As Hu Lao San poured polished rice from the measure into the rice sack, he seemed to suddenly remember something and said to Fang Yuan with a hint of apology:
"Right, Brother Fang, I need to tell you—the price of this polished rice has gone up twenty coins since last time. It's this much per measure now—"
He held up two fingers. "One hundred and twenty coins."
Fang Yuan's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. "It went up that much?"
He remembered that the price had still been one hundred coins per measure when he came last time.
"Ah, there's nothing to be done about it." Hu Lao San sighed, lowering his voice and leaning forward slightly.
"I heard things aren't peaceful up north in Hanshan Commandery. There's a war going on! We don't know the exact situation either,
but the grain routes must have been affected. The bigwigs in town are all stockpiling grain, and the price is shooting up before your eyes."
He looked at Fang Yuan, sincerity coloring his tone.
"I can tell you're an honest man, brother, so listen to this old brother: if you've got the means, stockpile as much as you can.
By my estimate, in times like these, grain prices... will only keep rising!"
Fang Yuan fell silent for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the heavy sack of rice.
He knew grain was expensive in troubled times, but the news of war in Hanshan Commandery still made his heart tighten.
It confirmed his worst earlier suspicions.
"Alright, I trust Steward Hu." He decided at once. "Add another measure of polished rice."
It was not that he did not trust Shopkeeper Hu's words.
The storage conditions at home were limited to begin with. The rice jar was only so large; four measures of rice already