Chapter 8: Encountering Zhou Tong Again?

“Where can I find old grain for sale around here?”

Xu Houxiang glanced around, then lowered his voice. “Old grain is really hard to come by these days.”

He hesitated for a moment before adding, “Unless you go through certain grain merchants or large households, it’s tough to find any real old grain.”

“And to be honest, most of what’s sold on the market as ‘new grain’ is actually old grain mixed in. You need to keep your eyes open—don’t get scammed.”

Xu Houxiang shook his head in resignation. “If you’re looking to buy cheap old grain, you might not find it even if you search all of Hongtu County.”

“And if you go around openly asking for it and the authorities catch wind…”

He stopped mid-sentence and looked at Lu Chuan meaningfully.

Lu Chuan quickly caught the implication and nodded. “Got it. Thanks for the warning, Brother Xu.”

“You’re a smart man,” Xu Houxiang said. “Just remember—if you want to survive these days, you’ve got to be cautious. Very cautious.”

With that, he left, carrying the roe deer meat.

Lu Chuan watched him go, shaking his head with a wry smile.

His gut told him Xu Houxiang definitely had access to old grain. But whether out of caution or self-interest, the man clearly wasn’t going to share that lead.

So, buying old grain wouldn’t be as easy as Lu Chuan had hoped.

He tossed the coin pouch into his portable space and headed toward the grain shops.

After visiting three different shops, he confirmed exactly what Xu Houxiang had warned him about: every place was mixing old and new grain together—
and selling it at the price of fresh harvest.

“Damn it, what a bunch of greedy merchants,” Lu Chuan muttered.

Even the mixed grain was going for 50 qian per jin, the price of premium new grain.

“Shopkeeper…” Lu Chuan picked up a shriveled stalk of wheat from a sack and asked,

“Why are you mixing old and new grain and still charging for new grain?”

The shopkeeper scoffed. “What, you think there’s that much new grain lying around? Most of what’s available is old. If I don’t mix it, how am I supposed to make a living?”

The man gave him an annoyed look from behind the counter. “Buy it or don’t.”

“But charging new grain prices for a mixed batch seems a bit dishonest, doesn’t it?”

The shopkeeper waved him off impatiently.

“Go on, get out of here. You think I like the price either? This year’s been cold and dry—poor harvest. Be glad there’s any grain at all!”

Lu Chuan was momentarily speechless.

The logic didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t deny the reality.

Still, he wasn’t desperate for grain just yet. He figured he could look for another source later.

Just as he was about to leave, a loud and arrogant voice rang out near the door:

“Shopkeeper, the year’s nearly over!”

A familiar figure strode inside.

The man was dressed in black constable robes with a sword at his waist, looking smug and full of himself.

Lu Chuan narrowed his eyes. Wasn’t this the same officer who had brought a woman into the village earlier?

The constable noticed him at the same time.

He let out a cold laugh and drew his sword halfway from the scabbard.

“Well, well, brat. We meet again.”

As luck would have it, Zhou Tong was patrolling nearby today. Bored, he’d decided to drop by Cui’s Grain Shop to extort some money before finishing his shift—
money he’d planned to spend on drinks and brothel girls at Tingfeng Pavilion.

To his surprise, the very guy who’d defied him back in the village—Lu Chuan—was standing right there.

The moment Zhou Tong thought about how Lu Chuan had taken both of those beautiful women into his home—and that it had already been a full day—
he felt a sharp pain in his chest.

Surely by now, everything that could’ve happened… already had.

Just the thought of it made Zhou Tong ache with jealousy.

“What are you doing here?” Zhou Tong sneered. “Don’t tell me your household’s already out of food? The year-end tax is due in less than half a month—you owe three shi of grain, remember?”

Lu Chuan frowned.

He couldn’t understand why this man, Zhou Tong, harbored such intense hostility toward him.

He’d never provoked him.

Logically, their paths should never have even crossed, and even if Lu Chuan failed to pay his grain tax, that issue wouldn’t come up until two weeks from now.

“That’s not something you need to worry about,” Lu Chuan replied calmly. “I’ll pay every grain of it when the time comes.”

“Guards!” Zhou Tong barked, his face twitching with irritation at Lu Chuan’s composed tone.

Several constables rushed in from outside.

“I suspect this man is a Turkic spy!” Zhou Tong announced. “Take him back for interrogation!”

He smirked with satisfaction.

You think you can outplay me? I have a hundred ways to get rid of you without lifting a finger.

His eyes sparkled with glee.

Lu Chuan frowned again.

This was trouble. He wasn’t necessarily afraid of Zhou Tong—but resisting arrest would only create bigger problems.

After all, Zhou Tong was still an official.

But as he considered his options, a plan quickly formed in Lu Chuan’s mind.

“Hold on…”

“You accuse me of being a Turkic spy—what evidence do you have?”

Zhou Tong burst into loud laughter.

“Evidence? My word is evidence!” he said arrogantly, turning to the constables. “Did you hear that? He wants evidence! Hahaha!”

“That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in years!”

Zhou Tong was laughing so hard tears almost came out. “Lu Chuan, are you that brain-dead from farming? Trying to make me laugh to death?”

The constables nearby laughed uproariously as well.

But Lu Chuan only smiled faintly.

“Fine. I’ll go with you…”

He stepped forward obediently, casually glancing at Zhou Tong. “So, where’s the prison? Let’s head over now.”

For some reason, Zhou Tong felt a sudden chill in his chest.

Something felt off.

He grew alert. “What trick are you playing at?”

“Heaven’s my witness, I’m playing no trick at all,” Lu Chuan said cheerfully. “Officer Zhou here is clearly being considerate—he wants to lock me up so I won’t have to pay this year’s grain tax. I’m thrilled!”

Zhou Tong froze for a moment.

Then it hit him.

His face twisted with rage.

This Lu Chuan is cunning!

If he were thrown in jail, he could simply claim that Zhou Tong’s false accusation made him unable to pay his tax.

And if his superiors investigated the case and found no real evidence that Lu Chuan was a Turkic spy, Zhou Tong would be the one in trouble.

Worst case, if headquarters launched a thorough inquiry, they’d almost certainly confirm Lu Chuan’s innocence.

Zhou Tong broke into a cold sweat at the thought.