Shipin Dalizheng

"Old Wen, you're a martial arts master, but you're obsessed with making money. Is the Prime Minister's Mansion short of your expenses?"

Old Wen sat on the ground, opened a small porcelain jar and sniffed. "A few taels of silver a month is enough for me, but you have great ambitions, so of course the more money the better. Earning it honestly is much better than other methods that give people a reason to criticize you. What do you think?"

Zheng Changzhi pursed his lips, his jade-like face, like an immortal descending from the mortal world, seemed to be lost in thought.

“How’s the profit?”

Old Wen said, "The normal cost is less than five taels. I asked for a few, and they planned to rip me off by making something prettier and selling it to me for a hundred taels. I heard it all."

"so……?"

"So I decided to let them cheat me and asked for three in the name of the young master."

Xuanque shouted, "Old Wen, are you getting senile? Are you willing to be cheated?"

Old Wen ignored her and only looked at Zheng Changzhi. Zheng Changzhi smiled and said, "That's right. If the Left Prime Minister's Mansion is willing to spend a hundred taels to buy it, then others will naturally think that this thing is worth a hundred taels. Later, we can sell it somewhere else. As long as the price is slightly lower than in the capital, there will be many rich people willing to buy it."

Old Wen said, "That's right. Ordinary people can't afford it anyway. Fifty taels, one hundred taels, it makes no difference. Sir, do you want to wait a couple of days to get it and see how it goes before deciding, or do you want to get the blueprints and the process now?"

"Summer only lasts two or three months. It's too late to start preparing now. Send someone to buy a workshop immediately and hire a large number of people for production. I'm going to the Ministry of Industry..."

"Go directly to the Minister of Works."

Old Wen drank the whole can of sweet rice wine as if it were rice soup, smacked his lips, and said, "It tastes okay. Would you like another can, young master?"

Zheng Changzhi showed a look of disgust. He didn't think that anything from Fuxinzhuang was edible.

Old Wen murmured, "What a pity, I feel like this thing can also make money."

After they left, a group of people came out of Fuxin Village, dispersed to guard all the entrances in and out of the village, and strictly prohibited outsiders from approaching.

After the first bundle of sorghum stalks was cut down and carried back to the farmyard, Wei Wu and the others gritted their teeth and trembled for a long time before they could recover. After all, these were unripe crops, and cutting them down now would be a waste, which made them very distressed.

After a long period of mental preparation, he gave the order to start work. Some people peeled the skin, some washed it, some chopped it into small pieces, some squeezed the juice, some filtered the residue, and some lit the fire to boil the juice.

Wei Wu and his friends only now realized how hard these disabled brothers worked. There were three lines in total, and each person in a wheelchair was in charge of one line. They were shouting and yelling as if they were competing with each other to see who could produce the most sweet water.

The three fans were also spinning, dispersing most of the hot air. It was still hot, but not stuffy, which was good enough.

This is when the real benefit of the water trough below comes into view. By using the two buckets alternately, it won't take long to collect a bucket of sweet juice. The residue can be filtered out as quickly as possible and poured into the pot, which greatly reduces the oxidation time. The syrup that comes out will definitely have a beautiful color.

Wei Wu ran back and forth and finally understood why the prince chose those who could not walk first when selecting people for work, and those who could walk and go out were left for consideration later.

Cutting and transporting sorghum is too labor-intensive. There are no good carts on the farm, so most of the sorghum has to be carried back and forth on people's backs. Even if all the movable animals on the farm are driven into the fields, it is still too slow and cannot be used in the workshop.

He said to Rong Tang with shame, "Sir, I won't say anything about the brothers in the workshop, but you see, these guys outside can't be used as laborers. Some of them can't even make a bundle in half a day. How can I have the nerve to charge them full wages? How about this? The guys in the workshop will be paid, and these guys outside will work for free and just get a bowl of porridge."

