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

With a "whoosh," the rice grains poured out like a waterfall, a white expanse that shimmered and sparkled under the light.

He slowly squatted down, stretched out his hands, and grabbed a handful of grain.

The rice grains rolled in his broad palms, and he gently rubbed them in his hands, feeling their texture.

He saw that the grains were plump and without a trace of impurity, and he nodded slightly, understanding the situation.

At this moment, Zhu Biao stepped forward, looked at the white rice grains, and said, "It is indeed good rice."

Zhu Han stood up and said solemnly, "Weigh yourself."

A large scale was quickly brought to the dock.

This scale is enormous, with a thick and straight beam and hooks that gleam with a metallic sheen.

Two burly men stepped forward; they were muscular and their faces were covered in sweat.

They carefully hung the grain bags on the scale hook, and the scale beam slowly pressed down, making a "creaking" sound, as if it were under tremendous pressure.

The accountant stared intently at the scales, his eyes wide and unblinking, large beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and soaking his collar.

Finally, the scale stabilized, and a burly man shouted, "Ninety-seven jin!"

Zhu Han nodded slightly and said calmly, "Normal."

After saying that, he turned to his subordinates and said, "Check one bag out of every ten bags."

The accountant dared not be negligent in the slightest and immediately began recording the transactions.

He picked up a brush and wrote quickly on the paper, muttering to himself, "First row, ten bags."

"One bag was randomly sampled, and it weighed 97 jin (48.5 catties)."

One of his men carefully wrote numbers on a wooden board next to him; the handwriting was neat and clear.

As the records were written down, the inventory process began to become more organized.

The man in coarse cloth continued to shout the count at the top of his lungs: "First row—ten bags!"

The accountant quickly wrote down: "Ten bags."

The men then used red powder to mark the grain sacks. The bright red color stood out against the white sacks, indicating that the grain had been counted.

Next, the second column: "Second column—ten bags!" "Record!"

Rows of grain bags were checked, and records were made for every ten bags, and then checked again for every hundred bags.

Zhu Han stood by the side the whole time, his eyes like those of a hawk, watching the entire process intently.

His gaze swept over every step, not missing a single detail, as if he were guarding this vital grain.

Zhu Biao watched from the side, somewhat puzzled, and couldn't help but ask, "Uncle, why is it so fine?"

Zhu Han's gaze was firm, and he said in a serious tone, "With so much grain, the accounts must be cleared. Otherwise, if someone tries to tamper with them, the consequences will be unimaginable."

Zhu Biao nodded slightly upon hearing this, his admiration for Zhu Han's meticulousness and sense of responsibility growing even stronger.

While the tense inventory work was underway on the dock, another group of people had already boarded the huge ship.

The ship resembled a small mountain floating on the water, with a deep and wide cabin, like a huge treasure trove.

The deck below was piled high with grain sacks, so densely packed that they inspired awe in all who saw them.

The cabin was dimly lit and filled with a damp atmosphere.

Torches were brought in, and their leaping flames instantly illuminated everything around them.

The firelight illuminated the bags of grain, casting long shadows that resembled silent guardians.

The men shouted, "Move it out first!"

Several burly men bent down and entered the cabin; their figures appeared exceptionally tall in the firelight.

They hoisted the grain sacks with all their might; the heavy burden made their bodies tremble slightly, but they gritted their teeth and walked step by step down the planks to the deck.

The journey from the ship to the dock was arduous, each step a struggle. "Thump!" "Thump!" The grain sacks fell to the ground with a series of dull thuds, like heavy drumbeats striking at the hearts of the people.

Soon, new piles of grain were stacked up at the dock.

The man in coarse cloth continued to give orders; his voice was hoarse but still powerful: "Put the boats to the east!" "Don't mess around!"

The accountant kept writing, sweat dripping down his forehead and wetting the paper in his hands.

At the same time, Zhu Han ordered his men to seize the ships.

Two henchmen carrying thick iron chains walked to the bow of the ship; their movements were practiced and swift.

They threaded the chain through the anchor hole and then pulled it tight, locking the chain to the stone pillars on the dock.

"Click—" The sound of the iron lock closing was crisp and loud, as if it were a verdict on the ship.

Then, another chain was used to lock the stern, and the boat was completely fixed to the dock, unable to move an inch.

