"Ten strings of cash!"
The Snake Catcher struggled and resisted.
"Thirty strings."
The Snake Catcher's face flushed, and his emotions surged.
"Eighty strings."
The Snake Catcher's heart raced, and his breathing quickened.
"Two hundred strings."
Every muscle in the Snake Catcher's body tensed.
"Five hundred strings."
The Snake Catcher closed his eyes and silently accepted, unable to stop himself from shouting, "Your Majesty is sagacious!"
As someone who had joined the Hunting Team for the lofty ideal of "why don't they eat meat porridge," successfully attained a certain standing, and taken charge of catching snakes and selling game, the Snake Catcher had his principles.
Even before a noble, or the emperor himself, he would not readily compromise.
Game cost what it cost. As a semi-official organization, the Hunting Team had always clearly marked its prices.
But the other party was offering far too much money.
Making an occasional exception wouldn't hurt.
Zi Shou had the Royal Guards carry the tiger's carcass back to the palace to make preparations. Three days later, he would have the ministers buried alongside it-no, have the ministers accompany him in burying the tiger.
In the Nine-Chamber Hall, the elderly royal uncle Jizi felt that something was missing.
"Where are the twelve chime bells the late king cast?"
An eunuch stammered, "M-melted down."
Jizi was instantly dumbfounded, dark clouds gathering over his face. Those twelve chime bells had been his favorites in his youth. He still remembered playing them for amusement with the late king. How had they suddenly been sold?
The Censorate's information traveled swiftly. Xin Jia, standing nearby, said, "His Majesty has been buying charcoal in great quantities at the markets by the four gates, so..."
Jizi was puzzled. "Winter is approaching. It's perfectly normal for the palace to purchase charcoal to keep out