Spoiled and mad critic of powerful ministers

Scarface's tone was flat, but his eyes suddenly sharpened, like the tip of a knife, slowly scraping across everyone present.

"Remember these three rules."

"First, you should not ask about the purpose of this batch of wine, and you never need to know."

"Secondly, this deal will remain a closely guarded secret. If even a single word leaks out..."

He paused, looked around, and everyone whose gaze swept over him felt a chill run down their spine.

"Third, this wine may only be sold to merchants of my Great Sheng Dynasty from now on. If you dare to sell it to any barbarians or foreigners outside the northern border, don't blame us for being ruthless."

He forced a smile, revealing his stark white teeth.

"Otherwise, kill without mercy."

The last four words, like four icy hammers, struck heavily on everyone's hearts.

Shen Huaide's face turned pale instantly, his legs went weak, and he almost couldn't stand up.

Several timid workers were trembling with fear. This was no transaction; it was a warning from the King of Hell!

Upon hearing these threatening words, Shen Qiongju was somewhat taken aback and was about to say something polite to agree.

A slender figure walked slowly and steadily past her.

It was Pei Zhihui.

"We have taken your words to heart."

Pei Zhihui spoke, his voice calm and indifferent, as if discussing the weather, "Those who understand business understand the rules. The Shen family has been in business for generations, so they understand this principle. You can rest assured."

Scarface squinted, scrutinizing the sickly scholar who had suddenly appeared before him.

"Okay." After a long while, Scarface finally uttered a single word.

He stepped forward, bypassed Pei Zhihui, and his gaze fell on Shen Qiongju before returning to Pei Zhihui's face.

"You have the guts of your brother," he suddenly said, making no apparent reason.

"Commander Pei was upright and incorruptible, what a pity. I never expected that his frail younger brother would be such a character."

Having said that, he said no more, gave Pei Zhihui a deep look, turned around and waved his hand: "Let's go!"

A group of men in black arrived quickly and left just as fast, disappearing into the deep night in an instant, as if they had never existed.

The sound of horses' hooves faded into the distance, and the distillery returned to deathly silence.

Shen Qiongju's heart was in turmoil. Just a moment ago, the back of the man who stood in front of her overlapped for a fleeting instant with the image of her deceased husband in her memory, who always protected her and sheltered her from the wind and rain.

But he is not Pei Zhichao, he is Pei Zhihui.

"Is this person also from the Zhenbei Army Camp?" Shen Qiongju asked.

Pei Zhihui looked at the boundless darkness outside the door and nodded, saying, "It is Lu Jing, the commander of the Right Army of the Zhenbei Army."

.

As dawn broke, Pei Zhihui led Shen Huaide and Shen Song to recheck the accounts.

Inside the distillery, the deathly silence was shattered by a suppressed cheer.

"We've struck it rich! Qiongju, we've struck it rich!" Shen Huaide rushed to the table, picked up the heavy money bag with both hands, and grinned foolishly.

The bag was open, and the gleaming gold ingots shone with a dazzling light under the dim lamplight.

"Even after accounting for such high costs, we're still making a pure profit!"

The money invested in the previous distillation experiments wasn't wasted; in fact, it was enough for the Shen family's tavern to be renovated and expanded.

Shen Song's eyes widened in disbelief; they had never seen so much silver in their lives.

Only Shen Qiongju stood still, motionless.

She didn't look at the bag of silver; she only felt that the transaction with the army was too risky. This money wasn't a reward, but a branding iron to seal her mouth.

In the future, their wine will either be exclusively supplied to the military, or all sales will have to be traced back to their origin. If it were to flow into foreign lands, it would pose a huge hidden danger.

Her heart sank; she could never share this joy.

Pei Zhihui's gaze slowly moved, past the fools cheering for the money, and precisely fixed on Shen Qiongju.

She stood there, her slender figure exuding a quietude that stood out starkly against the surrounding jubilation.

Pei Zhihui's eyes subtly revealed scrutiny and inquiry; her personality had changed so much that she was now so cautious.

Amidst this somber atmosphere filled with conflicting emotions, the sound of rapid hoofbeats approached from afar, once again shattering the tranquility of the distillery.

A travel-worn messenger jumped off his horse, rushed into the wine shop, and shouted breathlessly.

"An urgent letter from Liangzhou Prefecture, addressed to Scholar Pei!"

The messenger handed over a letter sealed with wax.

Pei Zhihui stepped forward and took the letter. There was no signature on the envelope, only a strange smell that he recognized, mixed with the scent of aged ink.

It is a letter from my beloved teacher.

He unwrapped the sealing wax and took out the letter.

Shen Qiongju wasn't far away and glanced over subconsciously. One glance was enough to freeze her in shock.

On that letter, the brushstrokes were bold and unrestrained, like dragons soaring through the air, the characters displaying a wildness she had never seen before.

But the content above made her suppress a laugh.

"To Pei Zhihui, you dissolute son: I have heard that after finishing your family affairs, you are lingering in the countryside, seemingly forgetting all your former ambitions? Have your past aspirations already been wasted?"

Shen Qiongju clicked her tongue inwardly; this was far too direct.

She couldn't help but steal another glance.

"Your talent is like a bird that flies away from Guilin, never to return; your learning is like water flowing eastward, spilled water cannot be gathered up again! If you do not return to the capital, I will personally go to Wuxian to question your learning with a ruler and to correct your heart with family rules!"

"Return immediately! Don't say you weren't warned!"

With just a few words, yet with ornate language and perfect parallelism, he delivered a powerful and skillful critique.

Shen Qiongju secretly marveled at the old gentleman's literary talent.

I wonder how Pei Zhihui, with his aloof and proud nature, would react to being so openly and harshly insulted.

She quietly raised her eyes to look at Pei Zhihui, but there was no awkwardness as she had expected.

The boy simply read the letter quietly, his handsome but pale face showing no emotion. He slowly folded the letter again and put it back in the envelope.

It was as if that eloquent and scathing letter had nothing to do with him.

After he finished doing all this, he raised his head, looked towards the distant city, and spoke softly.

"I'm setting off back to the prefectural city."

.

The carriage sped along the road back to the prefectural city.

Pei Zhihui opened the bundle his sister-in-law had handed him before he left.

The first thing you see are two small wine jars sealed tightly with oil paper, with the words "Twenty Years of Jingbian Spring" written on the red packaging. This is the real nectar that wine connoisseurs talk about.

His teacher was a seasoned connoisseur of fine wine.

What remained were some dry food and a water bottle, and in the corner was a bag of silver, about twenty taels.

Pei Zhihui's fingers touched the rough cloth of the bag and the sharp edges of the silver ingots inside. His fingertips curled almost imperceptibly, then slowly closed, gripping the bag of silver tightly.

The cold edge of the silver ingot pressed against my palm, bringing a clear yet slightly painful sensation.

He then gradually loosened his grip and carefully placed the money bag back in its original place, alongside the two jars of wine and the dry rations.

Outside the carriage, the wind howled, and the journey was still long.

He leaned back against the car wall, his eyelids slightly lowered, concealing all his turbulent thoughts in a deep silence.

Only a corner of the bundle seemed to retain a faint scent, different from the wood and dust of the carriage, quietly lingering in the air.