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

Without hesitation, he immediately ordered: "Count the grain. We need to register all of this grain and prepare to transport it back to the city."

Torches were lit, illuminating the entire warehouse area as if it were daytime.

The men got busy, dragging out the grain sacks one by one and arranging them on the open ground, still in rows of ten sacks and groups of one hundred sacks each, neat and uniform.

The accountant was brought over and began to meticulously record the accounts, noting every single entry clearly.

"The first warehouse—three thousand four hundred bags."

"Second warehouse - 2,900 bags."

"The third warehouse—three thousand two hundred bags."

As the numbers grew larger, Zhu Biao stood aside, looking at the ever-rising pile of grain, his heart filled with emotion: "Uncle, I never expected there to be so much grain hidden near Zhenjiang."

Zhu Han smiled slightly, his gaze deep: "This is just the tip of the iceberg. I suspect there are other hidden granaries. But tonight, we have already achieved a major victory."

Upon hearing this, Zhu Biao's heart skipped a beat: "There's more? Then what's next..."

Zhu Han did not answer directly.

Inside the accounting office, the candlelight flickered, illuminating the accountant's tired yet somewhat tense face.

His hands moved quickly through the ledgers, the rustling sound of the papers rubbing together was particularly clear in the quiet night.

His voice trembled slightly, carrying a hint of undisguised tension and awe, as he softly called out, "Your Highness."

Zhu Han sat upright to the side, his eyes piercing, quietly awaiting the result.

His eyes revealed a calmness and wisdom, as if everything was under his control.

The accountant took a deep breath, as if gathering all his courage, and said, "All items have been counted."

Zhu Han leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on the accountant, and asked, "How much?"

The accountant took another deep breath and answered with a slightly trembling voice, "Twenty-eight thousand shi."

Zhu Biao, who was standing to the side, suddenly showed a look of shock on his originally calm face. He couldn't help but repeat, "Nearly 30,000 shi."

Zhu Han nodded slightly, a hint of barely perceptible satisfaction flashing in his eyes, and then decisively said, "Seale all warehouses."

Upon hearing the order, the guards immediately sprang into action.

They marched in neat and powerful steps, quickly heading towards the warehouse gate.

The heavy warehouse door closed slowly as they pushed it shut, making a dull thud, as if announcing the start of a revolution.

Then, the thick iron chain was tightly locked onto the warehouse door, making a crisp clanging sound.

One by one, the seals were carefully affixed, the bright red stamps serving as a symbol of authority, deterring anyone from the slightest offense.

A dozen or so guards remained, their expressions serious, their eyes scanning the surroundings warily, protecting the grain like loyal guardians.

Zhu Han stood there quietly, looking at the rows of neat warehouses, his eyes deep and distant. He slowly said, "The Zhenjiang grain market is about to change."

Zhu Biao followed his gaze to the east, where the sky was gradually brightening.

In the distance, the outline of Zhenjiang city gradually became clear under the morning light.

The ancient city wall, like a sleeping dragon, silently guards this city.

Zhu Biao withdrew his gaze and asked in a low voice, "Uncle, what's the next step?"

Zhu Han did not answer immediately; he turned and walked toward his horse.

The horse was tall and powerful, its coat gleaming in the morning light.

Zhu Han gently stroked the horse's back, then mounted it with a graceful and swift movement.

He sat on his horse and said calmly, "When we return to the city, some people will start to get restless."

The first rays of morning sunlight, like golden threads, crossed the city wall of Zhenjiang and gently fell on the roof of the official granary in the north of the city.

The roof tiles shimmered with a warm glow under the sunlight.

By this time, the morning market in the city was already bustling with activity.

The streets were bustling with people.

The vegetable vendors shouted loudly, showing off their fresh vegetables.

The townspeople gathered in small groups, discussing the matter animatedly. Their faces showed a mixture of curiosity and worry.

"Have you heard? The authorities have discovered several granaries."

An old man dressed in coarse cloth frowned and spoke mysteriously.

“They checked again last night,” another young man quickly chimed in, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"I heard there are tens of thousands of bushels of grain." A woman's eyes widened, and a look of surprise appeared on her face.

"Really?" the person next to him asked, half-believing.

These discussions, like the wind, traveled further and further, echoing through the streets.

