Liu Bian at the start, so you're called Dong Zhuo, right?

The next day, just as dawn was breaking, a fire broke out in the backyard of the Tong Sheng Society.

Anyone who looks inside will not be able to understand what is being done in this courtyard.

An iron pot was set up with the vents open, and three large wooden basins were placed next to it: one containing grease, one containing wood ash, and one containing white slurry drawn from alkaline soil.

Looking at the pile of things, Wang Ming wondered to himself: This doesn't look like salt, cloth, grain, or wine, nor does it seem like any legitimate business.

Cao Ren stood guard at the courtyard gate with his arms crossed, while Xiahou Dun pinched his nose and said with disdain, "Young master, this smells almost as bad as it did in the cellar yesterday."

Liu Bian pretended not to hear, rolled up his sleeves, and pointed to the booklet in Zhou Wen's hand:

"Record it according to last night's method—where the ingredients came from, how much, how much they cost; how long the heat was; how many pounds were produced. Keep a record of each batch."

Zhou Wen hurriedly replied, "Yes."

"Divide into layers," Liu Bian continued. "Mengde, go outside to gather information and keep an eye on things; Wang Ming, keep an eye on the regulations and books; the rest of you, guard the courtyard gate. No one should be idle."

His words were like a combination of Xun Yu's three sentences from the previous night, all used in one breath.

Then, he turned to Xiahou Dun and said with a smile, "Since you dislike it so much, then you can stir the stuff in this pot."

Upon hearing this, Xiahou Dun immediately looked at Liu Bian with a bitter and resentful expression: "My lord, please don't! I'll go guard the gate!"

Having said that, he didn't wait for Liu Bian's reply and ran out of the courtyard gate in a flash.

Everyone in the courtyard burst into laughter.

Cao Cao stood under the corridor, his gaze fixed on the large iron pot, and suddenly realized that he couldn't understand this Crown Prince.

His actions are unpredictable, yet they always have unimaginable consequences.

Liu Bian first had someone slowly melt the grease.

The oil wasn't good oil bought from stores; it was mostly fat scraps and old oil residue collected from butcher shops, and even oil left over from the bottom of stoves that people couldn't bear to throw away.

Logically speaking, food that is fishy, ​​dirty, and sticky should be criticized, but this is exactly what's going on.

As soon as the oil heated up, a fishy smell rose up, and everyone in the courtyard took two steps back.

Liu Bian remained calm and simply stirred the oil with a wooden spoon, allowing the foam and impurities to slowly gather at the edge. Then, he filtered it with a fine cloth, and half of the oily noodles became clear.

"Lime juice." He raised his chin.

Wang Ming slowly poured the ash water from the wood ash into the side of the pot. As soon as the water entered the oil, fine white foam immediately rose in the pot, like a thin layer of snow rolling up, and was then pressed down by the wooden spoon.

Wang Ming's eyelids twitched: "Young Master, this... won't explode, will it?"

"There's a certain probability," Liu Bian replied calmly. "So we need to go slowly, stir things up, and leave room for maneuver."

As he stirred, he watched the mixture in the pot gradually lighten in color and thicken in consistency.

The heat should be controlled slowly and patiently, like sharpening a knife.

After a couple of quarters of an hour, the fishy smell in the pot subsided somewhat, replaced by an indescribable "soapy" smell, a little astringent and a little refreshing.

Liu Bian picked up a little bit with a wooden spoon and dripped it into cold water. It condensed into a small white-yellow ball that did not disperse or become oily.

He nodded: "It's seven-tenths."

He then ordered Wang Ming to add a little more white slurry from the alkaline soil and continue to simmer it over low heat.

Once the paste-like substance in the pot could cling to a spoon without dripping, he had it poured into a pre-oiled wooden mold, flattened, and placed in a cool, shady place.

Wang Ming couldn't help but ask, "That's... all?"

"It's still an hour away," Liu Bian said. "Wait until it sets before cutting it into pieces."

