Yang Xiande seemed to think of something again. He turned to look at the preserved fruit processing factory on the southeast slope for a moment, and said to the two xylophones, I think that several poor villages outside the mountain have reached the point of exhaustion. Even if you sell your wife and cubs, you won't be able to make up the money to buy oil. You are good people to the end, shake the cash cow in your village again, and even out some money, and relieve those lazy and poor worms, which can be regarded as accumulating virtue and doing good. As soon as the drought passes, I will give your village a grand notice and commendation. At the end of the year, no matter what the card is, your village can't fall behind. As for whether the individual is advanced, it's up to you to choose. Take whichever you like, whatever you want.

Feng'er couldn't help but interject, don't, the funds in the factory are also pitifully tight. I just bought the fruit, and it's so tight that it's hard to even pay my salary, so how can I get it?

Yang Xiande didn't allow Feng'er to complain about his grievances, and he was categorical, so he did it. Considering that your village also has difficulties, you will no longer bear more responsibilities, and only be responsible for those five poor and broken villages. Tonight, ask the people of the town finance office to calculate the number. Ming'er, you just hand the money to the town. This is life-saving money, and I can't afford to delay.

Yang Xiande's words stunned Muqin and Feng'er, and they no longer dared to argue. The two of them were afraid that Yang Xiande would come up with some new tricks, so they would open their mouths and bite the fat of Xinghua Village.

Standing on the pond dam built in the north of the village, a few people raised their eyes and caught a glimpse of the immortal temple, as well as the swaying figures in front of the immortal temple and the green smoke rising from the temple.

Yang Xiande asked casually, what's the matter, the incense in the temple is quite prosperous.

Feng'er heard that Yang Xiande changed the topic, and no longer entangled in the matter of gratuitous relief, and immediately answered, yes, that is, in the past few days. People from outside the mountains came here to burn incense and pray for rain.

Yang Xiande said to himself, interesting, interesting. Your village is a treasure of feng shui. There are mountains, rivers, and capable people, and even the gods are different. Good, good, there is resource potential to dig deep and find it.

Muqin and Feng'er looked at each other for a long time, not understanding what Yang Xiande's idea was about to fight the village.

After patrolling for most of the afternoon, Yang Xiande led several town cadres from his entourage to the processing plant again, but he walked around vigorously for most of the day to inspect the work of the factory on the spot. After being crooked by Tian'er, under the humility of Muqin, Feng'er and others, they raised their legs and sat in the clean canteen room.

Xu was in a good mood, Yang Xiande and his entourage drank some wine under the hospitality of the xylophone, and after lunch, they left the mute xylophone and Feng'er and others who ate coptis chinensis, and secretly left the village. They rushed non-stop to the front line of drought relief outside the mountains.

Yang Xiande's trip to Xinghua Village, which came empty-handed and returned with a full load, had both spiritual comfort and material satisfaction. The bitterness only made the people of Xinghua Village bitter, not only giving away the sweet water that they had carefully stored, but also having to take the vehicle freight and the diesel cost of five poor villages. In Feng'er's words, our village is a piece of Tang monk meat, and whoever catches it will have to bite it, whether he is willing or not.

When he said this, the sun was still clear and scorching outside, and the wind did not move, and there was no cloud. The foreign bank has been carrying water out of the mountains four times a day for more than ten days. The diesel fuel bill for those five villages has also been almost spent. In exchange for such a large cost, five clumsy and rough pennants hand-sewn by the villages from red cotton cloth were hung high on the north wall of the village office. [End of Chapter]