Madmen don't keep diaries

Chapter 459 458 Fish and Rice Tax

This topic made the boss's expression somewhat unnatural.

He chuckled twice and replied, "Make a fuss as it may, but life still goes on, doesn't it? If we were all stuck at the docks all day, how would we make any money?"

Feng Xiuhu frowned: "As soon as I heard your excuse, I knew you weren't sincere. Look at the people from Mingshui County on the other side; they not only surround that place all day long, but they've even built a stockade there!"

The shopkeeper glanced around and lowered his voice: "Mingshui County lives off the water. It's such a tiny place, yet they dedicate all their incense offerings to Jiang Liu Gong. Who can compare to their sincerity? No wonder they cause the most trouble!"

Feng Xiuhu was taken aback. The boss's attitude made him realize something, so he quickly asked, "From what you're saying, the people in Jindi City aren't deliberately causing trouble, or at least not sincerely?"

The shopkeeper was almost confused and replied with an awkward laugh, "Whether it was sincere or not, it still caused a scene... If it hadn't caused a scene, the foreigners would have started setting up the embankments from the north bank long ago."

Right!

Feng Xiuhu's eyes lit up as he suddenly realized what was going on.

Since the river festival is held on the south bank, why not start building the bridge from the north bank first?
This way, neither side will be affected.

Putting aside the question of whether the believers in Jindi City were sincere or not, the real issue is—why did the mute Jin insist on going to the south bank to fight to the death with the group that was causing the most trouble?
Shouldn't the optimal solution right now be to start with the north bank?

Before I could figure out the problem, the noodle stall owner's expression changed.

He hurriedly wiped his hands, came out from behind the stall, and frantically reached for his money bag.

Shunzi nudged Feng Xiuhu with his elbow, signaling him to look back.

Feng Xiuhu looked back and saw a group of people walking over with their feet swaying. Before they even got close, the noodle stall owner had already put on a smile and went up to greet them.

Before he could speak, the noodle stall owner reached out and handed over a handful of pre-counted copper beads: "Uncle Wa, please count them."

The man called "Wa Ye" was actually just a young man with a thin layer of bluish down on his lips and wearing a cap with ear flaps.

Wa Ye glanced sideways at the copper beads in the shopkeeper's hand and sneered, "No need to order."

He suddenly swung his arm and struck the boss's hand, instantly scattering copper beads all over the street with a clattering sound.

Passersby scrambled to grab the loot, and the shop owner panicked, quickly crawling to the ground to pick it up.

One of Wa's henchmen stepped forward and kicked the boss in the shoulder, sending him tumbling over.

The boss kept saying "Ouch!" while his subordinate yelled, "Don't play dumb, this number isn't enough!"

The boss sat on the ground, his clothes and hands were dirty, and even the white towel he was wiping his sweat around his neck was covered in dust.

He looked up at the group with pleading eyes: "How could it not be enough? Didn't we agree that as long as we cause trouble at the docks, this month's fish and rice tax would be halved..."

Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by Master Wa.

Wa Ye bent down and grabbed the boss's hair, sneering, "Old Zheng, who the hell are you trying to fool? I saw you yesterday. You went to the docks, only wandered around for a bit, and slipped away without even a howl. Your wife's moans in bed are louder than yours!"

"How did you know?"

An untimely voice interrupted.

Grandpa Wa looked up and saw three people sitting on the low table at the stall, one of whom was looking at him with a curious gaze.

Seeing him look over, the man added, "You were eavesdropping?"

Wa Ye spat in Old Zheng's face, stared at Feng Xiuhu and asked, "Whose crotch wasn't tucked in properly and you leaked out? Did I tell you to speak up before you opened your mouth?" Shunzi turned around and looked at him with an unfriendly expression.

Fang Youliu was afraid that Shunzi would pull out his gun and make the situation more serious, so he held Shunzi's hand down first and shook his head slightly at him.

Shunzi pushed his hand away: "No need."

After saying that, he got up and walked away.

When Shunzi was sitting, Wa Ye and the others didn't feel much of a sense of unease, only that he was a rather burly man. But now that Shunzi has stood up and is walking closer, that suffocating sense of oppression is immediately overwhelming.

Instinctively, Wa Ye and his men retreated, but refused to back down, shouting, "Hey, hey, what's wrong? You want to fight? You'd better think it over, there are quite a few of us here!"

Seeing that a fight was about to break out, Feng Xiuhu ignored it and waved to Old Zheng: "Don't sit there, come back downstairs."

Old Zheng didn't dare to refuse. He picked up the two remaining copper beads at his feet and walked back without saying a word.

He wiped away the tears that had welled up in the corners of his eyes and sniffed.

Feng Xiuhu warned, "Don't drop your snot into the pot."

Old Zheng tried to force a smile, but failed, and all his bitterness turned into a long sigh.

The food had just been put into the pot when screams erupted from the middle of the street.

Shunzi was like a tiger among sheep, his two big hands like palm-leaf fans, sweeping over two people with one sweep and sending a bunch flying with another.

He even had the leisure to worry about the person who pulled out the knife—not because he was afraid of getting hurt, but because he was worried about his clothes being torn.

The onlookers on the street had never seen anything like it before. They all exclaimed and cheered.

My gaze sometimes rose—that one had been flung onto the roof; sometimes fell—that one's bladder had been punctured.

Before the noodles were even cooked, Shunzi returned with Wa Ye and made him sit down on the empty side of the low table.

Wa Ye had a split eye, a broken nose, and lost several teeth, but his imposing presence remained.

He said, "If you're so capable, don't leave. I'm the tax collector of Jiangliu Temple, and the monk will surely seek justice for me."

Snapped!
Shunzi slapped him to the ground: "You think you have the right to talk about justice?"

Grandpa Wa covered his face and got up: "Why can't we mention it? Paying taxes to the temple is a matter of course, I don't believe you haven't paid them!"

Feng Xiuhu and Shunzi exchanged a glance, but neither dared to speak.

Wa Ye wanted to sneer again, but he accidentally aggravated his wound, and hissed in pain: "Besides, how am I being unfair? I'm a man of my word! I said that those who go to the docks to shout would have their taxes halved this month. Go ask the other vendors on this street if I didn't give them a discount?"

At this moment, Old Zheng shakily brought out the noodles, put down the bowl, and knelt down directly before Master Wa, bowing repeatedly with his hands: "Master Wa, I did something wrong. Please have mercy and give me a few more days. I will make up for the tax payment later."

Wa Ye was about to speak when he suddenly remembered that there were three people he couldn't afford to offend sitting next to him, so he shut his mouth again.

Feng Xiuhu's thoughts had already jumped to another matter, and he asked curiously, "So, the people who went to the docks to cause trouble were all forced to go by you?"

Wa raised his voice: "What do you mean by 'forced'? I reduced their taxes, that's called mutual consent!"

Whether he was willing or not, that wasn't what Feng Xiuhu wanted to know: "I can understand the trouble caused by the bald turtles on the south bank, but what are you after? The foreigners are building a bridge on the north bank, and it doesn't interfere with the river's flow."

(End of this chapter)