An hour later, the wooden mold was lifted, revealing a whole pale yellow soap blank inside.

Liu Bian cut the pieces into neat, square pieces with a knife. The edges were still a little soft, but he could already hold them.

He handed the first piece to Wang Ming: "You try it."

Wang Ming felt like he'd been given a hot potato: "How...how do I try this?"

Liu Bian pointed to a greasy rag and said, "Try this. Rub it a few times until white bubbles appear, then rinse it with water. That will remove the grease."

"Your hands are the most badly injured by the ash slurry." He looked at Wang Ming's knuckles. "You're the most suitable person to try it on."

"Soapberry?" Wang Ming asked, puzzled.

"Soap pods can only be obtained by borrowing natural resources, but what I want to do is to borrow human labor to make soap—from now on, washing clothes will not depend on the season, and cleaning stains will not require dental care."

Wang Ming didn't believe it, but he still went to the well to fetch water and used a greasy rag to wash himself.

At first he didn't believe it, but after rubbing it a couple of times, white bubbles actually appeared, fine and smooth, like a thin layer of cotton.

After rubbing it a few more times, the grease was removed, and a faint ring of oil floated on the surface of the water, while the cloth turned noticeably whiter.

Wang Ming was stunned. The cracks on the back of his hand, which usually hurt when they touched water, didn't sting as much this time.

Liu Bian felt relieved; at least he hadn't completely forgotten everything.

Xiahou Dun came over upon hearing the noise and was filled with disbelief upon seeing it.

He snatched it and rubbed his wristband clean, quickly washing away the sweat and grease, and clicked his tongue in amazement:

"It's fucking...good."

Cao Ren didn't say much, but he weighed the soap in his palm as if it were silver.

Zhou Wen's eyes lit up, and he quickly wrote in the booklet: how many kilograms of soap can be produced from one batch, how many pieces can be cut, the estimated cost, and how much it can be sold for.

Wang Ming, on the other hand, was full of flattery: "Your Highness is truly a genius."

Cao Cao stood to the side, looking at the pot, the book, and the blocks of soap, and suddenly whispered:

"Young master, if this isn't a soapberry, then what is it?"

Liu Bian smiled and said, "This thing is called 'soap'."

"Soap..."

Liu Bian turned to Wang Ming and said:

"Starting today, each member of the association who is responsible for carrying loads will be given a small piece of cloth and instructed to wash their hands and do laundry. They are to return in three days and report back on the positive and negative aspects. As for the workshop, two women who regularly do laundry will be given a trial run. Their names, comments, and responses will be recorded as before."

"Keep evidence," he added. "Reputation is also evidence."

Wang Ming's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly replied, "Yes."

Three days later, the echoes were overwhelming.

The foot strength team says that washing your hands won't hurt you, and the sweat will go away quickly. After running all day, you can go to a tavern without being disliked.

Women used it the most; it reduced the harshness of the water in winter, made it easier to rub off greasy collars, saved half the amount of ash, and prevented the cuts on the back of their hands from cracking again.

What followed was an overwhelming flood of inquiries about prices.

"Where did you buy this?" "Could you exchange it for a few more bars?" "My child is sick and very sensitive to dirt; could you please give me one bar of this soap?"

Even before the Tong Sheng Hui officially opened, people lined up at the door to "try it out".

Wang Ming was both overjoyed and panicked: "Young Master, if this gets out, what will happen to Tonglihang...?"

"It's good that word spreads," Liu Bian said calmly. "Didn't they say we had nowhere to go? I'll let them know that their connections aren't so reliable after all."

as predicted.

On the fifth day, the people from Zhu Xingtou's side came again, still talking about "verification" and "meeting fee," but their eyes no longer looked disdainful; instead, they seemed to be there to probe.

On the seventh day, the people from Tonglihang sent a more respectable manager, whose smile was deeper and whose words were softer:

"The Tongsheng Association has good products; why not cooperate? Use our brand, and we'll open up the sales channels for you."

