Spoiled and mad critic of powerful ministers

As darkness fell completely, the night sky over Wuxian was dotted with a few sparse, cold stars.

Normally, at this hour, the streets would be quiet except for the sound of the night watchman's clapper. But tonight, the lanterns at the entrance of Qionghua Pavilion illuminate half the street as bright as day.

The number of people queuing at the entrance has not decreased, but rather increased.

Those yamen runners who had to work during the day and vendors who were packing up their stalls, upon hearing about the daytime commotion and the rumors of "Madam Hu personally overseeing things" and "the county magistrate sending gifts," were all eager to squeeze in, their hearts pounding like cats scratching at their chests, clutching their copper coins.

"Don't push! Don't push! Line up at the back!"

Shen Song's voice was hoarse from shouting, and he waved the number plate in his hand. Sweat streamed down his face and was chilled by the cold wind, but his heart was burning with passion.

The lobby was bustling with noise.

The sounds of drinking games, the clinking of dice against porcelain bowls, the clattering of wine glasses, and the occasional bursts of laughter combined to create a wave of heat that almost lifted the roof off.

The two long bar counters were packed with people.

The bartender's hands were about to break from shaking the bars, and they were already out of ice, so they had to send someone to buy ice from someone who had it.

Although Solan no longer dances, she occasionally peeks out from the second-floor railing, or has her maid bring down a pot of her specially made "Western Regions Style" liquor, which can elicit howls of wolves downstairs, and people spend money on the liquor without restraint.

It wasn't until 3:45 PM that the last group of guests were reluctantly seen off.

"Dear guests, please come early tomorrow! We'll have new wines on the shelves tomorrow!" Manager Cui said with a smile, while gesturing for the shop assistant to put up the door panels.

The heavy wooden door creaked shut, shutting out the cold wind from outside.

The lobby fell silent instantly.

All the waiters, cooks, and musicians were slumped in their chairs, too exhausted to straighten up, but their eyes were shining brightly.

That was the light of hope.

Shen Qiongju came down from the third floor, carrying a small cloth bag in her hand, which contained the reward money for everyone today.

"Great success for our opening today, thanks to everyone's support."

Without wasting any words, she directly distributed the copper coins, saying, "I won't say more. Everyone, take an extra hundred coins as a reward. Go back and get a good night's sleep. We still have to work tomorrow."

The crowd cheered, took the money, and dispersed with profuse thanks.

Shen's old house.

The doors and windows of the main hall were tightly closed, and two extremely bright oil lamps were lit on the table.

With trembling hands, Shen Huaide's uncle untied the heavy cloth bag.

"Whoosh—" A crisp, mesmerizing sound.

Countless copper coins and silver fragments were poured onto the mahogany round table, piling up into a small mountain. Under the lamplight, the pile of money shone with a captivating luster, reflecting a rosy glow on the faces of everyone present.

Shen Huaifeng sat in his wheelchair, watching the scene before him, feeling proud of his daughter.

Ever since the Shen family's tavern was vandalized and his finger was crippled, the Shen family has been spending money non-stop, like a bottomless pit.

Although he didn't say it, every night when he saw his daughter worrying about the tavern and money, selling her jewelry to raise funds, his heart felt like it was being torn apart.

"These... these are all from today?" Shen Huaifeng's voice was hoarse, filled with disbelief.

Shen Huaide had already picked up the abacus, his fingers flying across the keys, clicking and clattering.

"Brother, don't rush, let me calculate... The income from drinks is eighty-two taels, the main dishes and snacks are twenty-five taels, and the table fee for those cards is also twelve taels."

Shen Huaide's hands trembled more and more as he calculated, and large beads of sweat dripped down his face. "After deducting our costs and labor, the net profit is... sixty-eight taels."

Finally, Shen Huaide slapped his thigh hard and almost jumped up.

"Net profit... sixty-eight taels!"

"How much?!" Shen Huaifeng almost fell over.

"Sixty-eight!" Shen Huaide slammed the abacus on the table, his face flushed with excitement. "Brother! When our tavern was at its peak, we only earned about twenty taels a month! This one day... this one day is equivalent to more than two months' worth!"

The room was deathly silent, followed by suppressed gasps.

Shen Qiongju sat in the lamplight, her expression much calmer. She picked up her teacup, took a sip, and moistened her dry throat.

This was within her expectations.

Jingbian Spring is the brand name, which already inflates the price. In addition, she has packaged the tavern as a "money pit". Those so-called special cocktails have a lower cost but can be sold for hundreds of coins.

"This is brand premium, a business logic that you people here haven't figured out yet."

Recalling the set of business rhetoric that Du Hengniang used in her previous life, she wondered where she learned it from. She didn't understand it back then, but in this life, after she did it herself, she immediately understood.

"This is just the beginning."

Shen Qiongju put down her teacup, her voice clear and firm, "After winning the drinking contest in a few days and securing a long-term contract with the county government, that amount will double."

Shen Huaifeng looked at his daughter's profile, which appeared particularly resolute under the light, and his eyes suddenly reddened.

That little daughter who used to hide behind him and act spoiled, that girl who would cry her heart out if she fell down as a child, has now become the pillar of the family.

What merit does Shen Huaifeng possess to have such a wonderful daughter?

"Qiongju..." Shen Huaifeng reached out, wanting to pat his daughter's head, or help gather the silver on the table.

Just as his fingertips touched the cold silver ingot.

Unexpected changes occurred suddenly.

"hiss--!"

A suppressed cry of pain escaped Shen Huaifeng's lips without warning.

As if electrocuted, Shen Huaifeng abruptly pulled back his right hand, curling up in his wheelchair, his left hand gripping his right wrist so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

The face, which had been flushed with excitement, instantly lost all color and turned ashen white.

Cold sweat poured down his back, soaking it instantly.

"father!"

The teacup in Shen Qiongju's hand crashed to the ground with a "bang," shattering into pieces.

She rushed to her father, knelt on the ground, and asked, "Dad! What's wrong? Where does it hurt?"

Shen Huaide was also stunned, dropping the account book in his hand to the ground. "Big brother! Big brother, don't scare me!"

Shen Huaifeng was in so much pain that his whole body convulsed, and his teeth were clenched so tightly they were making a grinding sound.

He stared intently at his right hand.

That hand, originally long and strong, could have brewed the best wine in Wuxian County.

But now, his index finger is gone, leaving an ugly scar, and the pain of being cut off follows him like a shadow.

Although the wounds had long since healed and the swelling had subsided, in his eyes at this moment, his five fingers seemed to be being hammered by an invisible iron hammer, and red-hot bamboo skewers were being driven deep into his fingernails.

"It hurts...my finger..."

Shen Huaifeng's eyes were unfocused, and his pupils contracted sharply, clearly indicating that he was trapped in some kind of extreme fear and hallucination.

"Don't cut it, don't..."

He waved his arms wildly, as if trying to push away some unseen machete.

These words pierced Shen Qiongju's heart.