The Little Men Believed Him

After shouting out his offer, the merchant surnamed Zheng nearly collapsed to the floor. That was all the ready money he could move from his accounts. The rest was tied up in goods and could not be freed anytime soon.

Su Ziji listened without giving any indication of what he thought. His expression remained mild.

To the four men kneeling on the floor, that was even more chilling than if he had flown into a rage.

Seeing that the official looked displeased, the merchant surnamed Sun felt his heart pound like thunder. "This humble man is willing to donate five hundred taels!" he cried.

The moment the words left his mouth, his heart clenched in pain.

A two- or three-courtyard house in the prefectural city cost only around 130 taels. Five hundred taels could buy two or three decent houses there. He spent only two or three hundred taels a year keeping three gangs happy, yet this time he had offered five hundred in one stroke. It was a great slab of flesh carved away, more painful even than being cut to pieces bit by bit.

Another man saw that the official still showed no reaction and shouted an offer of six hundred taels. It was to save his life; he no longer cared about anything else.

Su Ziji looked at them. All four wore expressions that said they had done everything they could to stay alive, and he fell into thought.

In an agricultural age, people's movement was restricted—without such restrictions, refugees would arise—and transport and communication were woefully limited. People did not leave their hometowns unless they had no way to survive. City populations were therefore relatively stable, as was their wealth.

Su Ziji had read a case file on Dai Zhongdao, whose father and elder brother were