Chapter Twenty-Two: Refugees from the North

Wu Yue did not understand business matters; she only knew that the world outside was far too dangerous, and if Jiang Chen were to venture out, he might truly meet with peril. This left her uneasy and restless, always wanting to persuade Jiang Chen not to go, yet hesitating, unsure if she should say so.

But Jiang Chen told her this was the way of business—one could not always rest easy at home. Only those who seized the initiative could remain in control. After his reasonable and well-founded persuasion, Wu Yue reluctantly agreed to let him go, but made him promise to return quickly.

Jiang Chen ended by saying, “Don’t worry, with my lovely wife waiting at home, how could I dare not return?”

Wu Yue protested coyly, “Oh, now you’re starting to joke around like the others. I’m not married into your family yet!”

“It’s only a matter of time!”

That evening, Jiang Chen and Wu Yue cooked and dined together at home, speaking at length about the future—very much like a newlywed couple, harmonious and content.

At dawn the next day, Jiang Chen set out for another town with Gu Jun in tow. The purpose of this trip was to reach Gucheng County, a hundred li away, where there was a kiln specializing in porcelain vessels of various shapes, styles, and colors.

Gu Jun did not understand the purpose, so Jiang Chen explained, “The wealthy do not care most about how fine the wine is, but how much face it can bring them. So we need to pay attention to the packaging and appearance of Jiangyuebai.”

“Oh? You can make something new out of a wine jar?”

“Of course. If, whenever a rich man takes out a jar of Jiangyuebai and everyone immediately gives him a thumbs-up, that’s exactly what they want.”

Jiang Chen thoroughly understood the psychology of the wealthy—this was yet another improvement to ensure the continued success of Jiangyuebai.

As they journeyed, the two saw many refugees carrying bundles, families in tow, fleeing disaster. Their bodies were emaciated, skin and bone, with hollow, lifeless eyes—hope seemed to have been brutally pulled from them, leaving only bodies trudging forward like the walking dead.

“What’s happening at the northern front? Why are there so many refugees?”

Gu Jun’s brows knotted, his tone laden with barely suppressed anger and frustration. Jiang Chen only knew he had once been a soldier, and after his left hand was crippled, he had wandered to their town, becoming a rootless vagrant.

From Gu Jun’s reaction now, perhaps he had once fought in the north, but the outcome for