The boatman was taken aside. He lowered his head, his body trembled slightly, and his eyes were filled with fear and unease.

Zhu Han walked over, looked at him coldly, and asked, "Whose boat is it?"

The boatman lowered his head and said in a weak voice, "Jiangning Trading Company."

Zhu Han nodded and said firmly, "The boat now belongs to the government."

The boatman dared not speak again, but stood there silently, his body trembling uncontrollably.

The other ship was also brought under control.

Zhu Biao boarded the ship himself. He carefully lifted the wooden planks of the cargo hold, and a strong smell of grain wafted out.

Below were still full of grain sacks, piled up like a small mountain.

Zhu Biao frowned, secretly surprised, and said, "It's all grain."

The subordinate said, "Your Highness, this ship has even more."

Zhu Biao said solemnly, "Move everything down."

Dozens of people immediately got to work, with clear division of labor and excellent teamwork.

Footsteps echoed continuously from inside the cabin, their rapid yet orderly sounds suggesting a tense battle.

Bags of grain were handed onto the deck one by one, and then carried off the deck. The entire dock was like a highly efficient assembly line, with each step of the process—handling, placing, recording, and checking—closely connected without a moment's pause.

Time slipped away quietly amidst the busyness, and an hour passed.

The first batch of grain piles has finally been counted.

The accountant wiped his sweat, held the ledger in both hands, and carefully walked up to Zhu Han, saying in a slightly trembling voice, "Your Highness, the first batch is three thousand two hundred bags."

Zhu Han asked, "How many per bag?"

The accountant quickly replied, "Ninety-six catties on average."

Zhu Han quickly calculated in his mind and said, "About three thousand shi."

Zhu Biao said from the side, "This is only the first batch."

The accountant continued flipping through the ledger, his fingers sliding quickly across the pages, and said, "The second batch is two thousand nine hundred bags."

"The third batch of 4,100 bags."

As he spoke, the numbers continued to increase, and the man in coarse cloth was also somewhat surprised, widening his eyes and saying, "This place actually hides so many."

Zhu Han remained silent, standing there quietly with a deep and calm gaze, as if deep in thought. As the night deepened and the sky began to lighten, a faint ray of dawn, like a messenger of hope, quietly descended.

The dock finally finished its inventory check. Everyone was exhausted, but their faces beamed with a sense of accomplishment.

The accountant held a thick ledger, his hands trembling slightly, as if the ledger weighed a ton.

His voice trembled as he said, "Your Highness, the total is 16,300 shi."

Zhu Biao took a breath, his eyes filled with shock, and said, "So many."

Zhu Han nodded slightly and said solemnly, "Seal them all off."

Zhu Han ordered: "Set up the tent."

The men immediately sprang into action, moving wooden frames and quickly setting up temporary granaries on the open ground of the dock.

They worked together, some holding the wooden frame, others tying it with ropes, their movements skilled and swift.

Soon, one temporary granary after another was set up.

The grain sacks were stacked up again, layer upon layer, forming a magnificent small mountain.

The area was surrounded by wooden fences, which were neat and sturdy, like barriers protecting the grain.

Zhu Han ordered his men to hang up seals. One seal after another was affixed to the gate, and the bright red seals were particularly eye-catching, bearing the official seal and representing the authority of the government.

"No one may enter without permission."

Zhu Han's voice was loud and authoritative, echoing across the dock.

The guards immediately took their posts, their posture upright and their eyes firm. They patrolled in groups of ten, taking turns to protect this hard-won grain.

As dawn broke in the east, the morning light gently veiled the earth.

A thin layer of mist rose from the river, adding a touch of mystery and tranquility to the scene.

Zhu Biao, dressed in a magnificent brocade robe and wearing a jade crown, stood tall and straight on the high ground of the dock.

He frowned slightly, his gaze fixed on the pile of grain that resembled a small mountain.

These grains seem to carry countless unknown variables at this moment.

He couldn't help but whisper, "Royal Uncle."

Zhu Han was tall and had a calm demeanor. He wore a dark robe with an exquisite jade belt around his waist and black boots, which made him look particularly dignified.

Hearing Zhu Biao's voice, he slowly turned around, his gaze deep and resolute.

Zhu Biao looked at Zhu Han with a worried expression and said, "If they sell these grains at inflated prices, the consequences will be unimaginable."

