Chapter 68

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"Two thousand seven hundred and ten stones, seven dou, and five sheng." Du Ziteng answered without hesitation.

"So much?" Wang Xian frowned. "There are only a little over nine thousand stones of grain in the warehouse."

"There's nothing we can do," Du Ziteng pouted his thick lips. "It rains all the time in Jiang-Zhe, and the grain gets damp very easily." He then said proudly, "You can ask around; in the entire Zhejiang province, there are only a handful of places where the loss due to mold is less than thirty percent."

"I didn't expect you to be such an expert, sir." Wang Xian smiled and responded.

"I dare not," Du Ziteng said seriously. "Even in a low position, one must not forget the worries of the country." However, his chubby face seemed to have little to do with the word 'upright.'

"What kind of grain needs to be processed?" Wang Xian changed the subject and asked.

"Old grain, moldy grain, and grain that has been contaminated by rats." Du Ziteng said, "Come and take a look." He led Wang Xian to the T-shaped warehouse. As soon as they opened the door, the pungent smell of mold almost knocked them over.

Wang Xian quickly covered his nose, but Du Ziteng seemed to be used to it. He scooped up a handful of grain and scattered it on the ground, then stepped on it, turning it into powder. "This is grain that has molded and dried. Even rats won't eat it."

"What if humans eat it?" Shuai Hui asked curiously.

"It can kill people," Du Ziteng said. "So it must be processed."

"Um." Wang Xian nodded. The air in the warehouse was better, so he walked around inside and then came out to ask, "Is all the grain like this?"

"More or less," Du Ziteng nodded. "According to the rules, pigs are kept in the warehouse. Any grain that the pigs won't eat must be processed."

"Then..." Wang Xian asked casually, "What about the rest of the grain?"

"The rest of the grain is divided into two types: new grain and old grain," Du Ziteng said. "Old grain is from last year's autumn harvest, and new grain is from this year's autumn harvest. Because this year's autumn tax was delayed, most of the grain in the warehouse is old grain."

"Is it the same in the Jia warehouse?" Wang Xian coughed twice and asked.

"That's not the case," Du Ziteng said. "That's the grain returned by the people for the spring famine relief. However, since the people in Fuyang are generally wealthy, not many borrowed grain in the spring, so there's not much to return in the autumn... Only the Jia warehouse has new grain." The people borrowed unhusked rice, but had to return white rice, and there was no arguing with the government. "After the old grain is processed, we will buy new grain. The ratio of new to old grain will be four to six, which is in line with the regulations."

"How about other counties?" Shuai Hui asked again.

"Productive counties have a ratio of six to four, and counties like ours generally have a ratio of five to five," Du Ziteng said, holding his fat belly and laughing loudly. "That's because they waste too much, so they have to buy more new grain every year!"

"Sir, you are indeed an expert." Wang Xian smiled slightly. "You've given us a general overview. Shall we start the inventory check?"

"Inventory... check?" Du Ziteng's thick lips trembled. Wasn't this just a formality?

"Is there a problem?" Wang Xian glanced at him coolly. His gaze was not sharp, but it made Du Ziteng's whole body tremble. He quickly shook his head and said, "What problem could there be..." He looked at the sky and said, "But it's so late now, we won't finish. Why don't we come back early tomorrow..."

"Let's do as much as we can." Wang Xian clapped his hands, and Shuai Hui went out to lead in a group of clerks and constables.

Only then did Du Ziteng realize that the other party was like an owl entering a house—no good news. He wiped his sweat with a handkerchief in the cold winter and said, "Let them do the work, shall we go inside for tea?"

"Sir, you go ahead and drink." Wang Xian, dressed in a blue robe, stood straight and shook his head. "I'm not thirsty."

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Inside the Yongfeng Warehouse, in the Xu warehouse.

Large stone containers marked with large black 'Official' characters were placed next to each grain trough.

Next to each trough stood a clerk in a white robe, holding a brush and a ledger. The constables and grain inspectors brought by Wang Xian used large wooden shovels to scoop the grain into the containers. Soon, the warehouse was filled with dust, making it hard to open one's eyes.

Wang Xian and Du Ziteng sat outside, drinking tea and listening to the coughing inside. Wang Xian teased, "There's a lot of dust in the grain."

"There's nothing we can do. Old grain is like this. You'll get used to it." Du Ziteng smiled awkwardly.

"I hope so." Wang Xian squinted, looking at the setting sun. "Du Sir, when else is the grain in this warehouse used besides for spring famine relief?"

"Also for stabilizing grain prices and disaster relief." Du Ziteng said.

"Stabilizing grain prices doesn't seem to be effective, though," Wang Xian said curiously. "In other counties, two stones of grain cost one tael of silver, but in our county, it's almost twice as much, and during the spring famine, it even reached two taels per stone."

"There's nothing we can do. Our county is 'eight mountains, half water, and half fields,' and the people are wealthy," Du Ziteng said with a bitter smile. "Most people rely on buying grain to eat and pay taxes, so how can the grain prices not be high?"

