"My dear, are all the nails hammered in?"


    The voice of his wife startled Geiszler from his reverie, and he hurriedly called out from under the eaves, "Oh, it''s all done; you can startying the straw now."


    His gaze fleetingly caught the scar on her forehead, a remnant from the hailstorm, when fragmented wood from the broken roof had gashed her. Fortunately, the wound wasn''t deep, and she and the children had taken refuge under a dining table, narrowly escaping disaster.


    Lady Geiszler tied up arge bundle of thatch with a rope, watching as her husband dragged it up onto the roof and spread it out bit by bit.


    By noon, the roof of the Geiszler home was more or less restored to its former state.


    Geiszler, wiping the sweat from his forehead, entered the house and saw his wifee out from the inner room, cing on the table a te that was missing arge chip—their most intact te—and summoned him with a smile, "Tired, aren''t you? Have something to eat."


    Geiszler ate a few spoonfuls of the vegetable soup soaked bread, then pushed the te aside, "Ah, save this for tonight. I''ll go back to the field to see if there is anything else we can salvage."


    There was still more than half a month until the wheat ripened, but many of the grains had already formed, turning green. Although they were mixed in the mud after the hailstorm, they could still recover some.


    He was determined to gather every grain of food! After this crop failure, his family''s stored grain would onlyst for three months, and as a tenant farmer, he still hadn''t paid the rent to Viscount Colbert.


    Geiszler sighed silently, pondering how much money he would need to borrow to buy enough seeds for the emergency nting for the next half year, and to sustain his family until the autumn harvest.


    Suddenly, he made the sign of the cross on his chest and silently thanked the merciful Crown Prince, praying, "May God bless you and grant you many years of life!"


    If it hadn''t been for the Crown Prince clearing his previous debts, this crop failure would likely have bankrupted his family...


    Stepping out of the house, he had only taken a few strides when he heard the sound of a child crying from the neighbors'', the Geoffreys. Among the sobs, he could faintly hear the child crying for food.


    Lady Geiszler also heard and came out, exchanging a nce with her husband before suggesting, "There''s still some of the green grain we cookedst night left, should we...?"


    "Ah..." Geiszler nodded.


    Geoffrey had contracted lung disease at the beginning of the year and could only lie in bed all day long. His family was destitute. After this disaster, their bankruptcy was inevitable.


    Geiszler took the broken bowl his wife handed to him. Seeing a piece of ck bread atop the boiled grains, he said nothing more and headed towards his neighbor''s house.


    Mrs. Geoffrey took the food with trembling hands, thanking him profusely, while three gaunt children quickly gathered around, eagerly stuffing the food into their mouths.n/?/vel/b//jn dot c//om


    Geiszler paused for a moment before managing to ask, "Is there anything else we can do to help you?"


    "No, that''s all..." Mrs. Geoffrey returned the empty bowl to Geiszler, her head lowered, her words trailing off with hesitation, "The food you gave is already a great help."


    She knew the neighbors, though managing, certainly didn''t have the means to help them daily.


    Under her table was a nearly empty bag of broken wheat. Even if rationed, it wouldst at most half a month. As for livestock, they had all been ughtered and eatenst year. This meant that in half a month, her only option would be to take her family to the city to beg.


    Given her family''s situation, not even usurers would lend to them.


    Geiszler sighed, about to turn and leave when Father Marmont from the parish hurried in, anxiously telling Mrs. Geoffrey, "God bless, you can apply for a ''bread loan'' now!"


    The woman, taken aback, quickly made the sign of the cross and asked, "Respected Priest, what is a ''bread loan''?"


    "His Majesty the King wants to help families like yours, so the parish bank will lend you money," Father Marmont exined. "Go to the church first, fill out an application there, and starting from next month, you can receive a loan of four livres a month, or the equivalent in grain. The interest rate is only six percent."


    "You better hurry, I still need to inform the Jullien family."


    He turned and took a few steps, then quickly turned back to add, "Oh, and your seeds for emergency nting aren''t settled yet, right?"


    "Remember to also apply for government relief seeds. But it''s only potatoes."


    "Actually, those aren''t bad at all, certainly better than starving, right? Plus, there''s no interest. You just need to repay the same amount at the end of the year."


    After Father Marmont and Geiszler left, Mrs. Geoffrey''s eyes suddenly reddened. She knew that even though it was only four livres per month, it would be just enough to keep her family alive!


    Taking a deep breath, she turned and asked her three children to kneel with her. With a trembling voice, she prayed, "Thank you, Your Majesty the King, for your kindness! Thank God! We are saved..."


    She stood up under the bewildered gaze of her children, turned away, wiped the tears from her eyes, and hurried towards the parish church at the fastest pace she could manage.


    Simr to the Geoffreys'' situation, scenarios like this were ying out in ruralmunities across France.


    Thanks to Joseph''s preparations several months in advance, although the terrible natural disaster struck as expected, France did not experience the Purgatory-like conditions of history.


    If families like the Geoffreys went bankrupt, they would have flooded into the cities to beg; many of these people would be key yers in the forting Revolution. Families like these numbered a million across All of France!


    At the same time, the cities, with millions more mouths to feed, would see bread prices skyrocket immediately, making it unaffordable for city dwellers too. Historically, after the hailstorms, the price of bread in Paris quickly doubled, bing a direct catalyst for the Revolution.