Wang Boshan nodded. “Yes. They say he’s unwell, but the specifics are unknown.”
Gu Bi frowned. “Could there have been some sort of change?”
Wang Boshan shook his head. “Li Zan and Zhou Leng have always followed Lu You, and the military commanders under him, such as Jin Feng, are all veteran generals who have served him for years.”
“His entire inner circle is still in place. There have been no changes, so logically, there shouldn’t be any problems.”
Gu Bi lowered his head in thought. After a while, he sighed. Although he felt that something was wrong, he couldn’t figure out exactly what.
Lü Cheng said hesitantly, “Could Lu You be trying to keep both sides happy?”
Wang Boshan shook his head. “If he wanted to play both sides, he wouldn’t have asked His Majesty for military supplies in the first place. Wouldn’t that offend both parties?”
Gu Bi’s brows drew together. “Could he have regretted his original choice, or perhaps been threatened by the Sixth Princess?”
Wang Boshan frowned. “That seems impossible, doesn’t it?”
Silence descended over the room, and no one spoke.
After a long while, Gu Bi sighed. “Let’s wait and see what my people find out later.”
Wang Boshan gave a quiet “Mm,” then changed the subject. “When I arrived, it had already begun raining in Sizhou. Is it still raining?”
Concern appeared on Gu Bi’s face. “Yes. It was raining even harder when I arrived. I only hope it’s stopped by now; otherwise, we’ll have trouble bringing in our grain.”
This reminded him of what he had seen along the way. “I noticed that much of the farmland here has already been harvested, but the farmers are still turning over the soil. What are they doing that for?”
Wang Boshan had actually looked into the matter. “The northern lands only produce one crop a year, so they harvest a little earlier than we do in Sizhou, where we grow two crops.”
“As for the plowing, I asked about that. They’re preparing to plant white radishes, vegetables, and other crops that mature quickly and have short growing cycles.”
Gu Bi’s brows knit together. “Aren’t those the high-yield crops developed by Princess Jinyang of Fengzhou?”
Wang Boshan nodded and lowered his voice. “I heard that Lu You once traded dozens of ships’ worth of goods with Fengzhou for their seeds.”
“And I have to admit, those seeds really are highly productive. There’s one crop called potatoes that can even serve as a staple food. Supposedly, those potatoes have saved countless people in Daqing.”
Gu Bi suddenly thought of the Sheng family. “Didn’t the Sheng family of Ze’a Commandery also have high-yield seeds? I don’t recall them having potatoes.”
Wang Boshan thought for a moment, then confirmed, “They certainly didn’t. Still, they managed to establish themselves in Sizhou with nothing more than white radishes, Chinese cabbage, and bok choy.”
“None of those are staple foods, but they can fill people’s stomachs. Once they were supplied to the military, having more vegetables meant less grain was needed with each meal, saving as much as twenty to thirty percent of the army’s provisions.”
The corners of Gu Bi’s mouth lifted. “Once Daqing submits, those potatoes you mentioned can be brought into Sizhou as well. They’ll be just what we need to make up for our shortage of grain.”
Wang Boshan did not disagree. “Indeed.”
While various discussions and investigations were taking place, Sun Zheng in Gefeng was feeling thoroughly miserable.
Bai Wei had arrived in Gefeng the previous day and told him that the money was gone, the ships were gone—in short, everything was gone.
After learning what had happened, Sun Zheng had nearly vomited blood.
Princess Jinyang was simply bullying them!
His negotiations to buy grain were also proceeding extremely poorly.
Dong Si refused to sell, no matter what. Even after Sun Zheng raised the price to five hundred coins per dan, Dong Si still wouldn’t budge.
For a time, Sun Zheng was at a loss. He planned to negotiate with Dong Si one more time. If they truly couldn’t reach an agreement, he would return to Sizhou.
Sun Zheng was deeply unwilling to give up. The losses on this trip to Fengzhou had been far too great. Once he returned to Sizhou, His Majesty would likely punish him.
Ji Wangfei had also been absent every day lately, and no one knew where he kept running off to. He was completely unable to help.
