Liang Shuyan delivered all the medicinal herbs she bought to the village. In addition to storing some for each household, Li Zheng also placed some herbs in the village's ancestral hall for future use.
After a moment's hesitation, Li Zheng gave Liang Shuyan all the money he had saved.
“Auntie, you must accept this money. These medicinal herbs are for you to make cosmetics, and I can’t just embezzle them. Take it first, and I’ll try to find a way to get the rest for you.”
Liang Shuyan waved her hand and said, "Lizheng, don't be so polite. The epidemic is still so serious. Although I have these medicinal herbs to make cosmetics, what good would it do me to make cosmetics in the current situation? Who would buy them? Everything should be for the greater good. We can talk about it after the epidemic is over."
Li Zheng gave an awkward smile, and thankfully, the matter of the cartload of medicinal herbs was no longer mentioned.
Inside the tent, Liang Shuyan was busy, while several women from the village stood aside, helping to ladle out the cooked medicine and serve it to the patient.
Zhao Heng was a good boy. His father was a county magistrate, but he never thought that being the son of a county magistrate meant he would receive any special treatment. He wore a long blue gown and carefully fed the patient medicine and inquired about his condition.
Someone inside the tent recognized him and said, "You, you're the magistrate's son?"
Zhao Heng nodded gently: "Well, that's not important. My father is the county magistrate. Now that such an important matter has happened in the county, I'll do my part to help my father."
Inside the tent, news kept spreading that Zhao Heng was a kind and filial child, that the magistrate was a good official, and that even the magistrate's son was so kind and sensible, surely a child destined for good fortune.
Under the cover of night, Zhao Heng stood alone outside the tent, watching the bustling scene. His gaze was deep, as if he could see through the chaos of the world. He smiled slightly, a smile tinged with helplessness, yet filled with unwavering determination. He knew that this battle had only just begun, and he had to hold this position for everyone who needed him.
Inside the tent, the faces of the newcomers were unfamiliar, but Zhao Heng could see something familiar in their eyes—a yearning for life, an anticipation of hope. They clung tightly to the edge of the tent as if grasping at straws, hoping for a miracle.
Outside the tent, Zhao Heng could only watch silently as several people with high fevers were carried away. Their pain and struggle pierced his heart. But he knew he couldn't give up; he had to persevere.
The air inside the tent seemed to freeze. The newcomers exchanged no words, only glances. Zhao Heng's gaze slowly slid across their faces, revealing faces that, though unfamiliar, shared a common emotion—a steadfast commitment to life and a steadfast belief in the future. Their eyes, like the deep night sky, held endless hope and anticipation.
They gripped the edge of the tent tightly, as if it were the only thing that could give them a sense of security. Their fingers dug deep into the fabric, like grasping at a straw, hoping it would pull them out of the abyss of despair. Each person breathed cautiously, afraid of missing even the slightest breath of life.
Liang Shuyan took over all the notes Zhao Heng had made and organized them briefly.
"Zhao Heng, what do you plan to do with recording these things?"
Zhao Heng glanced at Liang Shuyan and said somewhat awkwardly, "Auntie, I just wanted to write it down to see if there were any commonalities in this disease. Maybe I can even find a cure for it?"
Liang Shuyan didn't say anything, but nodded and said with great appreciation, "Good child, I didn't expect you to have such a cunning mind."
Magistrate Zhao summoned some wealthy merchants, intending to provide some money to resettle some disaster victims after the epidemic.
"Thank you everyone for coming to our county to enjoy the flowers!"
Everyone exchanged glances. Magistrate Zhao was notoriously stingy and lacked any sense of romance. When would he ever be in the mood to invite people to admire flowers, especially during this pandemic? Even a ghost wouldn't believe that.
No one spoke up; no one wanted to be the first fish to be slaughtered.
The county magistrate was no pushover either. At this point, he wouldn't wait for these fat fish to sign up on their own. He would take the initiative and make these merchants reveal their assets in order to achieve his own goals.
"Master Chen, how is business at the silk shop?"
Master Chen did not expect the county magistrate to bring her up first. Then he resorted to his old tricks, crying poor and crying poor: "Where is it? This year is very bad. There are several silk and cloth shops in town. My silk and cloth shop has lost tens of thousands of taels of silver. Now I can't even afford to pay the rent for the house."
How could the county magistrate not know the habits of this Master Chen? He could only cry poverty, and he would find ways to evade taxes. Not only did he refuse to pay taxes, but he also withheld the workers' wages. The workers were supposed to earn 15 coins a month, but he would find ways to make them receive less than 5 coins. As a result, the workers had to do everything in the shop, and he even made the shop staff do the work that was done in his own home.
"Alright, stop playing the poor card. For so many years, not only have you not paid taxes, but every time it's tax time, you make an excuse to go out of town to buy goods and close the shop for more than a month. That's not all. On top of that, workers keep coming to report that you deliberately withheld their wages, causing two workers in your shop to starve to death because their families ran out of rice. Is this true or not?"
Master Chen had accumulated some wealth and owned a silk and cloth shop and a money exchange in town. It was also said that he had business in the provincial capital. He was a true hidden tycoon. As soon as he heard that the county magistrate wanted him to contribute money, he immediately began to plead poverty.
After the magistrate said this, the crowd fell silent, and Master Chen dared not howl anymore.
"You withheld the workers' wages, and the county didn't hold it against you. But now, when the county is suffering from a disaster, what's wrong with you? You can't even afford some rice? In that case, why don't we just let all these disaster victims come to your home?"
When Master Chen looked up at the dense crowd outside, his head began to throb. He then said, "Sir, how much silver would be appropriate? There are so many merchants here; surely I can't be the only one paying?"
A man's voice came from the crowd: "Sir, I'm afraid this is inappropriate. We all know that Master Chen has not paid taxes for many years. We are at least conscientious taxpayers. What you are doing is probably unfair."
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