The good news Wang Yan had brought back spread across the county again in no time.
"What? He didn't die? And he even sold everything the county had?"
"Not all the goods in the county—everything our county can produce in a year."
"Bless the Mountain God. Good thing Wang Yan wasn't beaten to death, or wouldn't this big deal of ours have gone down the drain?"
Wang Yan had indeed brought better days to the county, but as time passed, people's gratitude had faded. Besides, only a small number of people had actually made money from the tourists. Even if everyone benefited from the countywide perspective, ordinary people clearly did not think that way. They only thought straightforwardly: Had they personally made money from the tourists?
So when word first spread that Wang Yan had been beaten to death, everyone had certainly felt sorry for him, but quite a few had also treated it as a spectacle.
But once the matter became directly tied to everyone in the county, they were filled with righteous indignation—and lingering fear. The county's agricultural and livestock products, along with all kinds of handicrafts, had to be produced household by household, and the prices were much higher than before. Everyone could make money and live better lives.
If those days continued for three to five years, they would reach a moderately prosperous standard ahead of schedule.
But that was obviously unrealistic. Natural disasters and human misfortunes came and went; there were good harvests and bad ones. Perhaps Old Man Heaven always singled out the poor. Just when life was about to improve, he would bring down a crushing blow.
It was like following the major players into a charge in the stock market. Just when you were eagerly awaiting the next limit-up, the next