Love letters are not allowed in the exorcism notebook!-Chapter 798 - 45 On the Issue of Deportation and Resettlement

"One bowl of cornmeal porridge per person! Line up properly!"

The head chef of the prison cafeteria shouted loudly, holding a ladle.

In these times, being able to have a bowl of steaming hot cornmeal porridge was already a luxury. Forget about the impoverished families—Wang Yunxiao and his brothers couldn’t even guarantee a meal of cornmeal this time last year.

When people are starved to the point of desperation, even corncobs become edible.

It’s not that the Special Service Bureau couldn’t provide better food. The issue was that this was a bottomless pit. Hundreds of people eating cornmeal three times a day—no one knew how long this was sustainable.

You couldn’t buy grain even if you had money.

A while ago, the grain warehouse outside the city flooded, followed by incidents of grain theft and stockpiling. The grain reserve in Tianmen City had already dipped below the critical threshold.

Sure, there’s still some left, but no one could guarantee smooth sailing for the next year without any accidents.

It wouldn’t be feasible to let everyone eat as much as they wanted today only for there to be no food tomorrow—forcing everyone to band together on Mount Liang as outlaws.

Planning was indispensable.

Wang Yunxiao had Dumpling cook up a pot of eggs and deliver them to He Lan. There was no way she could eat all that on her own, but there were others watching. If they let her eat it alone, it wouldn’t do her or the child any good.

The human heart is hard to fathom.

Talking about morality with people who couldn’t even get enough to eat was, in itself, a form of moral coercion.

The women living in the office now all knew He Lan had cozied up to a military officer. Many of them started entertaining their own schemes, flirting with the prison guards in various ways.

This wasn’t a good sign.

No matter how professional these guards tried to be, they were still men—not monkeys guarding peaches. Who could resist such temptation?

Letting men oversee women—it was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

At a time like this, they should’ve invited women from the Red Lantern Society or the Church to come help out.

But that wasn’t possible—they were busy splitting up their factions.

The government had too much on its plate, and with time being so tight, inevitable conflicts arose between various plans.

Manpower was perpetually scarce. It was scarce before; it’s scarce now.

"Damn it, when are we going to start the deportations?"

Running around non-stop for days, Wang Yunxiao was on the verge of exhaustion.

Only after rolling up his sleeves and diving in did he realize administrative work wasn’t his forte.

Messing up just one small matter would set off fires everywhere—solve one thing, and another would crop up. Not even having eight arms was enough.

If it weren’t for Cheng Xuefei stepping in to take over the prison work, Wang Yunxiao might’ve contemplated ending his misery with a bullet.

On November 4th, the Special Service Bureau convened a meeting with leaders from various departments.

The meeting was chaired by Director Liu from Intelligence. The main topic of discussion—whether these people should be kept or deported.

During these centralized sheltering days, many had already recognized their predicament. Though they couldn’t grasp the full scope of events, they began petitioning, falling to their knees, kowtowing, even writing pleas of blood—all begging not to be sent back.

The life over there was just unbearable.

How bad was it? One sentence sufficed: if they went back, they wouldn’t even have this bowl of cornmeal porridge—it was a road to death.

Not deporting them had its advantages.

First, it saved manpower—saving the Special Service Bureau’s personnel resources.

Not just the Special Service Bureau, but across the three main agencies and the police system, around eighty percent of personnel were tied up in this task. There was barely any bandwidth left to tackle other matters.

Does leaving a problem unresolved mean there’s no problem?

In the past couple of days, Wang Yunxiao hadn’t seen Yan Yu’an. Word had it that Customs had stumbled into some trouble, and he was now too busy to stay still.

Secondly, there were humanitarian concerns to consider.

Simply standing by as these people were sent back to freeze or starve to death went against basic human decency.

If rescuing was impossible—well, that’s understandable.

But if rescuing them was feasible and you chose not to—that would be indefensible.

Situations like Wang Yunxiao’s and He Lan’s weren’t unique—within these hundreds, interpersonal ties were exceedingly convoluted.

Today you don’t save them—what about tomorrow?

Once morale collapses, leading the team becomes an uphill battle.

But the drawbacks of keeping them couldn’t be ignored either.

First, how should these transmigrators be settled? Where to settle them? How to settle them?

Sheltering them on-site wasn’t feasible—the original residents would need their homes back.

You might think adding a wife isn’t a big deal—but what if someone ends up with an extra father?

This was a messy situation, and no one had a solution.

Then, where should they be sent? Ningguta?

Keeping them here might fulfill humanitarian obligations, but what if it disrupted the space-time stability of this world?

If they were settled now, what about later? What happens if more transmigrators show up—would they follow the precedent?

The room was filled with debates, a heap of unresolved issues on everyone’s plates.

Someone couldn’t hold back and lit a cigarette—soon the meeting room was enveloped in smoke.

Wang Yunxiao didn’t offer any opinions, nor did he plan on speaking up.

How qualified am I for this discussion? I didn’t even graduate from junior high! You want me to deliberate on this?

Couldn’t Teacher Liu just make the decision?

Offering suggestions was easy—even a dog could do that. The hard part was solving the issues and taking responsibility for any fallout.

The meeting dragged on for two hours; the ashtray was nearly overflowing by the end. They finally came up with two proposals.

One: force deportations regardless of objections—out of sight, out of mind.

Two: respect the personal wishes of these transmigrators, allowing those unwilling to leave to stay, then transfer them to a safe but remote area, prohibiting contact with family or acquaintances from Tianmen.

Neither option pleased anyone—but no one could offer anything better.

At this moment, someone suddenly opened a window, an icy breeze sweeping into the room and dissipating the clouds of smoke, instantly revitalizing the exhausted crowd.

"Since neither plan satisfies you, let me propose a compromise. No need to seek everyone’s votes—just implement my plan directly."

Who spoke with such audacity?

Everyone looked up, only to see a stranger."

Liu Zhihan cleared her throat and took the microphone: "Allow me to introduce her—this is Xia Yubing, the Division Head of the Containment Department of the Special Service Bureau."

Huh???

What even is the Containment Department?

The Special Service Bureau has another department like this?

Wang Yunxiao was too stunned to speak.

Seriously, pals... How many departments does the Special Service Bureau even have? Didn’t you just claim manpower was tight? Now you’ve conjured up a whole new section?

More hidden cards—that’s what this is! Hidden cards! Is this supposed to be fun?

Xia Yubing gave Wang Yunxiao an expressionless glance, then tossed a stack of printed documents onto the table. "Take one and pass it back."

The document reached Wang Yunxiao’s hands. He picked it up—a bold title read: "Temporary Proposal No. 1 on Transferring and Resettling Non-Native Transmigrants."

So you already had a plan prepared? Then why did you keep us here for a two-hour meeting, choking on secondhand smoke?

Of course, the timing made a difference. If this file had been handed out earlier, it would’ve sparked heated debates. But now, everyone was too worn out, willing to accept anything—even the world’s end.

At this point, as long as the compromise wasn’t outrageous, everyone could get on board.

As long as it wasn’t outrageous.