Liu Bian only replied with one sentence: "I won't hang it."

When the other party met with a rebuff, they didn't immediately show it, but a shadow of gloom flashed across their face as they turned their head.

That night, in a house in the north of the city where the lights were still on, the people of Tonglihang and Zhuhangtou sat together.

Zhu Xingtou put down his teacup and said in a sinister voice:

"They've really managed to come up with something amazing."

"Manager Fang, regarding this soap... has your company made any progress?"

The man referred to as Manager Fang shook his head, then changed the subject:

"If we can't make soap, they shouldn't even think about continuing to make it either."

He looked at Zhu Xingtou: "I will cut off your path; you can destroy your reputation."

"Tomorrow, the clerk will issue a 'clean market' rule—all peddlers, oil vendors, and blacksmiths must register and obtain licenses. Those without licenses will be treated as private merchants."

"And buy up all the pork cracklings from the butcher shop at a high price. Buy them from the charcoal vendors too, and from the blacksmiths as well."

Zhu Xingtou smiled and said, "I understand."

-

On the day the Tongsheng Association opened, the alley in the southern part of Luoyang was even more bustling than the main street.

It wasn't gongs and drums, it was human voices.

A group of women were carrying basins in front, while their feet were jostling each other behind them. Even the shopkeepers of several small shops quietly lifted their curtains to take a look.

The word had already spread about the three-day trial period, and everyone wanted to buy one while the first batch was "on sale".

Cao Ren stood at the entrance of the hall, while Zhou Wen called out names and registered the attendees. At the same time, he posted a document with the words "Tong Sheng Hui Rules" on the door: money is settled every ten days, income and expenditure are based on accounts, all receipts are complete, and there are rules for withdrawal.

Liu Bian didn't stand at the main hall, but only by the back gate. He knew that once the soap was released, the reputation of the Tong Sheng Society would be established.

Before 3 PM, the soap that Tong Sheng Hui had prepared for two days was completely sold out, and the business closed early.

Wang Ming stood at the door, apologizing profusely to the people who hadn't managed to get anything, and told them to come earlier the next day.

Cao Cao and his men were not idle either. Seeing that the soap was selling so well, they had already gone to the market to buy materials.

But less than half an hour later, the group returned, filled with righteous indignation.

"Damn it, they won't sell this, they won't sell that. It's obvious someone's trying to mess with us!"

Liu Bian raised his head and looked at Cao Cao, who was at the head of the group:

"What happened?"

"The butcher shop said they've bought up all the grease since yesterday. Not just one shop, but half the street. Anyone who dares to sell to us will be told they're going to be inspected for taxes by the tax authorities tomorrow."

Cao Ren then spoke, his face grim:

"The grey market is the same. Someone has set a rule: grey market goods must be registered and have a license. Grey market goods dealers dare not sell, saying that if they do, their vehicles will be impounded. There are also people watching the alkaline soil side. Even the blacksmith's workshop—ten iron pots were ordered at once, and the order is booked until next month."

Just as Liu Bian was about to offer some words of comfort, an even more chaotic commotion suddenly arose outside the door.

Someone screamed, "Someone's being hurt! The Tong Sheng Society is hurting someone!"

Wang Ming snapped to attention and ran towards the front hall, with Cao Ren and Xiahou Yuan following at the same time.

At the entrance, the crowd pushed through, and a woman carrying a child rushed to the door. The child's arm was covered in red rashes, and he was crying uncontrollably. Tears streamed down the woman's face as she pointed at the soap and shouted:

"It's all because of this stuff! I washed my child with it once, and she broke out in a rash! You're killing her!"

Immediately, someone nearby chimed in, "Mine too! My hands get burning hot after washing them!"

"I knew it! There's no way something could be this good and so cheap. It must be packed with amazing ingredients!"

Some went even further, saying, "The Tong Sheng Hui is a shady organization! They swindle money and harm people!"

Liu Bian looked at these people, his eyes narrowing slightly.

He knew that some people were getting restless.