Chapter 193

Chapter 193: Without Fear or Care

At first, Wang Huai Zhi only came to give out porridge because he felt he had no choice.

Yet when he arrived and saw with his own eyes the poverty-stricken children and elderly of the slums, his heart softened. Young ones who looked merely seven or eight were already teenagers, their growth stunted by hunger. Old folks suffered illness, enduring silently.

He saw an elderly auntie receive her bowl of porridge. She barely took a sip, unwilling to drink more, planning instead to save it for her granddaughter.

Was it made of rare delicacies?

No, it was simply a bowl of porridge, not even the expensive rouge rice favored by the nobles, but ordinary common rice—something he regularly wasted without thought.

Only after repeated assurances did she reluctantly accept another bowl for herself. Witnessing this, Young Master Wang, who had never known hardship, felt tears burn behind his eyes.

Remembering the words Sheng Zhi Wan had sent via Liu Shang made his heart even heavier. Without hesitation, he increased his donation from two thousand silver taels to three thousand and tried to convince his wealthy friends to also open their purses.

However, before he succeeded in persuading his companions, Wang Huai Zhi was summoned urgently by the Prefect of Shuntian.

In the slums, which had always been dull and lifeless, three violent incidents had erupted within just half a day. One elderly auntie was nearly beaten to death.

After investigating, the Prefect discovered that these tragedies had been caused by a single bowl of porridge.

“How could this happen?” Wang Huai Zhi stared in disbelief at the injured auntie lying in the clinic.

Just a short time ago, she had thanked him endlessly, praising him as a good person.

Now she lay wounded, her head bleeding and her leg broken, while her little granddaughter cried inconsolably—all because of a plain bowl of porridge?

“It’s just porridge,” he murmured numbly.

“Young Master Wang,” said a weary constable, “we know you mean well. But did you consider what would happen? Even us constables can’t afford the ordinary rice you used—how could you give it to those poor souls?”

“What, they don’t deserve it?” Wang Huai Zhi snapped back.

Compared to the rouge rice eaten by the nobility, ordinary rice was hardly luxurious.

The constable sighed, “It’s not about deserving. Think about it—could something so good really stay safely in their hands?”

“This auntie was beaten because she refused to surrender her bowl. That thug didn’t even live in the slums and wasn’t starving. Yet he attacked her. Why? Because the rice in your porridge was too fine. Even he couldn’t afford such rice, so why should these poor people enjoy it?”

“Then arrest those troublemakers!”

“We’ve done that, but we can’t catch them all.”

Seeing Wang Huai Zhi’s stubbornness, the constable suggested gently, “If you must give out porridge, use coarse millet instead. It’s rough and old, but it fills bellies just the same, and costs much less. One pound of your fine rice can buy dozens of pounds of millet. You could feed many more.”

More importantly, no one would fight over a bowl of coarse millet porridge.

Wang Huai Zhi listened quietly, looking again at the injured auntie. Suddenly, he understood.

No wonder Princess Ning had sent word, advising him to use old millet with husks, though rougher in taste.

At first, he thought her insincere, pretending compassion while offering commoners coarse grains instead of refined rice like her own.

Yet now he saw clearly—she had anticipated this.

But how? She, a pampered princess who rarely stepped out, how had she known the hardships of common folk, that they’d even fight over a bowl of porridge?

He couldn’t understand, yet he obediently changed all the porridge to coarse millet.

In the days that followed, there were minor quarrels in the porridge lines, but no more robberies or violence.

Wang Huai Zhi even covered the auntie’s medical expenses himself, gradually shedding the arrogance of a rich young master.

Meanwhile, in Ji Prefecture—

Trouble came to Prosperous Hall almost every other day over the past half month.

Sometimes commoners unable to purchase cotton would cause disturbances, sometimes bandits armed with weapons raided. Fires were frequent, but fortunately always extinguished quickly by vigilant hunters and commoners, preventing further tragedy.

Yet today, Du Yi Zhi noticed fewer customers than usual at Prosperous Hall.

“Perhaps most locals already have their cotton?” Ah Jian guessed cautiously.

Du Yi Zhi frowned.

At that moment, Uncle Du Jiu hurried in, his expression grim. “Yi Zhi, something terrible happened!”

“Our smaller branches in the nearby counties—everyone who bought cotton yesterday ran into trouble!”

“What?” Du Yi Zhi stood abruptly.

Uncle Du Jiu explained everything he had heard, and before he finished, members from other branches of the Northern Du clan rushed in, each bringing similar news.

Du Yi Zhi listened, his gaze growing darker by the moment.

Southern Du and Prefect Yan couldn’t defeat him directly, so they had turned their cruelty onto innocent commoners?

Anyone buying cotton from Prosperous Hall had been robbed on their way home. Six people had already died yesterday—stripped of their cotton and clothes, freezing on the road.

Did these people truly have no regard for human life?

Or perhaps they believed that with Third Prince’s backing, they could act without fear or care?

No wonder customers had dwindled today.

“Tsk tsk, Boss Du, your business seems poor these days.” A mocking voice came from outside.

Du Yi Zhi’s gaze turned icy.

The speaker quickly stepped back, laughing nervously, “Easy, easy. Boss Du’s stare is frightening! Prefect Yan already proved I had nothing to do with your fire—I lost hundreds of pounds of lamp oil myself!”

Du Yi Zhi scoffed. The speaker was a shopkeeper from one of the Du family’s properties, and the servant caught committing arson had been from this man’s store. Du Yi Zhi knew perfectly well the truth behind it all.

Yet this man shamelessly lingered near Prosperous Hall to provoke him.

Du Yi Zhi retorted coldly, “Still, it’s better than your shop, Shopkeeper Sun. You’re so careless, losing hundreds of pounds of oil. The Du family was merciful not to throw you out!”

Sun Dun Xu scowled, stepping closer. “Boss Du, do you know why your business is failing?”

Du Yi Zhi remained silent.

Sun Dun Xu’s voice turned sinister, “Because Boss Du has a father who violated another man’s wife, causing her death. Your cotton carries misfortune! Everyone who buys from you suffers bad luck.”

“Just yesterday, several who bought your cotton froze to death on the road home!”