Zhu Han narrowed his eyes slightly, a cold glint in them, and said in a deep voice, "The city will be in chaos."

Zhu Biao nodded slightly, fully aware of the implications.

Food is the foundation of people's livelihood. If unscrupulous merchants maliciously raise prices, people will not be able to make a living, and the city will inevitably fall into chaos.

Zhu Han said nothing more. He turned around resolutely and gave the order: "Return to the city."

Zhu Biao hurriedly asked, "Uncle, what should we do with all this grain?"

Zhu Han stopped and, after a moment's thought, said, "Seal it first."

"Then we'll deal with it slowly."

His voice was calm and powerful, as if injecting a calming agent into the chaotic situation.

Zhu Han stood on the high ground again, his gaze sharp as he surveyed every corner of the dock.

At this moment, the last batch of account books was being carefully organized.

The accountant was an elderly man over fifty years old. He wore a simple long gown and round-framed glasses, and his eyes were focused and serious.

He respectfully handed the thick ledger to Zhu Han, his voice trembling slightly as he said, "Your Highness, all the grain has been recorded."

Zhu Han extended both hands and solemnly accepted the ledger.

The ledger was filled with densely packed numbers, with the quantity, weight, origin of the ships, and storage location of each batch of grain sacks all meticulously recorded.

He slowly opened the ledger and examined it carefully, his fingers gently tracing the numbers as if he were touching the fate of the grain.

After a while, he nodded slightly and said, "It's fairly clear."

Zhu Biao walked over at this moment. He looked at the account book in Zhu Han's hand and asked, "Uncle, what do we do now?"

Zhu Han closed the ledger, looked firmly into the distance, and said, "Transport the grain into the city first."

Zhu Biao was somewhat surprised. He widened his eyes and asked, "All of them?"

Zhu Han nodded without hesitation and said, "All of them."

He looked again at the mountain of grain in the distance and said solemnly, "Sixteen thousand shi of grain placed here is too conspicuous and could easily attract unnecessary trouble."

Zhu Biao thought for a moment, a troubled look on his face, and said, "I'm afraid the Crown Prince's warehouse can't hold that much grain."

After a moment of contemplation, Zhu Han said, "Use the official granary."

Zhu Biao was taken aback and asked, "The official granary in the north of the city?"

Zhu Han nodded again and said, "That place can hold 50,000 shi of grain, which is enough to accommodate all this food."

Zhu Biao immediately understood Zhu Han's intention. He nodded and said, "Okay."

Zhu Han waved his hand and loudly ordered, "Prepare the carriage."

Dozens of carriages were quickly summoned. These carriages had a simple and rustic design, with bodies made of sturdy wood and huge, thick wheels.

The wooden wheels rolled on the stone road, making a "gurgling" sound, and the axle creaked and groaned under the enormous pressure.

A man dressed in coarse cloth stood in front of the grain pile. He was tall and strong, and his voice was loud and clear.

He shouted, "Load the first pile first!"

Upon hearing the order, the group of burly men immediately sprang into action.

They worked in pairs, cooperating seamlessly. One person quickly bent down and lifted the heavy grain sack with both hands, while the other held it firmly to prevent it from slipping.

They gritted their teeth, their faces showing signs of strain, but their steps remained firm as they walked towards the carriage.

As they approached the carriage, the man in coarse cloth shouted again, "Release!"

The strong men worked together to place the grain sacks steadily on the cart.

A cart can carry about twenty bags of grain, the man in coarse cloth continued to shout, "Twenty bags a cart!"

The accountant stood to the side, pen and paper in hand, diligently recording: "First cart—twenty bags."

“Second truckload—twenty bags.” His voice was steady and orderly, and every number was recorded clearly.

Once each truck was full, a designated person would tightly tie the grain sacks with thick hemp rope, and then cover them with a thick layer of coarse cloth.

This coarse cloth not only prevents the grain bags from falling off during transportation, but also provides some protection, preventing the grain from being exposed to wind and sun.

Zhu Biao also personally participated in the inspection work.

He walked up to a cart, gently lifted the coarse cloth, carefully examined the grain sacks inside, and then said to the driver, "Tie them tight. This grain is of great importance and cannot be handled carelessly."

The coachman nodded hurriedly and said respectfully, "Yes, Your Highness." (End of Chapter)