Chapter 149: Truly Skilled at Making Money, Questioned

**Chapter 149: A Real Money-Maker – Under Scrutiny**

Although the Bing family and the Nan family had prepared themselves for the desolation of Fengzhou City, they were still shocked upon their first arrival.

"Is this really Fengzhou? How can a prefectural city look just like our village?" Madam Gu remarked disdainfully, glancing around.

Even though they had anticipated Fengzhou’s barrenness, no one expected a proper prefectural city to be so desolate, indistinguishable from a village.

"The way the commoners on the streets look at us is terrifying—like we're prey in their sights," Miao Shi said fearfully.

Bing Silang frowned. "Why are the onlookers all elderly, weak, women, and children? Where are the able-bodied men? Even young boys are rare."

After Bing Silang voiced this question, everyone fell silent, all thinking the same thing—war. All the men must have been conscripted, leaving only the elderly, women, and children behind.

The group remained quiet as they were escorted by the guards to the private quarters.

Compared to their residence in Ji County, this place was far inferior, but it was still much better than what the commoners lived in. In fact, the contrast made it seem almost luxurious.

When Bing Wengu returned in the evening, the family had prepared a hearty dinner, mostly consisting of food bought along the way.

The Bing family and the Nan family were considerate—no one mentioned the desolation of Fengzhou City.

"Big Brother, should we start the family business now?" Bing Silang asked. "Given how poor the people of Fengzhou are, opening our workshops could provide them with some employment."

"Sounds good," Bing Wengu replied. "Prices in Fengzhou are low now—we should buy more land and properties."

Bing Erniang and Feng Sanlang exchanged glances, both puzzled. Why invest in land and houses when Fengzhou was so barren? With the city's population barely exceeding ten thousand, who would buy them? Most people probably couldn’t even afford food.

Elder Brother Nan laughed. "That’s a given. When we first arrived in Ji County, it was just as desolate. Shops were practically given away at prices that were a steal. But within three years, by the time we left, their value had tripled or quadrupled. If we had stayed longer, the prices would’ve risen even higher."

Bing Erlang nodded in agreement. "Buying land and properties is a goldmine—low risk, high reward. Tomorrow, I’ll go check things out and reinvest all the money I made from Ji County’s real estate here."

"Silang, maybe you shouldn't go all in," Bing Erniang said cautiously, aware of how much he must have earned from Ji County’s property sales. Worried he might lose it all, she tried to dissuade him.

Bing Silang waved her off. "Second Sister, trust me—trust Big Brother. Even if you’re strapped for cash, invest in at least one property. It’s a guaranteed profit. Back in Ji County, when we were so poor, we even took out loans to buy property. And look how much we made."

Fearing Bing Erniang might be swayed, Feng Sanlang quickly interjected, "We don’t have much capital yet—we’ll think about it after saving up more."

If this weren’t his brother-in-law, Bing Silang would have scolded him for being shortsighted. But out of respect for family ties, Bing Silang held his tongue.

"Silang, you can proceed with other businesses, but hold off on the Glass Workshop for now." Fengzhou was too poor to afford such luxuries.

"Big Brother, whatever you need, just say the word." Bing Silang immediately understood that Bing Wengu had other plans.

"I need you to start a cement factory," Bing Wengu laid it out plainly.

"Cement?" Bing Silang was puzzled. "Big Brother, is this something new you've developed?"

"I read about it in a book," Bing Wengu said casually.

Upon seeing Fengzhou’s low, packed-dirt city walls, Bing Wengu had immediately thought of cement.

At this time, the Great Yong (the dynasty's name) had no cement—city walls were typically built from large stones. But this uneven surface provided handholds for enemies during sieges. Smooth cement walls would make climbing nearly impossible, greatly increasing the difficulty of an attack.

"Got it. Just tell me how to proceed, and I’ll follow your lead," Bing Silang agreed without further questions.

Bing Wengu continued delegating tasks. "Husband, you and Eldest Sister will recruit workers tomorrow to build a Taoist temple for Qing Jingzi (Master of Purity) and his fellow disciples. Also, find a large plot of land—or buy the whole property—to settle Madam Wu and the others."

Elder Brother Nan immediately offered, "Brother-in-law, perhaps I should go with them. I don’t feel comfortable letting them go by themselves."

"Have Ping An and the servants go with them; there's no need for you to come. The city is almost devoid of able-bodied men, only the elderly, weak, women, and children remain. A strapping young man like you might scare folks. It's more appropriate for a Shuang Er and a woman to handle this," Bing Wengu explained.

Nan Dalang, reminded by Bing Wengu, finally realized the issue. "You've got a good eye for these things, brother-in-law."

"Guess we'll need to hire women workers then," Nan Jinping said.

"Nothing to be done about that," Aunt Bing sighed. "We’ll try to recruit stronger women. But I imagine the women who’ve survived in Fengzhou this long are far from delicate—at least as tough as our village women. They ought to handle construction just fine."

Seeing that Bing Wengu hadn’t assigned any tasks to the Nan family, Miao Shi quickly asked, "Son-in-law, is there anything we can do to help? Just name it."

"Mom and Dad, I’d like you to focus on setting up the tofu and soybean oil workshops as soon as possible. Fengzhou folks are having it rough, and these affordable foods could improve their lives."

"Alright, we’ll start tomorrow."

Bing Wengu nodded. "Keep wages low for now, and settle mostly with food."

Fengzhou lacked supplies—money didn't go far here.

"Understood," everyone agreed.

Come morning, the Bings and Nans were hard at work. Folks kept a close eye on their doings. While puzzled by their large-scale purchases of land and property, they could grudgingly accept it.