Chengdong Grain Market is the largest grain trading street in Zhenjiang.

Along a long street, dozens of grain shops lined up. On weekdays, this was the busiest place.

The entrance to the grain shop was always piled high with grain, the shop assistants were busy moving goods, and customers were coming and going, with the sounds of bargaining never ceasing.

However, things are a bit strange here today.

Although the doors of several large grain shops were open, the shopkeepers looked nervous, pacing back and forth behind the counter, their faces filled with anxiety and unease.

One of the shops, "Tongsheng Grain Shop," was run by a slightly overweight middle-aged man whose face was covered in sweat and whose brows were tightly furrowed together, like two tangled caterpillars.

He paced back and forth behind the counter, his steps hurried and flustered.

The shop assistant stood to the side, watching him cautiously, and said softly, "Shopkeeper, should we lower the price a little more?"

The shopkeeper stopped, frowned, and asked, "How much lower?"

The waiter quickly replied, "The price next door has already dropped to two or three ounces."

The shopkeeper's expression changed slightly, and a hint of hesitation flashed in his eyes.

He recalled that the price was three taels yesterday, and felt a pang of heartache. He sighed and said, "It was three taels yesterday too."

The shopkeeper sighed helplessly and said, "The government granaries have grain, and the people are waiting."

The shopkeeper remained silent for a long time, his eyes revealing a struggle and helplessness.

Finally, he gritted his teeth and said, "Surrender."

Upon hearing the order, the man immediately ran out like a gust of wind.

He quickly hung up a new price tag, which swayed gently in the breeze, and the numbers "Rice Price - Two taels and two mace per shi" were particularly eye-catching.

Not far away, the manager of another grain shop saw this scene and his face turned very ugly.

His eyes were fixed on the price tag, as if trying to see right through it. He frowned and said to the clerk, "Another price drop?"

The shop assistant nodded and said, "If we don't lower the price, no one will buy."

The shopkeeper sighed, his eyes revealing helplessness and despair. He slowly said, "Let's lower the price."

As a result, grain prices began to fall little by little.

The atmosphere along the entire grain street was so tense it felt suffocating.

The manager of each grain shop was closely monitoring the price changes of other shops, calculating his own gains and losses.

In the Crown Prince's study, sunlight streamed through the cracks in the windows, casting golden patches on the floor.

Zhu Han was sitting at his desk, intently looking at a new ledger.

Zhu Biao sat to one side, his eyes filled with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. He looked at Zhu Han and said, "Uncle, the price of grain in the city has dropped to two taels and one ounce."

Zhu Han nodded, his eyes still focused on the ledger, and said, "It will go down further."

Gu Qingping was also standing nearby, wearing a light blue long dress, resembling a blooming lotus flower, fresh and elegant.

She looked at the ledger and said softly, "Zhenjiang City has a population of over 100,000. This amount of grain is enough to last a long time."

Zhu Han put down the ledger, raised his head, and his eyes revealed wisdom and decisiveness.

He said, "If all of it is released, the price of grain will be even lower."

Zhu Biao looked at him with some doubt and asked, "Should we distribute the grain now?"

Zhu Han shook his head, his eyes revealing a deep sense of foresight.

He said, "We won't release it yet. The grain merchants are still watching. If we release the grain, they will continue to hide the grain in their warehouses."

Zhu Biao pondered for a moment, and a look of understanding gradually appeared in his eyes.

He said, "So, we're forcing them to sell first?"

Zhu Han nodded, a confident smile playing on his lips.

He said, "When they can't hold on any longer, the price of grain will naturally fall."

Gu Qingping smiled, her smile as warm and bright as the spring sunshine.

She said, "This way, the people will benefit."

Zhu Han laughed too; his laughter was hearty and unrestrained, echoing in the study.

In a luxurious mansion south of Zhenjiang, several grain merchants are having a secret meeting.

The atmosphere inside was so oppressive that it was hard to breathe, like the calm before a storm.

Several ledgers were laid out on the table, and the numbers on them now felt like sharp knives, piercing their hearts.

One of the portly businessmen was sweating profusely, his face filled with anxiety and fear.

He kept wiping the sweat from his forehead and said, "The salt warehouse has also been investigated."

The other man frowned, a look of worry in his eyes, and said, "The ships at the dock have also been seized."

