Liu Bian at the start, so you're called Dong Zhuo, right?

When Liu Bian walked out of that general store, the sky was already beginning to set in the west.

The wind at the alley entrance carried the smell of cooking smoke, blowing in gusts from the two markets. The cries of vendors rose again in the distance, as if nothing had happened; Luoyang remained bustling, still a place that devoured people.

"As the sun sets, where is my hometown? The misty waves on the river fill me with sorrow."

Liu Bian murmured.

Cao Cao was momentarily dazed:

"Young master, did you recite a poem just now?"

Liu Bian quickly laughed it off, saying, "Mengde is too tired today; perhaps he misheard."

Cao Cao hadn't heard clearly, so he shook his head and dismissed the thought.

Back at the market, Cao Cao deliberately spread out the crowd: Xiahou Dun and Cao Hong mingled in the flow of people to listen to prices and hear what people were saying; Xiahou Yuan stayed far away to keep an eye out for any tails; Cao Ren stayed close to Liu Bian, like an older brother looking after his younger brother.

Liu Bian first went to check on the fires being lit in the market.

In Luoyang, ordinary households typically use firewood, straw, and charcoal for cooking.

Firewood is expensive. Timber in the city has to be transported from outside, and the timber brokers control the price. The price increases as winter approaches. Grass is cheap, but it produces a lot of smoke and a small flame, so you have to add more firewood three or four times to cook a pot of porridge. Charcoal is the most convenient, but it's for people with a little extra money. Ordinary people can't afford to buy a whole basket, so they can only buy small amounts.

He squatted down in front of a firewood stall, rubbed some sawdust between his fingers, and looked up to ask:

"How much is this firewood?"

Upon hearing the child's tone, the stall owner smiled first, then held up two fingers:

"Two coins a bundle."

Liu Bian's heart sank.

Two coins' worth of firewood is enough for one meal, but not necessarily for a family for a day. If it rains or snows, the firewood becomes damp, making it even harder to start a fire. For poor families, even starting a fire is a cost.

He didn't ask any more questions, but simply memorized the number.

Further ahead, there are laundry facilities.

People in Luoyang wash clothes using lye, soap pods, coarse salt, and rice water.

Wealthy people used soap pods, which they pounded to create foam, and it was effective at removing oil; poorer people used wood ash soaked in water, which was highly alkaline and cleaned well, but it was bad for their hands, and could cause their skin to crack when washing clothes in winter. Some people also used rice water mixed with ash, which was barely milder—but that required having rice to eat first.

Liu Bian saw a woman squatting by the river washing her hands. The back of her hands were cracked, red, swollen, and shiny. She was rubbing and gasping for breath, but dared not stop, because if her clothes were not washed clean, she would be scolded or even beaten.

Liu Bian didn't go over to ask, but simply looked away.

He was afraid that if he asked a question, his mind would be in turmoil.

Now look at the writing side.

Writing relied on bamboo slips and silk. Paper was available, but good paper was expensive, and coarse paper was not durable and would fray after being copied once. Ink was also expensive, and ink sticks were mostly sold by shops. Inkstones were even more particular. Ordinary people often borrowed bamboo slips and ink from others, copied a couple of lines, and left.

He stopped in front of a bookstore and listened to the shopkeeper's prices: how much for a copy of a book, how much for a pen, and how much for a stick of ink.

These things are not even the threshold for "reading", but the threshold for "literacy".

High barriers to entry mean narrow paths.

Finally, let's look at the food.

The most common grains in both markets are millet, wheat, and beans. Refined grains—rice and flour—are either expensive or scarce. Meat hangs on the stalls, but not everyone dares to ask the price; vegetables are available, but prices rise with the seasons. The cheapest items are soup and flatbread, but even those cost money.

He saw an old man break copper coins into pieces again and again, finally buying only half a cake, which he put into his pocket as if protecting his life.

Liu Bian suddenly understood: the so-called "people living in misery" does not mean starving to death on the streets, but that they are constantly calculating whether they have enough for today and what to do tomorrow.

If the capital is like this, what about the other counties and prefectures across the country?

He turned to look at Cao Cao, his voice very soft:

"Mengde, I've figured it out."

Cao Cao did not ask "what have you figured out?", but only said:

"If you're going to do it, young master, you can start with the easiest thing to do."

Liu Bian nodded.

What he needs to do first, without making grand pronouncements, is simply to make fire more economical, washing easier, writing cheaper, and ensuring everyone has enough to eat.

These four things are enough to influence many things.

That evening, Liu Bian did not return to the palace to hold a grand meeting.

He led Cao Cao and the others to a small tavern on the edge of the two markets and chose the most inconspicuous corner to sit down.

"Have a seat first."

Cao Cao understood and led his men into the tavern. The tavern was small, with a greasy curtain, dim lighting, and faded price tags on the walls. Inside, several tables were crammed with customers, some boasting while holding wine bowls, others cursing while gripping chopsticks, their topics ranging from grain prices to officials, covering everything imaginable.