"Fuyang is not far from Hangzhou and Shaoxing, and the transportation is convenient. It shouldn't be this different, right?" Wang Xian said curiously. "Is someone manipulating the market?"

"That's hard to say." Du Ziteng coughed twice. "However, fewer and fewer people are growing grain in Zhejiang, and Hangzhou and Shaoxing don't have surplus grain. What can we do if the grain merchants don't sell to us?"

"I see..." Wang Xian nodded. At that moment, a dusty figure emerged, coughing and cursing, "How wicked! Not only do they mix sand and dirt into the rice, but they even add lime!" From the figure and the voice, it was clearly Wu Xiaopang.

"That's to prevent dampness and pests," Du Ziteng explained quickly. "Quick, bring some vegetable oil."

Unexpectedly, the warehouse always had vegetable oil on hand. An old grain inspector quickly brought a basin of vegetable oil. The person washed his face, and it was indeed Wu Wei, who grinned at Wang Xian, "Sir, before we report the numbers... why don't you check the grain first?" He then presented a large ladle to Wang Xian.

All the grain in this warehouse was unhulled rice. Even if it were old rice, it should have been uniformly light yellow, but Wang Xian saw a variety of things in the ladle—far too many.

"Screen it!" Wang Xian glanced at Du Ziteng, who had turned pale.

A constable immediately brought a sieve and carefully screened a container of rice. When only the rice remained in the sieve, the large cloth on the ground was covered with rice husks, dry grass, dirt, and chunks of lime.

When the rice was measured, it was less than seven sheng.

Wang Xian grabbed a handful of deep yellow rice and smelled a strong moldy odor. He looked at Du Ziteng coldly. "This rice is too old, isn't it?"

"Hehe..." Du Ziteng's thick cheeks trembled as he wiped his sweat. "With so many warehouses and nearly ten thousand stones of grain, there are bound to be oversights."

"Yes," Wang Xian nodded. "We'll see if it's an oversight or intentional." He turned to Wu Wei, whose eyes were bloodshot, and said, "Tell the men to stop counting the quantity and only check the condition of the grain."

"Sure thing." Wu Wei was delighted, and the men cheered, finally relieved...

The inventory check was just a cover; this was Wang Xian's real purpose.

The constables used hollow bamboo tubes to deeply insert into the bottom of each grain trough and then collected the grain into containers marked with the corresponding warehouse number.

By the time all the containers were sealed and gathered in the brightly lit front hall, it was already dark. Wang Xian waved his hand, and the constables loaded the containers onto a cart.

"Du Sir, there are twelve containers, six stones of grain. This is the IOU from the county office." Wang Xian handed the IOU to Du Ziteng.

Since then, Du Ziteng's face had been pale, and he trembled, not daring to take the IOU, as if it were a red-hot iron plate. His lips quivered, and he looked at Wang Xian pitifully, saying, "Brother, give me a way out..."

"Du Sir, you are mistaken," Wang Xian said coldly. "I am here to save your life." He looked at Du Ziteng's oily, fat face and said, "Otherwise, if I parade through the streets in broad daylight and let the people of the county know that their life-saving grain is in this state, do you think they would eat you?" He waved his hand and said, "Escort Du Sir to the county office!"

Two constables stepped forward and sandwiched Du Ziteng in the middle. The soldiers guarding the warehouse wanted to stop them but were intimidated by Wang Xian's fierce gaze!

Under the pale light, Wang Xian's eyes flashed with a fierce light. He scanned the soldiers and said coldly, "No one is allowed to go home tonight. Guard the warehouse well! If anything goes wrong, you will all die without a burial place! Stand aside!"

With a loud command, the soldiers actually moved aside...

Wang Xian was still not satisfied and ordered Wu Wei and others to stay on duty at the warehouse. He then escorted the grain and Du Ziteng back to the county office.

In the back office of the county office, the lights were bright tonight. Wei Zhixian had already received the news and ordered the arrest of Zhou Yang and the other two major grain merchants in the county. He was still angry and summoned Li Sheng and the clerk Diao to the flower hall.

When Du Ziteng and the grain containers were brought in, anyone involved in the illegal buying and selling of official grain knew that the plot had been exposed.

"Today, I invite all of you to dinner," Wei Zhixian said expressionlessly.

"Sir, we dare not," everyone hurriedly forced a smile. "We have already eaten."

"Consider it a midnight snack," Wei Zhixian said and then fell silent. The bailiffs set up a pot outside the flower hall and cooked a pot of rice with the grain Wang Xian had brought back. They then served each person a bowl.

"This is the life-saving grain prepared for the 110,000 people of Fuyang!" Wei Zhixian sat under the lamp, his face hidden, but his voice betrayed his agitation. "Please enjoy your meal."

"This..." Everyone looked at the bowl of rice, which smelled pungent and was mixed with rice husks and sand. Just the smell made them feel nauseous, let alone eating it. They all...

"Eat!" Wei Yuan slammed the table and roared.

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