Crown Prince of the Empire, I quit!

The spring breeze brought a hint of warmth, but it couldn't blow away the tension and expectation on the faces of the crowd gathered in front of the money house.

Next to the long table set up outside the Tongbao Pavilion Money House, several freshly published copies of the Tongbao Business News were held high.

Those who could read read aloud, while those who could not read listened attentively to the news that could change their fate:

"...Any registered good citizen of this country, with household registration documents and verified identity, can apply for the 'Rich People Loan'. A spinning machine is priced at 25 taels, exclusively provided by Tongbao Pavilion, with an additional 5 taels for purchasing yarn and repairing work sheds. Annual interest is 3%, fair to everyone! Plowing water wheels and new agricultural tools are also available for loan, ensuring a good harvest..."

"Three percent annual interest? The unpolished rice collected from the government warehouse earns more than that, right?"

"Twenty-five taels for a spinning loom? I've been washing and mending for half my life, and I've only managed to save less than five taels by living frugally."

"Look carefully, that five taels is for you to buy thread and yarn! Tongbao Pavilion even thought of this?"

"We have our household registration! The government checks our household registration every year, and we're honest farmers! Go get in line!"

The crowd was shocked. The figure of thirty taels was too much for ordinary people struggling to make ends meet.

It was once an unattainable dream.

Now, it is like a thick hanging rope, giving them hope to climb out of the quagmire.

Uncle Zhang from Hexi Village guards the few acres of land inherited from his ancestors and pays rent every year.

The remaining food was barely enough for the whole family to survive. His son went to work in the city for a meager wage.

And they are often deducted.

I watched as the waterwheel of the landlord Li next door irrigated the fertile land day and night.

The little land that depended on the weather for his livelihood seemed even more barren, and Uncle Zhang felt like a huge stone was pressing on his heart.

When the newspaper reached the village, Uncle Zhang was the last one to squeeze into the literacy teacher's courtyard. When he heard that he could borrow money to buy a waterwheel with such a low interest rate, he was shocked.

A light that had not been seen in many years ignited in Uncle Zhang's cloudy eyes.

He clutched the wrinkled household registration paper tightly and rushed to the Tongbao Pavilion branch in the town before dawn.

"Uncle, what do you want to borrow?"

"Water...waterwheel! A waterwheel that can irrigate twenty acres of land!"

Uncle Zhang pointed eagerly at the exquisite drum cart in the brochure, his finger joints turning white from the force.

"Okay! After checking the register, sign this deed and affix your hand seal. I'll pay you twenty taels for the waterwheel, and five taels for the materials for the weir and canal, for a total of twenty-five taels. Annual interest of three percent, payable in three years. What do you say?"

"Three years? Yes, I can!"

Uncle Zhang looked at the clear terms on the document and solemnly pressed his red clay fingerprint.

A month later, when the brand new waterwheel was pushed by the gurgling stream.

It makes a pleasant sound of water, sending clear water into the fields and the canals dug by several neighbors.

Uncle Zhang squatted on the edge of the field, stroking the moist soil with his rough hands.

The first time he smiled, his missing teeth were exposed.

"Dad, we don't have to worry about drought anymore!"

My son ran around the waterwheel excitedly.

"Next year, let's ask Tongbao Pavilion for a loan and buy the new rice seeds mentioned in the newspaper! Our harvest will increase by 30%!"

At the end of Zhihu Lane in the south of the city, Widow Li's house was penniless.

Her husband died early, and she made a living by mending and washing for others.

She wove some coarse cloth and raised a son and a daughter.

Life was very tight, all thanks to her hands covered with thick calluses from overwork.

What she envied most was the two spinning machines of the Wang family at the end of the lane that worked day and night.

Mr. Wang is a famous cloth merchant in the city. He makes a fortune by lowering the wages of hand-weavers.

Widow Li also worked in the Wang family's weaving workshop. She was so tired that her eyes were dizzy and her hands were sore from weaving a piece of cloth.

The copper coins he got in return were only enough to buy a few kilograms of brown rice.

She dreamed of having her own spinning machine.

When the Tongbao Commercial News was posted at the entrance of the alley, Widow Li's heart was beating like a drum.

Twenty-five taels to buy a new textile machine?!

Three percent interest?

This is simply God’s blessing!

She took out the shiny yellow household registration book that was pressed at the bottom of the box, holding it as if it were a rare treasure.

Squeezed into the packed Tongbao Pavilion.

The procedure went surprisingly smoothly. Five days later, a plane half a person high was built.

A gleaming new spinning machine made of wood and iron.

Two servants carefully carried it into her small living room.

Along with it was delivered a bundle of cotton yarn of uniform texture.

The neighbors all looked over to see this rare thing, their eyes full of curiosity and envy.

I didn't dare use it during the day, for fear that the neighbors would gossip about it and it would reach Mr. Wang's ears.

Late at night, when everything was quiet, Widow Li would light a small oil lamp.

Move the spinning machine to the inner room next to the bed.

She carefully studied the method taught by the clerk of Tongbao Pavilion and carefully put the spindle in place.

Click…click…click…click…

The sound of the loom turning was particularly clear and powerful in the quiet night.

This was no longer the exhausting noise of Master Wang's workshop.

But it is her own melody full of hope.

Under the dim light, cotton yarn was quickly wound into thread on the spindle.

As the shuttle moves, the cloth is evenly spread into a fine cloth prototype.

Widow Li's hand followed the movement of the shuttle, feeling the cloth stretching bit by bit under her palm.

What comes from the fingertips is no longer the numbness of pain, but a sense of solid strength.

My daughter Xiaohong rubbed her sleepy eyes and sat up, watching the cloth being woven quickly.

His big eyes were filled with excitement.

"Mom, this cloth is so dense! It must be stronger than the ones woven in Master Wang's workshop!"

Widow Li finally showed a long-lost smile on her face and whispered instructions.

"Keep your voice down, my girl. I'll weave a few more pieces and sell them in the neighboring town. I'll be able to earn more money than when your father was here. Then I'll let you attend a few days of classes in the new literacy class in the neighboring village..."

The spinning machine clattered, like a prelude to a new life woven for this difficult life.

Low but extremely firm.

On the edge of the shanty town where refugees gathered on the outskirts of the city, the failed scholar Wang Mao was in a heavy mood.

After years of studying hard, he had no hope of achieving success, and then his hometown was hit by a flood.

He had no choice but to wander here with his old mother and young sister.

He barely made a living by writing letters and copying books for others.

But when I saw the refugees around me who were either pale and thin or suffering from illness, I felt powerless.

When the Tongbao Business News was delivered to the slum area, it caused even greater commotion.

Borrow money?

Buy tools?

This is like a fairy tale to the refugees.

Who would lend money to these people who have no identity and no place to live?

But Wang Mao keenly caught a hint of possibility.

He read the terms again and again and found that Tongbao Pavilion did not simply reject refugees!

As long as there is a reliable local elder to guarantee, it can be verified that the person's past record is not clean but not a serious crime.

You can also try to apply!

Wang Mao saw hope and found several respected elders among the refugees.

We also found a few young men who were relatively strong and had skills, such as carpentry, masonry, or strength.

"My fellow villagers! Tongbao Pavilion is giving us a chance to survive!"

Wang Mao stood on the mound, waving a newspaper, his voice a little hoarse but full of passion.