Spoiled and mad critic of powerful ministers

With war looming on the northern border and the harsh winter cold, countless soldiers have suffered frostbite. Furthermore, the indiscriminate nature of swords and blades makes wounds highly susceptible to infection and suppuration.

This strong liquor can both cleanse wounds and prevent infection, and a few sips can also ward off the cold and boost courage.

The high-concentration spirits should have been reported by the military doctor and listed as military supplies by now.

Shen Qiongju calculated the time and vaguely remembered that the war started in early spring of next year, before the wheat had even fully ripened.

A little over a month is enough time for her to produce another batch.

In his previous life, Wen Xiujie made a fortune from this wine and earned himself the reputation of a "righteous businessman".

Why shouldn't he be the one to be a righteous merchant in this lifetime?

"Manager," Shen Qiongju suddenly spoke, her voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable decisiveness, "this order was well taken."

Manager Wang was taken aback.

"Not only do we have to accept it, but we have to do it even better." Shen Qiongju turned around, her gaze fixed intently on the dusty wine jars on the shelf.

"From now on, this wine will be supplied to that doctor. He'll be back. Go and tell the distillery to focus all their efforts on brewing strong liquor, the higher the alcohol content, the better. Don't worry about the taste, as long as it's strong enough!"

"Ah? Miss, this..." Manager Wang was dumbfounded. "Who would drink this strong liquor besides that strange doctor? Our Shen family's most famous liquor is Jingbianchun."

"People will be scrambling to drink it later." Shen Qiongju didn't explain, but just gently stroked the rough edge of the counter.

"Also," Shen Qiongju said, as if remembering something, glancing at the bustling street outside the door, "go and find out how the gourd harvest is going in Dazao Village this year."

"A gourd?" Shopkeeper Wang felt his brain was completely overwhelmed.

"Yes, gourds. And bamboo, the thick, old nan bamboo." Shen Qiongju narrowed her eyes, the smug face of Wen Xiujie from her previous life flashing through her mind.

Although that beast is of low character, he is indeed skilled at accumulating wealth.

In military campaigns, fragile containers are the most taboo items. Wen Xiujie used to store wine in lightweight and durable dried gourds and bamboo tubes, and even stamped the words "Save the Journey" on them. Although the price he sold the wine to the army was not high, the quantity was too large.

Since he's only ever been a centurion, she'll gladly accept this idea to make money.

"Dazao Village isn't far from here. The soil there is poor, so you can't grow crops. Every household grows gourds to sell to the children to make ladles for them to play with. They're very cheap," Manager Wang answered honestly, even though he didn't understand.

"Take them all," Shen Qiongju said calmly. "Take as many as you can. Also, find a few skilled craftsmen to cut the bamboo into one-foot-long tubes, polish them smooth, and make them into wine pots. Remember, do this secretly, don't let anyone find out."

Manager Wang didn't understand; his eyebrows were furrowed. He had been keeping a clear eye on how much money was in Shen's tavern's accounts for over a month.

Business is clearly not going well, yet the daughter who married out of the family still has to buy so many little toys for children. This won't do; he has to talk to Brother Huai De about it.

"What? Is there a problem?" Shen Qiongju raised an eyebrow.

"No, no problem!" Manager Wang quickly waved his hand, "I'll take care of it right away!"

Shen Qiongju nodded, took out a bag of silver from her sleeve and slapped it on the counter: "This is the deposit. If it's not enough, go to the accounting office to get more. Remember, I need to be quick."

That was the bag of cash Pei Junlan had given her, the money she had used to pay for the old man's funeral.

After finishing her instructions with Manager Wang, Shen Qiongju prepared to go to Shenjia Village again.

This morning, my uncle Huai De said that there was another problem at the Shenjia Village brewery, so he rushed over to check what was going on.

Because he had to go to Shenjia Village almost every day, it seemed difficult to operate the distillery.

My father's hand hasn't fully recovered yet, and he keeps complaining of finger pain. So he's the only one who can oversee the brewing process every day.

"Let's go to Shenjia Village," she instructed Shen Song as she boarded the mule cart.

Shenjia Village is located 20 miles outside the city. It is the ancestral home of the Shen family and the foundation of the Shen family's winery.

Once the mule cart left the city, the road became bumpy. Shen Qiongju sat in the cart, her thoughts racing as the cart swayed.

This batch of wine was her bargaining chip for turning her life around, but dealing with the military required a middleman; otherwise, she would only suffer losses, and might even lose the recipe.

Shen Qiongju closed her eyes to rest for a while, then suddenly remembered someone—Zhao Baihu.

He was the centurion who helped Zhiyan find a doctor for Pei Shoulian at the labor camp. He used to visit the mansion often and treated Pei Zhihui and Pei Zhiyan like younger brothers.

This person is not only close to the Pei family, but also of impeccable character. More importantly, Zhao Qiyan is the youngest son of the Marquis of Yan, who came to the border specifically for training. Surely no one would be foolish enough to interfere with the business he oversees.

I heard Pei Zhichao say that Zhao Qiyan was a troublemaker who was difficult to manage at first. No one wanted this hot potato, so he had no choice but to take him into his own unit. The two of them had several contests before the boy finally became completely convinced of his abilities.

If Pei Zhichao's widow, or Pei Zhihui's younger brother, were to directly intervene, the deal would be secured.

Thinking of this, Shen Qiongju closed her eyes, a determined smile curving her lips.

She couldn't help but sigh in her heart: "Hengniang, Hengniang, you should still be digging salt wells at Qinghai Lake in Xining Prefecture, and you must have earned your first pot of gold by now, while I have started my own business."

Although you don't know me in this life, I believe that we will meet at the summit in the near future.

Xining, the capital of Qinghai Province, is located on the shore of Qinghai Lake.

The cold wind, carrying the harsh smell of the saline-alkali land, swept across the endless salt fields.

Beside several newly dug salt wells, dozens of workers were chanting as they used a winch to hoist wooden buckets filled with brine up from the bottom of the wells.

Under the makeshift thatched shed by the well, Du Hengniang squatted on the ground, with a cowhide map covered in markings spread out in front of her.

With her left hand on the blueprint and her right hand holding a charcoal pencil, she was rapidly calculating today's brine concentration and estimated salt yield.

"The brine content of the East Third Well is 70%, and that of the West Fifth Well is 50%... If this pace continues, we can produce 800 catties of coarse salt by the end of the month, which will yield about 500 catties of fine salt after refining."

She muttered to herself, writing numbers in the corner of the map with charcoal: "Transported to Lanzhou Prefecture, the market price is sixty wen per jin, after deducting transportation costs, taxes, labor..."

Just as I was calculating the crucial point, I suddenly felt an itch on the tip of my nose.

"Achoo!"

A loud sneeze erupted, and the charcoal pencil in her hand slid out with a "snap," drawing a long black line across the leather map, right through the line of numbers she had just calculated.

Du Hengniang froze, staring at the abrupt black line for two seconds.

"Who's talking about me?" she muttered, rubbing her nose. She chuckled to herself, "Are they really possessed? In this desolate wilderness?"

Even so, she still subconsciously looked up and gazed in the northeast direction.

That was the capital city, a place she had left two whole years ago.

Two years ago, she opened her eyes to find herself as an insignificant illegitimate daughter of the Du family in the Great Sheng Dynasty, casually betrothed by her stepmother to a tyrannical merchant as his second wife.

As a modern woman living in the new China after its founding, how could she endure such feudal abuse? So she climbed over the wall and escaped the mansion to find her own new world.