Daming: Brother, there is no future for monks, let's rebel

Wu Yuanshan remained silent, his lips trembling slightly, but he did not utter a single word.

Zhu Han didn't rush him. He slowly walked to the grain sack, squatted down, grabbed a handful of grain, and examined it carefully.

The plump grains of rice shimmered with a crystal-clear luster in the sunlight, as if telling a story of their preciousness.

Zhu Han said softly, "The new rice from Jiangnan is plump and full of grains, but it's a pity that you've locked it in the warehouse and it's never seen the light of day."

Zhu Biao said coldly, "The price of grain in the city has already risen to three taels of silver per shi (a unit of dry measure), and the common people can't afford it. Yet you are hoarding it here. Where is your conscience?"

Wu Yuanshan's face grew increasingly grim, and he lowered his head even further, as if he dared not meet the sharp gazes of Zhu Han and Zhu Biao.

Zhu Han tossed the grain back into the bag, clapped his hands, stood up, and asked, "How much grain is in this yard?"

Wu Yuanshan said in a low voice, "Six thousand shi."

Zhu Biao frowned, a hint of worry flashing in his eyes, and said, "But there are only six thousand shi here, so it seems that the scale of the grain hoarding behind this is quite large."

Zhu Han looked at the grain carts parked in the courtyard and asked, "Where are you planning to take them?"

Wu Yuanshan fell silent again, his lips pressed tightly together, his eyes filled with fear and hesitation.

Zhu Han waved his hand, and two of his men immediately stepped forward and, like eagles snatching chicks, dragged out an accountant.

The accountant was thin and pale, his legs were so weak he could barely stand.

Zhu Han looked at him, his gaze gentle yet carrying an undeniable authority, and said, "Speak."

The accountant barely hesitated, knowing full well the dire consequences of not being honest now, so he quickly replied, "The riverside dock! The old shipyard!"

Wu Yuanshan turned around abruptly, his eyes wide, and roared angrily, "Shut up!"

However, the accountant continued, "It really is there, at the old shipyard!"

Zhu Han nodded, a satisfied smile on his face, and said, "Very good."

He turned to his men and said, "Seal all the grain and take it with you, Wu Yuanshan."

The men immediately sprang into action, quickly resealing the grain sacks and binding them tightly with thick ropes to prevent anyone from moving them without authorization.

Wu Yuanshan was being held captive by two of his men. His face was ashen, and his body was trembling uncontrollably. He pleaded, "Your Highness... I am just a merchant. I was forced into this grain hoarding."

Zhu Han looked at him with a cold gaze and said, "Hoarding grain is a business? Your business has caused great suffering to the people of Zhenjiang City."

South of Zhenjiang, the Yangtze River glistens in the sunlight, which falls on the water like a layer of scattered gold, sparkling with dazzling light.

The river breeze made the dock flags flutter in the wind, the bright flags dancing wildly as if telling the story of the dock's prosperity and hustle and bustle.

The old shipyard is located among abandoned wooden sheds. It is usually overgrown with weeds and rarely visited, making it seem particularly desolate.

A large ship was moored on the shore; its massive hull resembled a moving hill.

The boatman stood at the bow, waving his arms and shouting, "Hurry up! We have to finish loading before dark! If we delay the journey, none of you will get paid!"

A tall, thin man stood on the shore. He was slender, with a cold face and eyes that revealed anxiety and unease.

He would occasionally gaze into the distance, muttering to himself, "Still no news from the manor? I wonder what the situation is."

The person next to him shook his head and said, "I don't know."

The tall, thin man frowned and asked again, "Where's Wu Yuanshan? Why haven't we heard from him?"

The man shook his head again and said, "No news."

The man felt a vague unease; his heart began to race involuntarily, as if an invisible hand was gripping his heart tightly.

Just then, the sound of horses' hooves suddenly came from afar. The sound grew clearer and clearer, like rolling thunder, as it approached.

A dozen or so riders charged from the riverside path, their hooves kicking up clouds of dust, like a giant yellow dragon rolling about.

The leader was Zhu Han, who rode a tall, magnificent horse, his posture upright and imposing.

Zhu Biao followed closely behind, his eyes firm and sharp, fixed on the dock ahead.

Behind him were more than twenty men, all of them spirited and full of fighting spirit.

The tall, thin man's face changed drastically. His eyes widened, filled with fear and despair. He immediately shouted, "Government officials! Stop!"

