting at her desk, writing and drawing.

"What are you drawing?" Mu Shi'an asked, entering after his bath.