The Delayed Grain Ships Ignite the City's Fury-Prince An's Residence Is About to Be Smashed
Pu Yunshan landed on the ground, picked up the wooden mallet next to him and continued hammering the tenon, his mind filled with the image of Qin Hongxiu standing at the alley entrance holding a food box.
She said she wanted to learn accounting as soon as possible so that she could help Foot Care Hall.
Pu Yunshan raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and began to strike with the wooden mallet even faster.
" Pu Yunshan!"
Gu Moran's voice came from the street corner.
Pu Yunshan stopped what he was doing and saw Gu Moran sitting in a wheelchair, followed by Murong Xue, Su Yao and Uncle Fu. He quickly jumped down from the wooden frame.
"Your Highness, what brings you here?"
"Let's see if the handyman I bought for a thousand taels of silver over five years has been slacking off."
Gu Moran glanced at the neatly stacked timber in the courtyard, then saw the already constructed front hall and back courtyard partitions, and nodded.
"The progress is faster than I expected."
Pu Yunshan's ears felt a little hot, and he said in a low voice, "Some craftsmen have gone back to their hometowns for the New Year, Hongxiu wants to open as soon as possible. I'm just sitting here doing nothing anyway."
Murong Xue walked halfway around a split piece of thick wood, then reached out and tapped the smooth surface of the cut.
"If you use the unique skills of Mount Qingcheng to chop firewood and saw wood, Pu Guan would be afraid to even chase you down three mountains with his sword."
Pu Yunshan put down the mallet, but his face was very serious.
"If it can shorten Hongxiu's wait by a few days, then this sword training wasn't in vain."
Murong Xue opened her mouth, wanting to laugh but then felt it wasn't appropriate, so she turned away.
Su Yao flipped through the account books and said, "The front counter, foot bath tubs, and herbal medicine shelves are almost finished. We'll build two more medicinal bath rooms in the backyard. I think we can try opening them around the fifteenth of the first lunar month."
Gu Moran looked at Pu Yunshan.
"Can you really finish it?"
The dots on Pu Yunshan resembled Xiaoji.
Gu Moran glanced at Uncle Fu, Uncle Fu immediately took out two strings of candied hawthorns from the food box. The sugar coating was translucent, and the hawthorns were dazzlingly red.
"This is made with freshly boiled white sugar from the backyard. Take it and let Miss Qin try it."
Pu Yunshan was overjoyed and quickly took the candied hawthorn. His hands were covered in wood ash, and he was afraid of getting the bamboo skewers dirty, so he quickly wiped them on his clothes twice.
"For Hongxiu?"
"Or, how about I give you your little piglets?"
Gu Moran with disdain.
"Take it and go quickly, before the sugar coating melts."
Pu Yunshan turned and ran south of the city.
Murong Xue watched his retreating figure and couldn't help but click her tongue.
"This guy never runs this fast, not even when he's collecting his wages."
Gu Moran and said, "This is what you call the power of emotion."
At the same time, at the Prince Anyang's Residence.
Gu Mochen lay on the couch, his face ashen, with two dirty buckets beside him. The physician knelt before the couch to change his dressing, not daring to lift his head.
The vermilion pills sent by Yang Tie have been found to be problematic; after ingestion, they cause a feeling of heat and excitement, with side effects including abdominal pain and vomiting.
Gu Mochen hasn't been able to eat anything for the past few days. He even vomits after drinking a sip of hot soup. He's changed his nightgown several times, but the room still reeks of a sour, musty smell.
Zhou Huaili stood by the bed, holding the newly delivered letter in his hand, his face extremely grim.
Gu Mochen raised his eyelids.
Where are the grain ships?
Zhou Huaili did not answer immediately.
Gu Mochen propped himself up halfway on the bed, his chest heaving. He grabbed the spittoon and gagged a few times before asking again.
"I ask you, where are the grain ships?"
"Your Highness, the boat is still on the river."
Zhou Huaili forced himself to speak.
"Most of the boatmen have left for the New Year, and several ferry crossings along the way are frozen over. Even with the money we sent out, we can't find enough boatmen. It will take at least a few more days."