However, it was too late.

Zhu Biao was the first to rush into the dock, like a sharp sword drawn from its sheath, carrying a fierce momentum.

With a swing of his longsword, the two burly men blocking the road were instantly knocked back, screaming as they fell to the ground.

Zhu Han reined in his horse, his eyes sharp as he scanned his surroundings.

The wooden shed was piled high with grain sacks. The mountain of grain looked like a huge golden mountain, radiating an alluring light, yet concealing endless evil.

He said softly, "It really is here."

The tall, thin man tried to appear calm, puffing out his chest to make himself look less flustered. He asked, "What brings you gentlemen here?"

Zhu Han looked at him with a cold gaze, as if he could see through his heart, and said, "Check the grain."

The man's expression changed slightly, and a hint of panic flashed in his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure and said, "These are goods from a merchant ship. We are operating legally, and you gentlemen have no right to interfere."

Zhu Han said calmly, "Goods with inflated prices? You've been driving up grain prices, causing widespread suffering in Zhenjiang. Can you call that legal business?"

The man fell silent, his lips trembling slightly, but he couldn't find the words to refute him.

Suddenly, he turned and ran, his steps quick as a startled rabbit.

Zhu Biao's eyes turned cold, and he shouted, "Grab him!"

The two men immediately gave chase like arrows released from a bow.

The man had only run a few dozen steps when two of his men tackled him to the ground. He struggled desperately, shouting, "You can't arrest me! I'm innocent!"

Zhu Han walked to the grain pile, cut open a bag with his knife, and the rice grains fell to the ground with a clatter, the crisp sound seeming to be an indictment of their crimes.

He glanced at the large ship on the riverbank and asked, "Where are you planning to take it?"

The tall, thin man was brought back. He gritted his teeth and remained silent, his eyes filled with stubbornness and resentment.

Zhu Han didn't press for details. He looked at the boatman and asked, "Whose boat is it?"

The boatman was as pale as a sheet, his body trembling uncontrollably like a leaf drifting in the wind. He said, "Jiangning Trading Company..."

Zhu Han's eyes flashed slightly. Jiangning Trading Company, this name had appeared in the ledger before. It seemed that there was indeed a huge interest group behind it.

Zhu Biao asked, "Uncle, should we seal off the ships?"

Zhu Han nodded and said, "Seal off. Confiscate all the grain and take all the people away."

His men immediately sprang into action, quickly boarding the large ship and taking control of all the personnel on board.

Bags of grain were counted, and the sheer quantity was astonishing. Zhu Biao was increasingly shocked as he looked, and he said, "At least fifteen thousand shi (a unit of dry measure)."

Zhu Han nodded and said, "Including those from the south of the city, it's already over 20,000 shi."

Zhu Biao couldn't help but ask, "Just how much have they hoarded? What kind of conspiracy is hidden behind this?"

Zhu Han did not answer. He looked at the river. In the distance, several boats were slowly approaching the shore. Their slow speed seemed like the footsteps of evil, approaching step by step.

Zhu Han suddenly laughed, a laugh tinged with mockery and confidence. He said, "It seems there's more than just this one boat today."

Zhu Biao followed his gaze and, sure enough, saw two large ships sailing toward the dock, their sails billowing and fluttering in the wind, clearly fully loaded with cargo.

Zhu Biao's eyes lit up, and he said, "They're still transporting grain! Imperial Uncle, we've really made a great harvest this time."

Zhu Han said, "Hold the dock tight. No one is leaving today."

The two large ships quickly approached each other, and the people on board clearly noticed something amiss.

Torches lined the shore, their blazing flames illuminating the entire dock and their terrified faces.

There were also officers and soldiers on guard duty, holding weapons, looking imposing, their eyes revealing determination and authority.

A commotion arose at the bow of the boat, and the boatmen began to hesitate. They didn't know whether they should dock. Docking might mean being arrested, but staying put left them with nowhere to go.

Zhu Han stood on the dock, calmly watching them; his figure appeared exceptionally tall in the firelight.

Zhu Biao shouted loudly, "Dock!"

The sound, like a resounding bell, echoed across the river.

The river wind carried the sound far. The boat was silent for a while before slowly approaching the shore.

Several managers disembarked, their faces grim, as if they had eaten bitter melon. They said, "Sirs, this is commercial cargo. We are transporting it legally. Please, sirs, show some leniency."

