Spoiled and mad critic of powerful ministers

Chunxing looked surprised and could only kowtow in gratitude with tears streaming down her face.

After dealing with Chunxing, Shen Qiongju did not sit back down.

She stood in the center of the ancestral hall, her gaze slowly sweeping over every face present.

On those faces, there was reverence, gratitude, and also fear for the future.

The destruction of the distillery could not be kept secret. Everyone knew that the owner had suffered a misfortune, and they were all worried that these good days were coming to an end.

"I know everyone is worried about whether the distillery can stay open."

Shen Qiongju's voice was clear and powerful, "I'm putting this out there today: as long as I, Shen Qiongju, have a breath left, Shen Family Winery will not fall! The Qionghua Pavilion's reputation will not be ruined!"

"Not only that, I want to make it bigger and better!"

She took out two hundred-dollar silver notes from her sleeve.

"Third Uncle." Shen Qiongju handed over the silver note.

Third Uncle's hand trembled, almost dropping it: "Qiongju, this... what is this?"

"This money was donated to the clan this year to help the poor and needy," Shen Qiongju said loudly. "This money is enough to build two large tiled houses next to the ancestral hall, hire a teacher, and open a school!"

"A school?!"

It was like a drop of water falling into a hot oil pan; the crowd instantly erupted in chaos.

In this era, education was an extremely expensive and luxurious thing. Children in the village were lucky if they could even recognize their own names; how could they dare to dream of going to school?

"All children in Shenjia Village, regardless of gender, who reach the required age can attend school for free!"

Shen Qiongju continued speaking, each sentence striking the hearts of the crowd like a heavy hammer blow.

"We don't aspire to be top scholars or high-ranking officials, but at least we need to be literate and able to do basic accounting!"

"Those who study well will no longer need to toil in the fields for a living; they can go directly to the winery as managers! Or they can go to the Qionghua Pavilion in the city as accountants or shopkeepers!"

"I, Shen Qiongju, am giving you this opportunity so that your children can hold their heads high from now on!"

After a brief silence.

Uncle San held the silver notes in his hand, tears streaming down his face.

"Qiongju...you've...you've opened a third eye for our Shenjia Village!"

Immediately afterwards, people knelt down in droves.

Those men who usually toil in the fields are now truly grateful.

Giving money is for emergencies. Giving education is for changing one's destiny!

This is going to cut off the root of their poverty that has lasted for generations!

"Thank you so much, boss!"

"Long live the boss!"

The deafening shouts nearly lifted the roof off the ancestral hall.

Amidst the swirling snow and in the dilapidated ancestral hall, Shen Qiongju used one hundred taels of silver to win the unwavering loyalty of generations of people in Shenjia Village.

From then on, Shenjia Village became an impenetrable fortress.

Pei Zhihui sat in his chair, quietly watching the scene unfold. He looked at the woman standing in the center of the crowd, her figure slender yet seemingly radiant.

At that moment, the gloom in his eyes dissipated, replaced by an almost fanatical obsession.

This is my sister-in-law—skilled, decisive, and possessing a heartwarming charm.

.

Five days later, at the Wuxian Wharf.

The snowstorm had just stopped, and the river was shrouded in mist.

A large ship bearing the name "Zhao" was quietly moored on the shore.

The ship was enormous and had a very deep draft, clearly indicating that it was fully loaded with cargo.

Shen Huaifeng, along with Shen Song, directed the crew to load the last batch of supplies onto the ship.

"Be careful! Those jars contain yeast starter, don't bump or knock them over!" Shen Huaifeng's voice was loud and clear. Although he had been exhausted these past few days, the thought of his daughter's bold words gave him a burst of energy.

On the dock, Shen Qiongju, wrapped in a thick cloak, was saying goodbye to her third uncle.

"Third Uncle, I'm entrusting the affairs of the village to you," Shen Qiongju instructed. "The school needs to be arranged quickly. The building should be repaired first, and I've already asked someone to invite a teacher."

"Don't worry! Don't worry!" Uncle San patted his chest. "As long as this old man has a breath left, I'll definitely protect your house! If anyone dares to cause trouble, the whole village will take hoes and drive them out!"

Not far away, Pei Zhihui stood beside the carriage, while Zhao Qiyan circled around him.

"Hey Pei Erlang, are you sure you can handle this?" Zhao Qiyan said with a look of disgust. "The waterway is calm, but it's very humid on the river. I don't want to have to collect your corpse when we get to the capital."

Pei Zhihui glanced at him and said indifferently, "If the young marquis is so bored, why don't you go to the cabin and count the silver? After all, if you lose this time, the young marquis will really lose everything."

"Pah! Pah! You jinx!" Zhao Qiyan jumped up and down in anger. "I have plenty of money, but you'd better not drag Manager Shen down with you!"

"There's no need for you to trouble yourself, young marquis."

Pei Zhihui ignored him and turned to look at Shen Qiongju.

Just then, Shen Qiongju also looked over.

Their eyes met, and even the cold wind seemed to soften a little.

Shen Qiongju bid farewell to her third uncle and walked over quickly.

"Is everything arranged?" Pei Zhihui naturally reached out and tidied her wind-blown hair.

The gestures were intimate, yet they also carried a sense of asserting dominance.

Zhao Qiyan rolled her eyes.

"Yes, everything's ready." Shen Qiongju didn't flinch, but asked in a low voice, "Did you bring all your medicine? The ship isn't like home; if..."

"I brought it." Pei Zhihui interrupted her, a faint smile playing on his lips. "With my sister-in-law here, I won't die."

"Pah! Don't say that word before we set off!" Shen Qiongju glared at him and turned to look at the giant ship.

The river flows mightily, its turbid waves surging into the sky.

It was originally expected that Pei Zhihui would fall ill due to the fatigue of the journey, but unexpectedly, before they had even left Wu County by fifty miles, it was Shen Qiongju who collapsed first.

The boat bobbed with the current, and with each sway, Shen Qiongju felt a churning in her stomach.

She lay on the edge of the bed, her face as white as a freshly painted wall, her forehead covered in cold sweat.

"vomit--"

Another bout of dry heaving followed, but nothing came out; only acidic fluid burned in my throat.

"Qiongju, hang in there!"

Zhao Qiyan rushed into the cabin, carrying a gilded lacquer tray with seven or eight dishes on it.

"This is dried tangerine peel and plum, this is ginger milk curd, and this is... this is crucian carp soup that I had the boatman make fresh; I heard it's the best remedy for nausea!"

Zhao Qiyan originally intended to bring them over one by one for Shen Qiongju to try, but as soon as she put them on the table, a strong fishy smell mixed with the smell of ginger wafted over.

The nausea that Shen Qiongju had just suppressed instantly surged to the top of her head.

"Take it away..." she weakly waved her hand, tears welling up in her eyes, "Take it away quickly..."

"How could it not work? This is a secret recipe I bought for ten taels of silver!" Zhao Qiyan was so anxious that she paced back and forth, holding the fish soup to her lips. "Just one bite, just one bite, this is good stuff..."

A pale, slender hand reached out and firmly grasped Zhao Qiyan's wrist.