Someone asked in a low voice, "Wu Yuanshan hasn't come out yet?"

A hush fell over the room, and everyone felt uneasy.

An elderly businessman spoke slowly.

His voice was deep and hoarse, as if carrying the marks of time. He said, "Something's not right."

The portly merchant quickly asked, "What's wrong?"

The old man frowned, his eyes revealing wisdom and insight.

He said, "The government doesn't just investigate once, they investigate continuously, and each time they are very accurate."

The room fell silent as everyone fell into deep thought.

The scene of government officials inspecting grain kept flashing through their minds, filling them with fear and doubt.

Someone whispered, "Did someone leak the information?"

The old man shook his head, his eyes revealing a firmness and decisiveness.

He said, "No, it's Prince Han."

The crowd's expressions changed, their eyes revealing a mixture of fear and awe.

The portly businessman sighed, his eyes revealing helplessness and despair. He said, "What can we do?"

The old man was silent for a while, his eyes revealing a struggle and a determination.

Finally, he said, "Sell the grain."

The group looked up at the same time, their eyes filled with surprise and confusion.

They asked in unison, "Selling now?"

The old man nodded, his eyes revealing a mixture of helplessness and determination.

He said, "If we delay any longer, grain prices will fall even more drastically."

The group looked at each other, their hearts filled with contradictions and struggles.

That afternoon, a new scene appeared on the streets of Zhenjiang.

One grain cart after another drove out of the various grain stores, gleaming in the sunlight, like chariots of hope.

The truck was piled high with grain sacks, which were bulging as if they were filled with the hopes of the people.

The workers stood on the cart, constantly shouting, "Grain for sale! New rice! Two ounces per bushel!"

Their voices were loud and powerful, echoing through the streets.

At dusk, the afterglow of the setting sun shone on the Zhenjiang city wall, draping it in a golden veil.

Zhu Han and Zhu Biao stood on the city wall, their figures appearing exceptionally tall and majestic in the setting sun.

In the distance, grain carts came and went on the streets, and people lined up to buy grain. The lively scene created a harmonious and beautiful picture.

Zhu Biao couldn't help but say, "Uncle, the price of grain has dropped to two taels."

Zhu Han nodded, his eyes revealing a sense of relief and anticipation.

He said, "It will drop further."

Zhu Biao looked at the scene in the city and a smile appeared on his face.

He said, "The people can finally afford to buy grain."

Zhu Han didn't speak, he just stared into the distance.

His gaze was deep and distant, as if he were pondering deeper questions.

After a while, he said, "The real person behind the scenes hasn't shown up yet."

Zhu Biao was taken aback, his eyes revealing a sense of doubt and confusion.

He asked, "Uncle, you mean..."

Zhu Han slowly said, "Jiangning Trading Company."

Zhu Biao frowned, his eyes revealing surprise and worry.

He said, "Haven't they already been investigated?"

Zhu Han shook his head, his eyes revealing wisdom and insight.

He said, "That's just a semicolon."

On ordinary days, the streets are the source of vitality for Zhenjiang City, where people gather in twos and threes, chatting about the trivialities of life.

Aunt Zhang, who sells cloth, was arguing loudly with Uncle Li from the next stall about the quality of the newly arrived fabric: "Brother Li, look at this bolt of silk of mine, it's so smooth, it feels like a cloud to the touch, three taels of silver a foot, absolutely worth it!"

Uncle Li wasn't going to back down either. He picked up a piece of coarse cloth and waved it around: "Sister Zhang, your silk is good, but for us ordinary folks, we still have to rely on this coarse cloth. It's sturdy and durable, and you can buy three feet of it for one tael of silver!"

Not far away, Old Wang, who sells salt, is haggling with an old lady who wants to buy salt: "Auntie, the price of salt has gone up a bit recently, but there's nothing we can do about it. The supply from the source is expensive. Look, this bag is only two taels of silver, it's really not expensive."

The old woman frowned, her face full of displeasure: "Old Wang, please don't raise the price of salt any further, or we ordinary people won't be able to afford salt anymore!"

Meanwhile, at the dock, a group of porters huddled together, discussing the comings and goings of cargo: "I heard another big ship came yesterday, loaded to the brim. I wonder what treasures it's carrying." (End of Chapter)