Rong Tang also considered this situation and called in Rong Dashan, a seasoned farmer, to investigate. Rong Dashan had once helped a local landlord harvest sorghum. A strong adult laborer could harvest an acre of land a day, and the landlord paid him twenty cents and provided him with a meal. For a field full of disabled people like this, if they were paid by the day, Rong Tang would be dead. It would be best to pay by the acre.

Rong Tang proposed a suitable price: 30 wen per mu of land, with no food provided. They could work as they pleased, and after the land was harvested, they would be paid. As for how Wei Wu divided the profits among them, he did not interfere.

Wei Wu also breathed a sigh of relief. As long as the brothers helped each other, went out early and came back late, and worked non-stop to reclaim the land, it would not be a problem to supply the workshop. Just like in previous years, the harvest would be completed in half a month.

By dusk, a total of ten pots of sugar in various forms were produced. The ones that were boiled lightly became thin sugar, and the ones that were boiled hard became hard candy lumps. This was not a problem. The key was that the sugar was made.

After tasting the sugar they made themselves, the remaining soldiers of Fu Xinzhuang almost burst into tears. This is a good thing, very expensive. The prince can make money from it and will not go bankrupt from feeding them.

That night, Rong Tang took a part of it back to Rongjia Village and gave it to Chuncao to continue developing new products.

It was the next day that Mr. Du San received a notice from Fu Xinzhuang, asking him to take ten young women or maids to work in Fu Xinzhuang. He was very confused. Aren't they all physical work? Why are they picking on gender?

When they arrived, they discovered that the workstations for the Duke's family were separate from the others. They were in a large, outward-facing room. Several young women from the farmstead were already busy working on four large eight-person tables pushed together, while a little maid ran around, scrubbing everything.

Uncle Du was confused. He saw a door over there and saw people busy inside. He wanted to go in to see, but was stopped by Erya. "I'm sorry, sir, these are commercial secrets. You can't go in and see them. You can see the finished product after it comes out."

Mr. Du Sanye has seen many finished products. He has also prepared a shop and is ready to stock the goods at any time. During the more than ten days of waiting, he could hardly sleep every night.

You can't see inside, just look at what's in front of you. It should be said that Prince Rong is very conscious of food. The women he invited are young and clean, and they are dressed neatly and refreshingly, which is not offensive.

The same was true for the maids he brought with him. They all wore the standard servant uniforms of the Duke's Mansion, which were uniform and beautiful.

Not long after, the pressed molds were brought out. A woman who seemed to be the housekeeper deftly cut them into even-sized pieces. After they cooled down a bit, she placed them on the eight-immortals table and asked the female workers to wrap them in colored oil paper.

Mr. Du recognizes this, it’s sesame candy.

The maids got the hang of it quickly and were having a lot of fun wrapping the dumplings. Occasionally, some crumbs would fall off, which they would secretly pick up and put in their mouths. The housekeeper would not say anything when she saw this.

After wrapping sesame candies for an hour or so, he made peanut candies. These were the only two kinds of candies he made this morning. Seeing that he had filled several baskets of each, Mr. Du began to lose his patience.

He came to see the sugar making, not the packaging. Obviously, this large room open to the public was not a confidential area.

He turned in another direction, crossing the small bridge he used to use to enter and exit Fuxin Village. He spotted a lame man with one leg and only one hand, holding a wooden hammer, blocking the bridgehead. Seeing him, he asked, "Who are you? This is Fuxin Village's important land, the private property of the Prince of Jian'an. Outsiders are strictly prohibited from entering."

Hey hey!

Third Master Du didn't force his way in. He explained, "I'm from Duke Du's Mansion, the owner of Fuxin Manor. Either you ask your Crown Prince to come out to meet me, or let me, Third Master, go in."

The man hesitated for a moment and said, "Master Du, wait a moment, I'll call someone to come and meet you."

He took a wooden hammer and started beating the gong, making a deafening sound.

Wei Wu came over not long after. Strictly speaking, Fuxinzhuang is now the property of Duke Du's Mansion. Although a shareholding contract has been signed, the actual jurisdiction is in the hands of Rong Tang. He cannot be rude to the people of Duke Du's Mansion.