Dugu Wu whispered softly,
"Damn servant, deserves to die."
In a hundred jin of grain seeds, it was almost always adulterated with sand and stones, and the remaining seeds were also molded and old.
If these were taken back and sown, even without any natural disasters and with favorable weather, the harvest would still fall short.
Indeed, that was the case.
Feng Bailing gave a bitter smile.
In that life, when she begged on the streets, she had witnessed a tragedy.
The villagers of a village, due to consistent poor harvests and inability to pay taxes, went to inform the officials; but the officials protected one another, leaving the villagers with nothing but a beating and no follow-up.
In desperation, the villagers, armed with firewood knives, killed an agricultural officer of the seed institution, and several villagers wrote a blood letter to appeal for justice before they hanged themselves on the street.
