Spoiled and mad critic of powerful ministers

The man ignored Shen Huaide and looked past the crowd, his gaze landing precisely on Shen Qiongju, who was standing under the eaves.

At this moment, Shen Qiongju was dressed in coarse cloth, and her face was still covered with a little tobacco ash, but she could not hide the composure that came from her very bones.

The man stepped into the courtyard and casually tossed a gold ingot, which landed precisely on the nearby wine table.

With a muffled "thud," the golden light was somewhat dazzling in the firelight.

"How much of the wine you ordered has been brewed yet? I'll take the finished one with me."

He walked up to the jar of freshly filled "first-pressed liquor," dipped his finger in it, and put it in his mouth.

A moment later, he took off his hood, revealing a resolute and cold face. A faint scar on his left eyebrow bone added to his menacing aura.

"That's intense."

He looked at Shen Qiongju with eyes as sharp as a hawk's, "I never expected that this small Wuxian County could produce such strong liquor."

Shen Qiongju's heart skipped a beat; she didn't recognize this person.

However, she recognized the pattern of the unassuming black waist tag on him from Pei Zhichao's past life. It indicated he was a soldier, and of extremely high rank.

Shen Qiongju suppressed the turmoil in her heart, walked forward calmly, and performed a respectful curtsy.

"You flatter me, esteemed guest. Since you enjoy it, I'll offer this jar of wine for you to try."

"deliver?"

The man raised an eyebrow, a half-smile on his face. "Manager Shen, you've got quite the generosity. However, I don't like owing favors."

He pointed to the gold ingot, "Deposit. I'm the customer who placed the order before. In addition to the 300 catties three days later, I'll add another 500 catties."

Shen Huaide gasped.

Eight hundred jin?

Even if we emptied the distillery, we might not be able to supply enough!

"What? You can't do it?" The man's voice turned cold.

"It's possible."

Shen Qiongju spoke before Shen Huaide could, her voice clear and crisp, "Don't even mention eight hundred jin, the Shen family can conjure up eight thousand jin for you."

"We currently have 150 catties of the first batch of roasted goods in stock. Would you like to take them away now?"

The man gave her a deep look, a playful smile curving his lips. "Please have the owner direct someone to move it out and load it into our car parked outside."

At that moment, all the workers, men and women alike, went to the back wine cellar to move the goods, and they finished in less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

The man paid half the remaining balance, turned to leave, but suddenly stopped and, with his back to Shen Qiongju, said, "Are you Pei Zhichao's wife?"

The man paused for a moment, then said, "It's somewhat different from what he said."

Shen Qiongju's palm tightened.

After saying that, he strode out of the courtyard gate and disappeared into the snowy night.

Only when the sound of the carriage faded into the distance did the people in the courtyard dare to breathe loudly.

"Good heavens...who is this guy? His aura is even more intimidating than the county magistrate!" Shen Huaide patted his chest, his eyes practically popping out of their sockets as he stared at the gold ingot on the table.

Shen Qiongju stared at the gold ingot with a deep, unfathomable look in her eyes.

The North is beginning to change.

.

In the makeshift distillery in Shenjia Village, the heat and the sour aroma of the fermented grains mingled together, making one's cheeks burn.

Because the Northern Army was pressing hard, they added another 500 jars of wine, which was far from enough for the Shen family's original brewery. Shen Qiongju had to temporarily set up several large sheds in an open space in the village and rent new brewing equipment to work day and night.

"Wait a minute, reinforce that beam over there again!"

Shen Qiongju was standing next to a newly built stove, directing several village women to carry a huge earthenware wine vat onto it.

The shed was a temporary and very simple structure, with a few freshly cut pine logs serving as beams and covered with a thick layer of thatch.

Just as the wine vat was lifted onto the stove by everyone working together, the ground beneath their feet seemed to sink slightly.

The main beam, which was used to support the weight, made a teeth-grinding creaking sound.

"Watch out!" Shen Qiongju's heart skipped a beat, and she subconsciously looked up.

The pine beam, as thick as a bowl, slowly slipped out of the mortise and tenon joint, carrying with it the thatch and snow, and crashed straight down on her head!

The surrounding village women screamed in terror and scattered in all directions.

Shen Qiongju's pupils contracted sharply, and she dodged to the other side, only to be bumped by another person. She was about to fall against the pine beam when...

At the critical moment, a figure in cyan rushed over like an arrow released from a bow.

Shen Qiongju felt a tightness around her waist, and an irresistible force pulled her backward.

She stumbled into a not-so-broad embrace, but one that smelled of herbs.

"Thump—"

The wooden beam, laden with ice, snow, and thatch, crashed heavily onto the spot where she had just stood, sending pebbles flying.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye.

Shen Qiongju's back was pressed tightly against a warm chest, and the person's arm was still wrapped around her waist. The scalding heat penetrated through several layers of thin winter clothes, making her skin tremble.

The sound of his heartbeat, steady and powerful, pounded against her vest through the fabric.

one more time.

It wasn't hers, it belonged to him.

It belongs to Pei Zhihui.

She froze, as if the blood in her body had frozen at that moment.

She was all too familiar with this embrace.

In her past life, it was this same embrace that pulled her from the water prison at the very last moment of her life.

"Sister-in-law."

That familiar, slightly hoarse voice came from above.

Pei Zhihui loosened his grip, took a step back, and created some distance.

His face was paler than usual, his thin lips were tightly pressed together, and his long eyelashes drooped down, concealing the fleeting fear in his eyes that even he himself did not notice.

In the instant he rushed over, he didn't have time to think at all.

It's just a bodily instinct.

The moment her soft body crashed into my arms, a strange sensation coursed through my arms and throughout my entire body.

When he bullied her in his dream before, it seemed... it was the same kind of touch.

"Thank you, Uncle." Shen Qiongju quickly came to her senses. She turned around, curtsied, and her face had returned to its usual gentle and obedient state, as if the terrifying moment and the intimate contact that followed had never happened.

Pei Zhihui's gaze fell on her ears, which were red from the cold, and his Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly.

He looked away, his voice regaining its cool tone: "My aunt sent me to find you."

"Something happened at the village's farm."

Shen Qiongju exchanged a few words with Shen Huaide, and then got into the carriage with Pei Zhihui.

.

On the way to the farm, there was only one mule cart, barely big enough for two people.

The carriage was cramped, and Pei Zhihui and Shen Qiongju sat facing each other.

The refreshing herbal scent emanating from him, mixed with a faint fragrance of ink, seeped into Shen Qiongju's very being.

She lowered her eyes, placed her hands folded on her knees, and leaned as close to the car wall as possible.

Pei Zhihui briefly recounted the whole story.

"The manager of the Shenjia Village estate is surnamed Zhao. He is an old man who has been with my grandfather since his early years. Yesterday, he sent someone to report that the wheat seedlings of the tenant Zhang Shi's family had been stolen. He led people to catch the thief and beat him half to death."

"The one who was beaten was a scoundrel from a neighboring village. But Zhang Shi's thirteen-year-old son went to the county government office to beat the drum and appeal for justice. He wasn't accusing the wheat thief, but rather the steward, Zhao."

"They accused him of disregarding human life and said that he had been lending money at exorbitant interest rates in the village for years, forcing many families to sell their children."

Pei Zhihui's voice was calm, as if he were talking about a case that had nothing to do with him.

Shen Qiongju felt a chill run down her spine upon hearing this.