Zhang Xin stopped in his tracks.
Even with his expectations already set high, the number still made his eyes narrow slightly.
"Five to six hundred thousand shi… and a billion coins?"
He let out a slow breath, then suddenly laughed.
"Good. Very good."
This wasn't just wealth—it was lifeblood.
In a war-torn province like Qingzhou, grain was more valuable than gold. With this amount, he could stabilize prices, feed the army, and most importantly—win over the people.
Xun You stepped forward, lowering his voice slightly.
"My lord, this is only what we've seized openly. There are likely still hidden granaries and buried wealth. These families have operated here for generations—it won't be exhausted so easily."
Zhang Xin nodded.
"Continue the search. Leave no stone unturned."
Then he paused, his tone turning colder.
"And record everything carefully. Not a single coin is to go missing."
Xun You smiled faintly. "Understood."
—
Zhang Xin walked to the front of the grain carts.
Sacks upon sacks were piled high, forming small hills. Even without opening them, you could smell the faint, dry scent of stored grain.
He reached out, grabbed a handful from an opened sack, and let it fall slowly through his fingers.
Clean.
Well-preserved.
These weren't emergency reserves—they were hoarded wealth, stockpiled while the common people starved.
A flicker of killing intent passed through his eyes.
"While the people chew on husks… they sit on mountains of grain."
Xun You didn't respond.
He knew this wasn't a question.
—
After a moment, Zhang Xin turned around.
"Send word."
His voice was calm—but carried weight.
"In two days, the city markets will reopen."
"We will release grain at a fixed price—lower than the current market."
Xun You raised an eyebrow slightly. "How low?"
Zhang Xin didn't hesitate.
"Half."
Even Xun You was briefly surprised.
"My lord… if it's that low, the people will certainly rejoice—but the impact—"
"It's exactly what I want."
Zhang Xin cut him off.
"Right now, the people don't trust anyone. Not officials, not the law—only what fills their stomachs."
He looked toward the direction of the city.
"I will show them."
"That as long as I am here—"
"They will not starve."
—
Xun You studied Zhang Xin for a moment, then slowly smiled.
"My lord is using grain… to buy hearts."
Zhang Xin chuckled.
"Wrong."
He shook his head.
"I'm returning what was already theirs."
—
At that moment, Wang Ling hurried over again.
"My lord, the announcement has spread. The people are already discussing it everywhere."
Zhang Xin nodded.
"Good."
"Also—" Wang Ling hesitated, then continued, "there are rumors spreading that the four great families were framed… Some scholars are beginning to stir unrest."
Zhang Xin's expression didn't change.
"Scholars?"
He glanced toward the direction of the detention tents and let out a faint, almost amused laugh.
"Let them talk."
Then his tone turned icy.
"The more they talk… the more reason I have."
—
Back in the main tent, Zhang Xin began issuing orders one after another:
Continue interrogations—focus on uncovering hidden assets. Compile all crimes—tax evasion, land seizure, hoarding. Prepare public notices—list their offenses clearly.
If he was going to strike—
He wouldn't just kill.
He would make sure everyone understood why.
—
As night fell again, the city remained tense—but different from before.
Yesterday, it was fear.
Today, it was anticipation.
Two days later, grain would be sold at half price.
For the common people, that wasn't just good news.
It was hope.
—
Inside the camp, Zhang Xin sat alone for a moment, reviewing reports.
Then, as if remembering something, he suddenly chuckled softly.
"A billion coins…"
He tapped the table lightly.
"With this… Qingzhou can finally breathe."
But in his eyes, there was no greed.
Only calculation.
And something deeper—
A quiet, growing ambition.
Because he knew—
Grain could feed the people.
But power?
Power could decide who gets to eat at all.