Liu Bian chose the most inconspicuous corner to sit down, leaning against the wall, where he could clearly see the entrance and most of the table in the hall. Xiahou Dun and the others dispersed and took their places, like ordinary porters accompanying relatives, but their eyes blocked out every gap in the crowd.

The shopkeeper, seeing their ordinary attire, assumed they were just small-time errand runners and casually brought them two bowls of turbid wine and a plate of pickled vegetables.

Liu Bian didn't rush to talk about the business; he simply gently stroked the rim of the bowl with his fingertips.

He wanted to hear what people in Luoyang were talking about lately.

Sure enough, after only a few bites, the people at the next table brought up the "newly appointed crown prince".

"Have you heard? The Crown Prince has recently started managing the palace market from within the Forbidden City."

"What's so great about managing the palace market? That's just His Majesty's hobby. Whether the Crown Prince is truly capable or not depends on what's going on outside."

"Outside? I heard something interesting outside—the Crown Prince wants to establish registers and require vouchers, and even the purchases by the Imperial Household Department have to be accounted for."

"Ha, transfer the accounts? Can it really be done? Which of those eunuchs would agree?"

"You know what, one of my neighbors delivers copper to the Imperial Household Department. A few days ago, he was complaining that someone came with a plaque from the Eastern Palace asking about the price and weight—asking very detailed questions."

At this point, someone at another table chimed in, lowering their voice:

"The Crown Prince is the Crown Prince, but in Luoyang, the one who can truly crush Qian Lu isn't the Crown Prince, it's—"

He tapped the table lightly with his chopsticks, without mentioning his name, and simply bowed slightly to the north.

The crowd immediately burst into laughter, their laughter tinged with fear.

Liu Bian's eyes remained fixed, but he knew in his heart that they were talking about Emperor Ling of Han.

Then, the conversation turned to what Liu Bian wanted to hear—the major chambers of commerce in Luoyang.

"Hey, do you think I could sell this stuff in Luoyang?"

"If you want to do business in Luoyang, you have to ask Tonglihang first if they agree."

Which company?

"Who else could it be? That company in Shikou that can swallow up half a street. Grain, cloth, salt, carts and horses, and even the donkeys that are currently all the rage in Luoyang, they get involved in everything."

"I heard that their shop is called a guild, and they have connections with the Yuan family of Runan."

"The Yuan family?"

"That's right. The Yuan family, who have held high office for four generations. You think they do business themselves? No, they never get involved—whoever runs errands for them will get away with getting a few less beatings at the city hall and pay 30% less in stall fees."

"What about the dental clinic?"

"Not to mention brokers. In the market, you can't do anything without brokers for matchmaking, weighing, and inspecting goods. If you don't pay them any attention, your truck will be detained as a 'private merchant' as soon as it enters the door."

Some people, quite drunk, started swearing:

"Don't even mention private businesses. I wanted to open a small shop two years ago, but I couldn't find a guarantor. Those bastards at the city government, they talk about regulations but only care about money. Without a backer, your business won't even get registered."

Liu Bian raised his eyes and met Cao Cao's gaze for a moment.

Cao Cao didn't speak, but gently put down his wine bowl. He already had an idea of ​​who would act as his guarantor.

Someone else mentioned the "fight" in the market today, describing it vividly, but glossing over the "kidnappers" and "lime powder," instead praising the market officials for their efficient work.

"Skilled?" someone sneered. "Skilled means taking the money. If you really want to be efficient, hang those kidnappers up and ask them who's behind them."

"What a load of crap. If you dare ask, your child will be gone tomorrow."

This sentence was like a corner of a black cloth suddenly lifted in a tavern; the laughter of the crowd paused for a moment, only to be quickly drowned out by even louder shouts.

Liu Bian heard it clearly in that instant.

He downed the turbid wine in one gulp, feeling a burning sensation in his throat, but he couldn't suppress the even hotter fire burning in his heart.

"Mengde," he began, his voice as soft as casual conversation, "did you hear me?"

Cao Cao nodded: "I heard you."

"If you want to establish a business, the first step is not to open a shop, but to register your name in the books; the second step is not to steal business, but to bypass their front lines; the third step is to find a reliable official bridge to stand on."

Liu Bian nodded, his gaze calm:

"For the guarantor, use Chen Yu."

A hint of approval flashed in Cao Cao's eyes. Chen Yu dared to stand up to Song Jin, which showed he wasn't weak-willed; moreover, he worked in the county government and knew the rules, making him the most suitable person to settle his score. More importantly—he owed a life, not money.

"Starting tomorrow," Liu Bian continued, "we'll first go to the municipal government office, go through the official procedures, set up the business registration, register the business, and find a suitable shop."

He paused, his voice even softer, yet unusually firm:

"Then, I want to do a few things that will make life easier."

Suddenly, a sentence echoed in his mind:

"To establish a moral compass for Heaven and Earth, to secure a destiny for the people, to continue the lost learning of past sages, and to usher in an era of peace for all generations."

Liu Bian smiled and shook his head, saying that he should first think about how to survive.

"Let's go back to the palace."