With a sigh, Sun Zheng waved his hand to dismiss his servants, then wandered alone through the streets of Gefeng.
To be fair, Gefeng was extremely safe. He had no need to worry about his personal safety, nor did he have to fear his money or belongings being stolen or robbed.
Before long, he caught the fragrant smell of fried dough sticks.
The fried dough sticks at Choked-to-Death Tavern really were delicious. He came almost every day to eat two, along with a bowl of meat porridge. The combination was heavenly.
No wonder Mo Song had choked to death.
That said, Sun Zheng was always extremely careful whenever he ate them, terrified that he might suffer the same fate. It was truly a ridiculous way to die.
Before he knew it, he had walked into the Gefeng Tavern. “Bring me two fried dough sticks and a bowl of meat porridge.”
“Coming right up. Please wait a moment.”
Luo A’man began frying the dough sticks, though she was clearly not very practiced at it.
Sun Zheng paused and looked up. “Why has the person changed?”
Luo A’man smiled. “Yes, indeed. The tavern keeper and the others said they were going to look at a newly opened shop on South Street, so I came over to help for a while.”
Did she want to come here?
Of course not.
She had been perfectly happy patrolling when they dragged her over, saying they needed to deal with a certain Mr. Sun. Apparently, the man in question was the one sitting before her.
Sun Zheng didn’t suspect anything. The hour was neither early nor late, and there were few customers in the tavern. It was perfectly normal for the tavern keeper to step out for a stroll.
The fried dough sticks were ready soon. Luo A’man placed them on the table, then efficiently ladled out a bowl of porridge, filling it to the brim.
Sun Zheng picked up a fried dough stick and took a bite. Although it had been made by someone else, the taste was the same. It was slightly over-fried, but that only made it more fragrant.
He chewed slowly and contentedly, feeling reluctant to leave. Once he returned, he would never get to eat anything like this again.
He wondered whether there was some special recipe. Could he have his servants try to recreate it after he went home?
The fried dough sticks were famous not only in Gefeng but in Jiu’an, Sizhou, as well.
If he opened a “Commandant Mo Choked to Death Tavern” in Jiu’an, would business be good?
Thinking of Mo Song, who had choked to death, Sun Zheng’s lips curled into a faint smile.
What an idiot.
After finishing one fried dough stick, he scooped up a spoonful of porridge and ate it. It was wonderfully comforting.
He looked at the pedestrians passing outside. His gloomy, oppressed mood had improved considerably, and he picked up the remaining fried dough stick to eat it slowly.
Seeing Sun Zheng eating so happily without anything going wrong, Luo A’man was stunned. Then her eyes gradually brightened.
Could her “bad luck” have finally ended?
The thought that her “bad luck” might be gone filled her with uncontrollable excitement. From now on, she would never again be kept away from ordinary missions.
“Ghk—hrrk…”
Sun Zheng suddenly began pounding his chest, strange noises coming from his mouth.
Luo A’man was jolted awake from her beautiful daydream. Her heart jumped, and she hurriedly asked, “What’s wrong?”
Sun Zheng didn’t hear her. He continued beating his chest as his face gradually turned red.
Luo A’man hurried over. “What’s wrong with you?”
Sun Zheng finally saw her and hurriedly pointed at his throat.
“Ahh—mmph—grr…”
Luo A’man stared at him blankly. She couldn’t understand a word. “What’s wrong? Say something!”
Sun Zheng’s eyes were already bulging. He clawed desperately at his neck, the veins standing out on it.
“Mmgh—grr—ugh—mmgh…”
You idiot! If I could speak, wouldn’t I have told you already?
Luo A’man finally reacted. “Y-Your throat is itchy, isn’t it?”
Sun Zheng: “…”
If he had been able to speak, he would have cursed her out.
Luo A’man continued, “It’s fine, it’s fine. An itchy throat isn’t a serious illness. Just scratch it a few more times and you’ll be fine.”
“Ahh—ghk…”
Sun Zheng’s lips were beginning to turn purple. One hand pounded his chest while the other flailed about instinctively, knocking the bowl of porridge off the table.
With a loud crash, the bowl shattered into countless pieces.
