That kind of high fever is like the Grim Reaper suddenly coming to claim your life, the kind where you're going to die the next day.
Qiao Lian'er asked mysteriously, "So, how much money did Doctor Chen ask for?"
Dr. Chen was a little embarrassed and coughed twice while touching his chin.
"Not much, not much, one box of medicine sold for fifty taels."
Qiao Lian'er gave a thumbs up. She thought she was quite shrewd in business sometimes, but it turned out there were many people even more shrewd than her.
However, Dr. Chen has one redeeming quality: he preys on the wealthy but not the poor.
"Since it can sell for so much money, should I raise the price?" Qiao Lian'er felt that she had set the price too low at the beginning.
Dr. Chen immediately became alert: "How much will the price increase be?"
"Not too expensive, not too expensive, ten taels per box."
"The price suddenly doubled, isn't that outrageous?" Doctor Chen realized he had been careless and shouldn't have told Qiao Lian'er about making so much money.
"Dr. Chen, how much you earn isn't up to you, is it? Selling medicine is about saving lives, and human life is priceless, you know what I mean."
"Moreover, it wasn't an easy task for me to produce these medicines."
Dr. Chen thought about it and agreed. He could just raise the price a bit more to cover the costs he'd already incurred; his only concern was that the girl wouldn't sell him the medicine.
"Ten taels a box is not impossible, but I have one condition: the price must not be raised again in the future." Dr. Chen said with a bitter face: "If the price is too high, people may say that I am asking for an exorbitant price and have no medical ethics."
“Okay, after this time, the price won’t be raised again,” Qiao Lian’er promised.
The reason she ordered five taels the first time was mainly because she didn't know that people would buy these medicines even at such high prices.
"You said you'd produce a batch of medicine every three days, and six days have passed. There should be two boxes of each item by now."
Qiao Lian'er took a large box off the carriage; there were two boxes of each type of medicine, for a total of twelve boxes.
In total, it amounts to one hundred and twenty taels.
Dr. Chen held the box as if it were a great treasure.
Several hundred taels of silver is something that can be earned.
One hundred and twenty taels wasn't a big loss for me.
Qiao Lian'er calculated that the family now had about 320 taels of silver. She decided to buy a large shop to rent out, and use the rest to prepare for the tax collection in a few days.
"Sister, you can make so much money selling these pills?" Qiao Dayong was stunned. This was even easier than selling ingredients; it required almost no effort at all.
"Yes, Brother Dayong, my medicine can save lives, and I can sell it in large quantities, so Doctor Chen is very generous with it."
Anyway, these special medicines in the space are produced in batches every three days. If they are not taken, they will expire and become worthless. It's good to take them and sell them.
Qiao Lian'er drove the carriage to the West Street Market and, sure enough, saw Ling Yin and Qiu Shi selling spicy cabbage.
This time, they had seven or eight large jars on their stall, and several people were gathered around it.
Once that crisis was over, they could make money without any burden.
“Brother Dayong, go help them. There are 100 catties of chili powder on the carriage. You can carry it down too. I’m going to buy a shop.”
Da Yong straightened his clothes, carried the chili powder, and got off the carriage.
The carriage was traveling in relatively remote areas, so it wasn't immediately apparent what was going on. However, as it headed towards the city center, the situation changed.
Qiao Lian'er saw people dressed as yamen runners, people in black robes embroidered with silver eagles, and people in soldier uniforms. These three types of officials, dressed together, entered the teahouses, taverns, and shops with an imposing air.
Holding the document in their hands, they read its contents aloud, which roughly stated that half of the grain tax was to be collected, and demanded that the boss and manager hand over the account books and pay half of the money.
Chaos broke out on this street; people were filled with fear and paranoia.
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