Gu Mochen loosened his grip, and the spittoon smashed to the ground, splashing half of Zhou Huaili's robe with leftover soup.
"How many days exactly?"
"Grain prices in the city have risen again today. Those unscrupulous merchants are hoarding grain, waiting for it to rise to its peak."
Zhou Huaili didn't wipe his clothes, and continued, "Two soup kitchens on South Street have already closed, a fight broke out in front of the grain store, and more and more refugees are coming in from outside the city. The government has sent people to suppress them twice, but they can't."
Gu Mochen's throat bobbed, wanting to curse, but his stomach churned with a sharp, churning pain.
He hunched over and gagged, his forehead hitting the bedpost with a dull thud.
Zhou Huaili quickly helped him up.
Gu Mochen flung his hand away, his eyes bloodshot.
"Then go buy it, go find the merchants. I don't care what methods you use, you must bring down the price of grain in Anyang within three days."
Zhou Huaili's lips were dry.
Finally, he lowered his head.
"I will take care of it immediately."
Gu Mochen watched him leave, his fingers gripping the wooden railing of the tatami mat, his molars grinding together until they ached.
Faint cries and shouts came from outside the window; it was unclear which direction people were looting grain again.
He closed his eyes, a heavy breath pressing on his chest, making it difficult to breathe evenly.
In front of the porridge stall on South Street in Anyang, there was only half a pot of thin porridge left.
The steward in charge of distributing porridge held a wooden ladle, his forehead covered in sweat, but the line ahead kept growing longer and longer. Some people were carrying empty bowls, while others had children with them. Snow water and mud covered the entire street.
"The rice porridge will be ready soon, don't queue up yet!"
The manager shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Her Highness the Princess is already trying to arrange for grain. If the villagers can't get any, they should leave now and come back tomorrow."
Immediately, someone in the crowd started cursing.
"Ming'er? My child didn't eat anything last night!"
"That's not what you said when your Prince's Mansion was raising funds. You said Prince An was benevolent and everyone would have porridge to drink, but now you're going back on your word!"
"A bushel of rice costs two hundred coins; how can I afford it?"
The steward took two steps back, holding the wooden spoon, and the guards behind him quickly stepped in to block him.
A woman carrying a child squeezed to the front, handed out a bowl, her voice hoarse.
"I don't want it thick, half a bowl of soup is fine with the child."
The steward glanced at the bottom of the pot, stirred it a couple of times with a wooden spoon, and only managed to scoop out a few grains of broken rice.
Someone nearby reached out first, knocking the woman's bowl to the ground, breaking the rim in two, and the child cried loudly in fright.
The streets are in chaos.
Some people tried to grab the pot, while others tried to pull the guards away. The guards swung wooden sticks to drive them away, and when the sticks fell, they hit an old man on the shoulder, causing him to fall into the snow and mud. People nearby rushed over with red eyes, and the wooden frame of the porridge stall was knocked to one side.
"Stop!"
When Zhou Huaili arrived, half of the shed had already collapsed.
The guards from the royal palace he brought with him drew their swords, but the shouts and curses in the street only grew louder. The people backed away, but no one was willing to disperse.
Zhou Huaili looked at the broken bowls and spilled porridge on the floor, his temples throbbing.
When Prince An's Consort set up the soup kitchen, she used the name of the Prince An's Residence. Now that grain prices can't be controlled, it's the Prince An's Residence's mansion that's being humiliated.
A guard squeezed next to him and whispered, "Sir, something has happened at the grain store in the west of the city too. Some people are saying that grain merchants are hoarding grain to drive up prices and are planning to set fire to the store."
Zhou Huaili's expression changed.
"Send men to protect the warehouse, don't let the fire start."
"Over here at the soup kitchen?"
Zhou Huaili looked at the overturned pot.
He gritted his teeth.
"Stand the pot upright, and go to the treasury to get two more bags of rice."
Zhou Huaili lowered his voice, veins throbbing on his forehead.
"If we can't stabilize the situation today, the whole city will be in chaos tomorrow!"
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