My Courtyard Shelter

Chapter 25: Relief Funds

That evening, long-missed lights illuminated the Siheyuan, and the air conditioner began humming once again. However, due to time constraints, not much electricity had been stored during the day, so to conserve power, the alcohol stove would have to “work overtime” for one more night. Generally speaking, each square meter of Han-style roof tiles generates about 1 kilowatt of electricity per day, which is equivalent to 1 kilowatt-hour. The total area of Han-style roof tiles originally installed on the Siheyuan was approximately 290 square meters. After accounting for charging and discharging cycles as well as energy conversion efficiency, this meant the Siheyuan had roughly 220 kilowatt-hours of electricity available for normal use each day. Of course, this is the most ideal scenario; it’s impossible for Yanjing to have sunny weather every day, and there’s also a huge difference in power generation between summer and winter. In short, solar power isn’t a panacea, so it’s still best to conserve electricity whenever possible. With electricity restored, the Xu Dong family’s life gradually returned to normal, though the convenience store remained closed. On February 23, at 10:15 a. m. , the Daxia authorities finally announced to the nation through various channels: The Sun's flare had ended, and large-scale post-disaster reconstruction efforts were about to begin nationwide. On February 25, the Yanjing City Post-Disaster Reconstruction Committee officially announced to the public: Due to the extent of damage to power infrastructure far exceeding expectations, power restoration in the capital region would not be completed until the 5th of next month at the earliest. As expected, upon hearing this “devastating news,” the entire Greater Capital region was plunged into a sea of discontent. The original seven days of staying at home, plus three days of post-disaster assessments, had already pushed people to their limit. This “limit” referred not only to mental endurance but also to material resources—meaning that people’s daily supplies were nearly depleted. In fact, it’s not that daily necessities are scarce on the market; rather, everyone is running out of money. You heard that right—“no money” means exactly that: literally no money; people have no cash left to spend. Last year, the adoption rate of electronic payments in Daxia surpassed 90% for the first time, and cash had already become a rare sight in daily life. Now, with no power and no internet, electronic payments have completely ground to a halt. To be honest, the inability to use electronic payments isn’t even the worst part. The worst part is that people can’t even withdraw the money they have in the bank—though this is only temporary. The reason is simple: power hasn’t been restored to the banks either. And it’s not just the power—the various servers and systems within the banks all require time to be reconfigured. Restoring banking operations is no easier than restoring the power grid. So, this has become a dead end. Fortunately, the government responded quickly, and a relief package covering all citizens was soon officially unveiled and passed by Congress in an emergency session. The entire process took less than a day. The content of this relief package was simple: money would be distributed to all citizens—regardless of wealth, age, or skin color—with each person receiving 1,000 yuan, provided they held Daxia citizenship or a green card. The program was designed to alleviate citizens’ cash flow crises and support their daily expenses. As soon as the news broke, the outcry instantly turned into widespread jubilation. Subsequently, the claim procedure was announced: Households should present their household registration book at the neighborhood office or village committee corresponding to their registered address to claim the relief funds. As for those working or residing elsewhere, they could use their ID card or household registration booklet as collateral to borrow the corresponding amount of relief funds. Ultimately, this measure was intended to prevent “unscrupulous individuals” from fraudulently claiming relief funds multiple times; after all, without an internet connection, it is simply impossible to synchronize information. On February 27, Yanjing officially began distributing the relief funds. At 8:00 a. m. —more than an hour before the distribution was set to begin—Mrs. Xu couldn’t wait any longer and headed out with her new household registration booklet to join the line. Xu Dong tried time and again to stop her and persuade her otherwise—after all, the family had everything they needed, and collecting the money later would be just the same; the relief funds weren’t going to fly away. Unfortunately, nothing he said made a difference. This was the first time in her life that Mrs. Xu had benefited so greatly from the government, and with a family of nine, this was no small sum—it was better to secure the money as soon as possible. With no other options, Xu Dong finally played his trump card, offering to take his mother’s place in line to collect the relief funds. Even then, Mrs. Xu wouldn’t agree. As she put it, she absolutely had to go in person to experience a benefit reserved only for “people in developed countries.” Xu Dong was at a loss for words—he could only let her have her way, though he did send her a small stool partway through, figuring sitting was better than suffering while standing. As for Xu’s mom, she really got into the conversation—after all, everyone was just hanging around with nothing to do, and they didn’t even have their phones to play with. “Old Zhang, you’re smiling so beautifully—you must have quite a large family, right?” teased an older woman surnamed Wu, who was about the same age as Mrs. Xu. Mrs. Xu held up nine fingers and said modestly, “Not many, not many—just nine of us.” “That’s still quite a few. Has your family split up yet?” Mrs. Wu speculated. “We did—a long time ago. My husband and I are now living with our youngest son, while our eldest son and our daughter’s family are all in Luyang,” Mrs. Xu replied. A young woman standing nearby was quick on the uptake and immediately exclaimed in surprise, “Then didn’t your youngest daughter-in-law give birth to five children in a row?” “That’s right. My third son has two daughters and three sons,” Mrs. Xu said with a touch of pride. “How did she have so many?” another person chimed in. Mrs. Xu explained, “We didn’t plan on having so many. We didn’t expect the first pregnancy to be twins, and then the second was triplets. When it’s your time to have children, there’s just no stopping it.” “Old Zhang, you’re so blessed,” Aunt Wu said enviously; these days, young people just aren’t willing to have children. That’s exactly the situation in her family—they’d been hoping for years and finally got a granddaughter, but her daughter-in-law refuses to have any more children no matter what. Mrs. Xu had no choice but to “humbly” remark once more: “Having too many kids isn’t good either. Not only is it a lot of work to take care of them, but it’s also a heavy burden down the road—they won’t be able to afford a house, and they won’t even be able to find a spouse. I’m so worried I could die.” No sooner had she finished speaking than the owner of a local restaurant immediately called out Mrs. Xu’s “lie”: “You live in a Siheyuan worth over 100 million yuan—and you’re worried your grandsons won’t be able to find wives? As it happens, I have a three-year-old daughter. If you don’t mind, she could be a bride for Da Bao.” “Whoa!” Auntie Wu was taken aback, then teased, “Old Zhang, I never would’ve guessed you were a rich old lady!” Mrs. Xu spat out, “What a load of crap about being a rich woman! Our house is the only thing of value in our family—we definitely don’t have as much in savings as you do.” “How do you know that? How much do you have in savings?” someone teased. “Yeah, go ahead and tell us. Let us poor folks get a glimpse of the good life.” Unable to resist, Mrs. Xu quickly “begged for mercy,” which made everyone laugh even harder, and only then did the conversation shift to other topics. They stood in line for several hours. Xu Dong brought lunch again at noon, and it wasn’t until a little after 2:00 p. m. that Mrs. Xu finally received her 9,000 yuan in relief funds.