Chapter 200

Lingnan winter dawn, cold and gentle, without wind.

After an incense stick's burn, the hall of the Xian Xie.

Three people sat around a wooden table, having morning porridge; the room was serene and warm.

On the table, the white porridge was warm, with curling steam that did not dissipate.

Chinu ate the plain porridge slowly, Afang added vegetables with her bare hands, and softly asked again why Chinu wasn't eating well, whether it didn't suit his taste......

Du Shanü overheard for a few breaths, but in the end she couldn't hold back her laughter:

"...... We three are just like a family of three, huh."

Chinu, holding his bowl and resisting the added vegetables: "?"

Chen Weifang, worrying like an old maid: "?"

The two looked at each other, both showing an expression hard to put into words.

Du Shanü, afraid the two would become angry from embarrassment, cheerfully took the pickled vegetables that Afang couldn't get to eat with her chopsticks and put them in her mouth:

"Ah, why bother fussing over the good slave? If he won't eat more, I'll—wait, how is this stuff so awful?!"

"Looking at the pickles, as soon as they entered the mouth a sour, fermented stench rose up the throat straight to the head?"

"Can this even be pickled vegetables?"

"They said it was as foul as a month-old shoe sole, and I believe it!"

Even though she normally has no desire for food, after that first bite she refused a second—no wonder the slave kept guarding his bowl so Afang couldn't add vegetables!

"Who would willingly eat this?"

Seeing the food he refused go into his own Wife Master's mouth, Chinu's worried heart finally died completely:

"...... Wife Master, have you forgotten that we haven't paid the tribute tax for over a month?"

"If we don't pay the tribute tax, we have no salt and iron—these slaves have said so before."

"Although, although the occasion for speaking wasn't quite right, it was indeed said before."

"But given that the two always like to discuss public matters while secretly doing private things......"

"Not remembering is somewhat understandable."

Du Shanü, unwilling to give up, chewed the pickles that were harder than a shoe sole, but finally decided to abandon them outright.

She spat out the pickles and sighed:

"Indeed, we did forget somewhat."

"The so-called tribute tax is also known as tax and levy."

"It is usually the lower level sending money and grain taxes upward."

"Once the higher-level Zhoufu, province, and central authorities receive the tribute tax, they then allocate and distribute it in fixed quotas level by level."

"That's right; in these times, many things can only be obtained through apportioned shares."

"And the most important of these is 【salt and iron】."

"Nowadays salt and iron are state-run; private mining is prohibited."

"Since they haven't paid the tribute tax, they naturally have no allocated salt and iron from above."

"Leitie had been complaining about lacking iron weapons; she could only repeatedly buy farm tools, take the iron from them, and make do—this is precisely why."

"The stock has always been just that much; use more, have less."

"Du Shanü's two cities under her control had just suffered floods, and right after the floods came winter; even if she were determined to strive, secretly mining salt and iron would still be hampered by the circumstances......"

"After all, suitable brine wells and iron mines aren't something you can just find whenever you want!"

"Without salt, the flavor of the pickles naturally suffers greatly."

"Chinu lightly stirred the plain porridge in his bowl, his expression momentarily turning bitter."

"Making pickles also requires fermented soybean......"

"I understand."

"Du Shanü truly understands this time."

"Our good slave is normally clever; perhaps he smelled the taste early on, which is why he refuses to eat."

"Only she, after several nights of exhaustion leaving her voice hoarse and nose resting, chewed several mouthfuls in a row before realizing."

"Du Shanü pinched a bit of sour tears:"

"Forget it, forget it; think positively—at least the Zhoufu hasn't come to chase arrears......"

"When a county fails to deliver its tribute tax, it's called arrears and missing delivery; the Zhoufu's process of pursuing responsibility and demanding payment is called chasing arrears."

"Ordinarily, when county-level arrears occur, the respective Zhoufu, circuit, and province should report upward level by level for investigation, and memorialize the shortfall."

"But now the prefect is half-mad, half-foolish, the Zhoufu is in utter chaos; one would think that's precisely why no one has come for so long......"

"However, even if they did come, Du Shanü truly couldn't produce a single coin for them."

"She still pretends now because she still hopes to hide her brilliance and nurture obscurity."

"If the superiors really insist on acting foolishly, forcing officials to oppress the people, then she would simply raise a banner and revolt."

"As for giving money......"

"What money to give?"

"Where would she get the money......!!!"

"Even if she had money, spending it to consolidate her own power would be better than bitterly scraping by in the cracks."

"Du Shanü, thinking this, also muttered a few words to her good slave."

"Chen Weifang remained silent, listening to their exchange, and a hint of kindness she herself hadn't noticed appeared in her brows and eyes."

"He placed the pickles that neither of them wanted to eat before himself, ate them with the plain porridge, showing no sign of having eaten something unpleasant, his expression completely natural:"

"There's no need to worry so much."

Yesterday I personally led men along the embankment upstream to search; within just two li we found a collapsed mountain body; last night I had the tin miners inspect it, and it is indeed the chicken-nest tin ore, no doubt.

Once this tin vein is mined in the future and we have silver from selling tinware, we can then buy salt and iron from the neighboring Zhoufu or the rural markets.

Naturally, the salt and iron quotas are fixed for each jurisdiction.

But the huge profits from salt and iron cannot be resisted; not only do private traffickers risk the death penalty to mine and profit illegally, but some corrupt officials also manipulate the quotas, reselling for their own gain and lining their pockets.

Although the prices of these goods on the black market fluctuate without a fixed value, dealing with this crowd is not necessarily easy either...

But is the Imperial Court any easier to deal with?

When floods strike, they don't send disaster relief; even sending the mountains' silver and grain taxes over, what good would that do?

It would be better to plan for oneself early on!

Du Shanü also meant exactly that, nodding repeatedly, and then said to Chinu beside her:

"Exactly so... In my haste to get up, did you bring paper and brush, obedient slave?"

"Since we already have tin miners, smelting surely won't be a big deal, but I saw earlier that this vein also contains a lot of associated ores; we shouldn't waste them. I'll draw a few sheets of plans for you; follow these preparations, and when you smelt the tin ore and separate the other associated ores, you'll definitely get twice the result with half the effort."

Du Shanü was very pleased, began counting on her fingers—

Iron hammers, ore screens, wooden troughs for washing ore, fire-resistant clay crucibles, integrated charcoal furnaces, double bellows, charcoal reducing agent, stone master molds, wooden channels, cooling water tanks...

Finally add a simple vertical furnace for pre‑treating the associated ores!

With this setup, not only can we smelt tin ore, but we can also process the vast majority of associated ores; in the future, won't the good days be beckoning to us repeatedly?

Chen Weifang didn't understand what associated ores or a vertical furnace were, and he didn't care at all; instead, seeing Du Shanü ordering Chinu to get up and fetch paper and brush, he immediately looked anxious:

"Don't order Saner around, I'll go, I'll go... let Saner stay and eat."

Chinu: "..."

Du Shanü: "..."

What a kind mother breeds many failures, a kind father also breeds many slaves!!!

She says she wants to draw plans on the dinner table, yet no one stops her; but when Chinu takes paper and brush, everyone feels sorry for him like this?!

As this so‑called Wise Lord, where is there even a hint of a lord's demeanor???

?? Afang's view of a family of three—

? The father who acts as mother, the dear child, the yellow‑haired one who deceives his own dear child.