Food bloggers made fortunes in ancient times

In the following days, Song Yan continued to live a leisurely life in seclusion.

Occasionally, I would receive letters from Song Zhengdu from the post stations along the way, and I would feel relieved to know that he was safe on the journey.

Until this day, Song Wanzhou came to the manor with great momentum.

As soon as I entered the door, I saw Song Yan lying in a rocking chair basking in the sun, holding a book in her hand, looking so comfortable.

Song Wanzhou rushed forward in two steps, snatched the book from Song Yan's hand, and glared at his elder brother angrily: "Brother! You are so leisurely! The shop is busy as hell, but you are hiding here and enjoying your life!"

Song Yan slowly opened her eyes, looked at her little sister's red face, and said with a smile: "You are the most capable one in our family."

"Don't try that!" Song Wanzhou slammed the book on the stone table. "There's something wrong with the accounts at the weaving shop. I've been checking for three days and can't find the problem. And there's also a new rice shop in the west market. The owner and the clerk are having a conflict and they're about to get into a fight!"

Song Yan sat up straight and patted the empty seat beside him: "Sit down and rest for a while, drink some tea and calm down."

Song Wanzhou didn't appreciate it, and put his hands on his hips: "I won't sit! Brother, you must go back to the county with me today. I can't handle these things alone."

Song Yan sighed, knowing that he couldn't escape this time.

He stood up slowly and stretched: "Okay, okay, I'll go change my clothes."

On the way back to the county town, Song Wanzhou kept complaining, "Brother, what happened to you recently? You were not like this before."

Although Song Yan had been lazy sometimes in the past, at least he would check the account books regularly and would inquire about the big and small matters in the workshop and shop.

I've never let go as completely as I do now.

Song Yan looked at the scenery rapidly receding outside the car window and sighed softly: "Nothing, I just feel tired and want to take a rest."

"You can tell me if you are tired," Song Wanzhou's tone softened, "I can help you share the burden."

Listening to Song Wanzhou's caring words, Song Yan felt warm in her heart and smiled slightly: "I know, I won't do this again in the future."

Indeed, he has been too negative during this period.

Ever since discovering the secret of the little pomegranate, Song Yan has been in a state of escape, unwilling to face reality.

But escape is not a solution after all, what is coming will come.

After returning to the county town, Song Yan threw himself back into his busy business.

He first checked the accounting problem of the weaving workshop. After checking for a long time, he found out that two accounts were mixed up.

Then he went to the rice shop in the west of the city to mediate the conflict and discovered that the shopkeeper had withheld the employees' wages, causing public outrage.

Without saying a word, Song Yan dismissed the shopkeeper and promoted a clerk with outstanding performance from another shop to take over.

After dealing with these trivial matters, Song Yan went around to each shop to understand their recent business conditions.

Ma Kaicheng was so excited that he almost cried when he saw him finally show up: "Brother Song, you are finally back! If you don't come, I will go to the farm to look for you!"

"Aren't you back? You've been working hard lately."

Ma Kaicheng scratched his head and smiled honestly: "It's not hard, there are just a few big orders that need your personal review."

Song Yan nodded and followed Ma Kaicheng into the back hall of the shop.

There was a pile of orders and account books on the table. He flipped through them and found that business was indeed much more prosperous than before.

"Not bad, Xiao Ma, it seems you have a talent for business." Song Yan praised.

Ma Kaicheng smiled embarrassedly: "It's all thanks to Brother Song's good teaching."

In the following days, Song Yan became busy again.

He attended to the affairs of the shop and workshop during the day, and took time to look over the accounts of the estate at night.

Although he still had some resentment about Little Pomegranate, he understood that he could not continue to indulge in negative emotions.

That day, Song Wanzhou told him that Prince Hui's Palace had placed another large order with the embroidery shop, for 8,000 cotton-padded coats and cotton shoes.

Song Yan was working on an abacus. He paused when he heard this. He looked up at Song Wanzhou and asked, "So many?"

Song Wanzhou nodded, his eyes sparkling with excitement: "The palace manager said that these are winter clothes prepared for the guards. Brother, this is a big deal!"

Song Yan suppressed the uneasiness in his heart and asked casually, "When is the delivery date?"

"Within two months." Song Wanzhou looked through the order. "Time is a bit tight. I have contacted several familiar embroidery workshops and plan to subcontract some of the work."

Song Yan nodded thoughtfully.

Eight thousand cotton-padded clothes and cotton shoes, this scale has increased significantly compared to last year.

How many people does Little Pomegranate’s guard have expanded to?

"Brother?" Seeing that he was distracted, Song Wanzhou waved his hand in front of his eyes, "What are you thinking about?"

"It's okay." Song Yan came back to her senses. "Tell the embroidery workshop to work quickly, but remember, don't spread this matter."

Song Yan warned: "The fewer people who know about the palace's order, the better."

Song Wanzhou blinked. Although he didn't understand why his elder brother was so cautious, he still nodded obediently: "I know, brother."

Afterwards, Song Yan asked someone to find out.

It was discovered that Prince Hui's palace not only recruited young and strong men from the refugees, but also recruited many martial arts masters from all over the country.

And all this was done in secret, without any fanfare.

Song Yan felt increasingly uneasy, but there was nothing she could do.

He just hoped that Little Pomegranate would act with caution and not expose himself too soon.

In the blink of an eye, autumn passed and winter came, and the first snow arrived as expected.

Song Zhengdu's letter to a scholar from Jiangnan was filled with admiration for the scenery of Jiangnan and his thirst for knowledge.

As Song Yan read the letter, she felt as if she was touring the famous scenic spots in Jiangnan following the words in the letter.

"Brother, Jiangnan is indeed a land of outstanding people and flourishing literary style. I visited several great scholars here and benefited a lot..."

Song Yan carefully put away the letter, picked up a pen and wrote back, reminding his brother to be careful and wear more clothes when it was cold.

This winter is a little colder than in previous years. Orders from weaving workshops and embroidery shops are pouring in like snowflakes, especially for cold-resistant items such as cotton-padded clothes and quilts, which are almost in short supply.

Song Wanzhou was so busy that he went out before dawn every day and came back late at night. His little face looked thinner.

Song Yan himself was not idle either. In addition to handling daily affairs, he also had to deal with negotiations with grain merchants from all over the country.

The climate was dry this year and many places suffered from poor harvests. Only in Yunshan County, the harvest was still good because of the planting of drought-resistant crops such as sweet potatoes and corn.

Many grain merchants from other places heard the news and came to buy large quantities of grain from him.

Song Yan was only willing to sell a small amount, and most of the grain was stored by him.

In troubled times, food is lifeline, and he will not give up long-term security for the sake of short-term gains.

At the beginning of the evening, Song Yan returned to his villa after socializing with grain merchants from Liaodong. Surprisingly, the lights were on in the house.

Song Yan's heart was pounding. She ran up the stairs and pushed the door open quickly, but there was no one inside.

In an instant, a feeling of loss came over me.

I feel an indescribable melancholy in my heart.

It would be great if Shu Changyu were here.

He had a lot to say, but every time he picked up the pen, he didn't know where to start.

The warmth carried by words is a little thin, how can it compare to a "I'm here" spoken to you in person.

Song Yan sighed, slowly took off his cloak that was soaked by the snow water, and was about to hang it up when he was suddenly hugged from behind.

A faint cold fragrance came over, carrying the chilling scent of fresh snow.

Song Yan turned around suddenly and saw the face she had been thinking about day and night.