noffsinger Chapter 32: Money Box
Chapter 32: Money Box
As soon as the three entered the city, the hustle and bustle, along with the atmosphere of everyday life, hit them.
It was a unique flavor that blended the fragrance of grains, the sweetness of fruits and vegetables, the gamey smell of meat, and the aroma of dried grass and firewood.
The scene instantly enveloped Zou Yun, who was new to the place, making him feel as if he were in a vibrant and flowing human painting.
Every breath you take is filled with the most genuine human warmth and life.
The lively atmosphere was so intense that it was almost pungent, with various kinds of animal excrement mixed in, which made Zou Yun feel a little overwhelmed for a while.
"The newly harvested millet is plump and full, and the quantity is fair!"
A loud shout rang out nearby.
Looking in the direction of the sound, one could see rows of bulging burlap sacks neatly stacked in the grain store in front of the three people.
The bag was open, revealing plump, round millet, sorghum, and wheat grains of various colors, which gleamed warmly in the sunlight.
The grain owner was a lean man who stood in front of his stall, steadily holding a square wooden measuring cup made of official materials.
Seeing people stop and watch, they immediately put on a smile and greeted them warmly.
Occasionally, farmers dressed in coarse cloth and short brown clothes would come with a bag, take out a jingling half-ounce coin, and exchange it for a bushel of grain to make a living.
Zou Yun's gaze followed the straight and clean street deeper into the street, where rows of shops, without exception, sold all kinds of grains.
The orderly scene sparked a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
Seeing that he seemed a little confused, Feng Zhixue, who had been paying close attention to the Grand Master's expression, immediately stepped forward and explained in a low voice.
"Qin law stipulates that each market must strictly adhere to the rule of 'each market has its own category, and those of the same kind should be grouped together'."
"Goods of the same kind must be concentrated in the same area and arranged in order; they must never be mixed up at will."
"Therefore, this entire area sells only grains and cereals."
"As for the seating arrangements for the vendors, the government will directly mark out a fixed square area on the ground, which they are not allowed to cross."
"So that's how it is. There's even such detailed partition management."
Upon hearing this, Zou Yun couldn't help but marvel, gaining a new understanding of this distant era.
Then, his attention was drawn to a peculiar object displayed in front of each stall.
It was a short, stout, round-bellied gray pottery jar, shaped like a small bowl without a mouth.
The entire jar was smooth, with only a thin slit at the top; there was no other opening.
"What is this?"
Zou Yun pointed to one of them and asked curiously.
Feng Zhixue looked in the direction the Grand Master pointed and immediately understood.
"Oh, this thing is called a money box, and its purpose is specifically for storing coins."
"The buyer pays, and the vendor inserts the coins through this slit."
"This coin is cleverly designed; it is easy to insert coins but difficult to remove them. Unless you break it after it is full, there is no other way to get the coins out."
Therefore, it is also jokingly called "piggy bank" by the common people, which means "to fill it up and then use it".
"Then why place it in front of the four pillars, in such an obvious location? Aren't you afraid...?"
Just as Zou Yun was about to say that he wasn't afraid of it being stolen, he suddenly remembered that the entire city was closed off.
With soldiers patrolling all around, if someone dared to steal here, they wouldn't be able to escape once the city gates were sealed.
However, Feng Zhixue was unaware that he had instantly grasped the point. Seeing the Grand Master's confusion, he continued to answer.
"Master, you may not know this, but the Customs Law stipulates that merchants must publicly deposit money into a money box to prevent them from hiding it and evading market taxes."
As Feng Zhixue was speaking, Zou Yun saw the lean grain merchant put a few half-ounce coins into the jar.
"Therefore, each merchant places it in the most conspicuous place on their stall to show that they are complying with the law."
After saying this, Feng Zhixue paused briefly, then cupped his hands and said, "Grand Master, Zheng Jun and I need to go to different districts to purchase the supplies needed for this trip."
"You...?" Feng Zhixue hesitated slightly.
"Oh, you all go ahead and do your work, don't worry about me. I'll just wander around by myself and see if I find anything interesting."
Zou Yun had intended to observe the everyday life of the people on his own, so he waved his hand to send the two away.
He strolled through the market, examining everything closely.
The buildings within the storehouse were all designed for practicality, without any elaborate decorations or ornamentation.
Large, established merchants often built low wooden sheds, with sturdy round logs as pillars supporting a thick thatched roof or a sturdy linen cloth covering it.
Underneath the shed, there are long wooden tables or rammed earth platforms where various goods are neatly arranged and categorized.
The itinerant vendors were even simpler; they would simply spread out a straw mat or place a bamboo basket within the area designated by the government.
That would be the place where they would sit when they opened for business.
Throughout the entire city, every stall, without exception, faces the bustling streets and alleys, and everything is orderly.
From a distance, it looks like a meticulously arranged chessboard, with clear lines and lines, revealing the unique orderly beauty of the Qin Dynasty market.
Zou Yun wandered around with great interest, and before he knew it, he had circled back to the grain store area where he had started.
At this moment, a large crowd had gathered under a row of low sheds at the grain store in the east of the city, the atmosphere quite different from the peaceful business activity around them.
A man dressed in rough clothes, with a weathered face, clearly a commoner from the countryside, was seen arguing fiercely with a grain merchant.
It attracted a crowd of onlookers, including vendors and passersby.
The farmer was clutching a freshly filled rice sack tightly in his hand, the opening of which was tied shut.
"Bang!"
The grain merchant opposite him looked furious, slamming his hand against the edge of the official-grade square grain container on his stall, and insisted.
"You ignorant fool, you clearly told me to measure two dou (a unit of dry measure). I filled one of your bags, and then you handed me an empty bag to fill with another dou."
"Now you're carrying a whole bag, but you insist you only bought a bushel. Are you trying to get a bushel of rice from me for free?!"
"There's no such logic in the world!"
The farmer, his face flushed with embarrassment, waved his hands repeatedly, "Nonsense! I only let you measure one peck from beginning to end. There was never a second peck!"
"You...you're trying to scam me out of nothing! I paid for a bushel of rice, and I'm only taking a bushel's worth!"
The grain merchant immediately raised his voice and shouted to the surrounding vendors and onlookers.
"Fellow villagers and neighbors, you all saw it. Judge for yourselves! This man clearly took two bushels of rice, but only wants to pay for one bushel, trying to take advantage of my poor eyesight."
"The laws of the Great Qin City are clear: stealing grain or underpaying is the same crime as theft."
"Don't go, I'll take you to see the market official right now so he can make a decision."
As he shouted, he deliberately pointed to another bag of millet that had already been filled on the side of the stall, saying that it was a bushel that the farmer had secretly kept and hadn't taken away.
These words carried immense weight.
Qin law was strict; once someone was found guilty of stealing grain or underpaying, they would be severely punished.
At best, their property will be confiscated; at worst, they will be enslaved by the government.
How could a powerless and insignificant countryman bear such a serious crime?
The farmer's face turned deathly pale, his lips trembling as he frantically protested, "I...I only bought one bushel. I paid immediately after you measured it; how could I have taken more than my share?"
"You're deliberately framing me!"
As he spoke, his hand unconsciously gripped the empty money pouch at his waist tightly, his knuckles turning white.
His thin body trembled violently with anger and fear, like a helpless leaf falling in the autumn wind.