But when Nan Jinping and Aunt Bing hired workers to build a Taoist temple, the locals got antsy.

Even the military began spreading unfavorable rumors. "Tch! Knew that one was bad news. Barely arrived and instead of fighting the Xiongnu, he’s building a temple. What, is he planning to summon gods when the Xiongnu attack?"

"You don’t understand. He’s done too many dirty deeds and is scared. Putting up temples is just to dodge karma."

Baili Wuya heard these rumors but looked the other way—he thought the same himself.

Even Cong Lin and others, who were Bing Wengu’s men planted in the army, got the cold shoulder.

Cong Lin couldn’t let these rumors sap the troops' spirit, so he reported to Bing Wengu immediately. Bing Wengu made a surprise visit to the barracks, caught several soldiers spreading rumors, and had them stripped and whipped in public until their flesh split open.

But these soldiers were thick-skinned; mere beatings wouldn’t silence them. So Bing Wengu cut their rations in half. The reduced portions wouldn’t starve them, but combined with intense training, the constant hunger ate at them—especially when their comrades ate their fill while they went hungry. That shut the talk down quick.

Baili Wuya, the Military Commissioner, had done nothing to stop the rumors, so Bing Wengu didn't pull any punches—he demoted him and installed Cong Lin in his place.

Cong Lin wasn’t as skilled in martial arts as Baili Wuya, but with Bing Wengu’s backing, Baili Wuya had to swallow it.

To stabilize the shaken morale from the officer reshuffle, Bing Wengu went with rewards and punishments.

During training, soldiers competed for top three rankings and "most improved" awards. With Fengzhou being so poor, extravagant rewards weren’t feasible—just an extra egg or piece of meat per meal was enough to get them fired up.

Cong Lin, as the new Military Commissioner, naturally served as the judge for these competitions, firming up his position without needing further explanation.

One day, Bing Wengu entered the yamen and summoned Shen Chengzhou. "How much of Fengzhou’s farmland was cultivated this year? How much remains unused?"

Shen Chengzhou presented the records from Bing Wengu’s earlier survey.

Due to poor soil, Fengzhou’s harvests had always been meager. This year, nearly half to sixty percent of the land lay fallow.

"The Xiongnu raided at the worst time—right during planting season. They stole the seeds many families had stored, leaving them nothing to sow," Shen Chengzhou explained.

Bing Wengu pondered, then said, "I’ve brought hybrid seeds. We can distribute them to the people."

Hearing this, Shen Chengzhou got suspicious instead of grateful. He didn’t believe anyone would spend so much money without reason—especially when even the court had abandoned Fengzhou.

Sure enough, Bing Wengu continued, "Treat it as a loan from the yamen to me. The yamen can repay me after the harvest."

"The local government office's seed grain?"

"Since the local government lends seed grain to the people, of course they must repay it after harvesting," Bing Wen said, as if stating the obvious.

Shen Chengzhou's expression darkened. "How much will the people actually have to repay?"

"Just return the same amount borrowed."

Shen Chengzhou nodded outwardly but thought dismissively. They all knew how these things worked—every official in the yamen understood the tricks involved in tax collection.

Though officials claimed it was "borrow as much, repay as much," there were always ways to manipulate the process.

They might issue a sheng of grain with husks, yet demand back a sheng of clean, husk-free grain. Then by rigging the scales, one sheng could easily become two—or even more.

Many local offices relied on such methods to collect extra grain taxes, which was also why commoners often bribed the tax collectors.

Shen Chengzhou thought bitterly: truly a fine official, skilled at "earning money." Even in a poor prefecture like Fengzhou, he had found a plausible-sounding method to bleed the people dry. What sharp wit he possessed—if only he'd applied it to fighting the Xiongnu, perhaps he really could have won.

No matter how Shen Chengzhou schemed inwardly, however, he had no choice but to comply. He ordered someone to notify the people to come and collect the seed grain.

Once the news spread, it caused quite a stir among the people of Fengzhou.

Some of Shen Chengzhou’s relatives, anticipating trouble, sent messengers to inquire.

Shen Chengzhou spoke plainly, "I don’t know what kind of man this new Prefect Bing is. But when his family arrived, you all saw the lavish display. With so much wealth, he must be very good at making money. So I can't say for sure how the repayment of the seed grain will go."

This was practically a clear warning—only short of directly saying that the repayment process would be rigged.

A relative sighed, "Even knowing it's a trap, we have no choice but to take the risk. What else can we do? There isn't a single grain left at home, and our fields would go to waste otherwise. At least if we borrow seeds, we can plant something. No matter how they make us repay at harvest time, we’ll still end up with some grain."

After the relative left, Shen Chengzhou’s wife, Zhou, asked, "My lord, I once heard from those who looked into this new prefect that he may have improved the seed grain to increase yields. If the reports are true and production does rise by half, then repaying more at harvest might not be unreasonable."

Shen Chengzhou’s face grew troubled. "That’s not my only concern, wife. Have you considered the Xiongnu? Come harvest season, they will surely raid. If they steal the grain, how will the people repay the prefect? After working all year, they’ll end up with nothing but debt. How will they survive?"

Zhou pressed a handkerchief to her chest in alarm. "Then I’ll warn my parents and relatives not to borrow seed grain from the yamen just for the sake of higher yields."

Shen nodded. "Go ahead."

Many others shared this cautious mindset—those whose lives were barely sustainable and couldn’t afford any setbacks. These people chose not to borrow the seed grain.

As for those with nothing left, they had no such luxury of caution. When survival itself was already impossible, hesitation meant nothing.