Zhu Han looked at them with a cold gaze and said, "Open it."

The supervisors hesitated, their eyes filled with fear and uncertainty, unsure of the consequences of opening the door.

Zhu Biao said coldly, "Open it now, don't force us to take action."

Several of his men boarded the ship immediately, their movements swift and ruthless.

Soon, the first cargo box was opened, and inside it was nothing but grain.

Those bags of grain, like heavy bombs, made the atmosphere on the dock even more tense.

A hush fell over the crowd, broken only by the howling of the river wind and the sound of people breathing.

Zhu Han sighed and said, "It seems this business is quite large. I wonder how many people are involved behind the scenes, and how many people are suffering as a result."

Zhu Biao looked at the distant river, his eyes revealing determination and resolve, and said, "Uncle, if we continue the investigation..."

Zhu Han said, "We will investigate the entire Zhenjiang grain market thoroughly. No matter how powerful the forces or how big the conspiracy behind it, we will investigate to the end and give the people of Zhenjiang justice."

Zhu Biao was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "Then let's turn it over."

Zhu Han glanced at him, then suddenly smiled and said, "He's starting to look like a prince. This is the responsible and courageous Zhu Biao I know."

The dock was brightly lit, as if it were daytime.

The bright lanterns hung high, emitting a warm yellow light that illuminated every corner.

Under the lights, Zhu Han stood tall on the stone steps of the dock. He wore a dark robe, the hem of which fluttered slightly in the wind. His hands were behind his back, and his eyes were deep and calm as he quietly watched the bustling scene before him.

Before my eyes, grain sacks were piled up like mountains. The coarse burlap sacks were stacked layer upon layer on the wooden planks, like solid earthen walls, exuding a simple and profound atmosphere.

Each bag of grain was bulging, as if showing people how full and abundant it was.

Zhu Biao stood beside Zhu Han, his gaze wandering among the "grain mountains," his eyes still filled with undisguised shock.

After a long while, he slowly spoke, his voice filled with a hint of amazement: "Uncle, there are at least tens of thousands of shi here."

Zhu Han nodded slightly, his expression serious and earnest, and said, "Therefore, we must count them carefully and not be careless in the slightest."

Having said that, he turned to look at the group of people behind him, his eyes blazing, and asked loudly, "Where is the accountant?"

From the crowd, a timid accountant who had been brought in stepped forward.

He was thin and pale, his forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat, and his legs were trembling slightly.

He said in a trembling voice, "Here...here."

Zhu Han stared intently at him, his gaze conveying an undeniable authority, and asked, "You can do accounts?"

The accountant nodded hurriedly, his voice trembling with a hint of tears: "Yes, yes."

Zhu Han's expression was calm, but his tone was powerful: "Then let's begin."

After saying that, he waved his hand gently and gave the order: "All grain sacks should be grouped into sets of ten."

As soon as the order was given, dozens of his men immediately sprang into action.

They were all strong and robust, with capable and efficient eyes.

They rushed toward the scattered grain sacks, grabbed the corners of the sacks with both hands, and dragged them to the open ground.

A man in coarse cloth stood to one side, shouting orders at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing in the night sky: "Move this row first!"

"Put them neatly!"

"Don't make a scene!" The voice was rough and loud, carrying an unyielding air.

The strong men lifted the grain sacks and carried them one by one onto the stone slabs of the dock.

These grain sacks were no light; each sack weighed at least a hundred pounds. Even with two people carrying one sack together, their steps were quite heavy.

With each step they took, the stone slabs beneath their feet made a "thump-thump" sound, as if the earth was sighing for their arduous labor.

"Bang—" A bag of grain was slammed down, kicking up a small cloud of dust.

Then came the second bag, the third bag... and soon, a neat straight line was laid out on the ground.

A man in coarse cloth walked back and forth among the grain sacks, holding a wooden stick, pointing and shouting, "Ten sacks per row!"

The men immediately continued arranging the grain bags, placing ten bags in one row, then a second row, a third row, and so on. From a distance, the neatly arranged rows of grain bags looked like square walls of grain, solid and magnificent.

Zhu Han walked steadily to the first row of grain sacks.

He frowned slightly, a scrutinizing look in his eyes, and said, "Knife."

One of his men immediately and respectfully handed him a short knife.

Zhu Han took the dagger, his eyes focused and calm, and casually cut open a sack of grain. (End of Chapter)