"To pay a donation."
Officer Qi pursed his lips, lowered his voice, and said:
"This year's drought affected four prefectures and thirteen counties, almost leaving no grain produced; now it's a harsh winter, and many refugees have flooded into the county town."
"If we don't open the warehouses to distribute food, they might not survive the year."
"Ah!" Mr. Han sighed:
"Young Master Fang is not an outsider, so I'll speak frankly; the granary has long been empty of grain, with more rats inside than rice."
"Money,"
"Naturally must come from people like us."
"Indeed." Chief Luo nodded, his face full of helplessness:
"As far as I know, the Ren Family has already contacted the grain merchants in the Prefecture City, and the price has been negotiated. As soon as the silver arrives, the grain will be sent."
The Ren Family?
Fang Zheng squinted.
