The entire 201 AD, the second half of the year was not like this chaotic era in the late Han Dynasty. The major forces were as stable as if they suddenly believed in the Buddha. They had never fought a rare battle. The only explosion news that could be considered a bit shocking was that the little overlord of Jiangdong, Sun Ce, died!

Sometimes life is really fate! There is no incident in this time and space where the demon Taoist Yu Ji seeks his life! Mr. Yu is now staying in Xudu, pretending to be a god and applying medicine everywhere. By the way, he acted as a pharmacy master in the Wang clan studies, systematically and professionally passing on his pharmacy knowledge.

However, without any conflict with Yu Ji Lao Dao, Sun Ce still died as usual. He was still in good life. However, he did not show off his black bodyguards' pomp and insisted on going to the wilderness to pretend to be Robin Hood. He pursued freedom by himself. Good guy, a few assassins cleaned up the little overlord of Jiangdong.

However, Sun Ce's death was inseparable from General Cao. When the battle of Guandu was in full swing, Sun Ce planned to join the Sun's troops and go north to Xudu, and also wanted to make a kick in the Central Plains. Taking advantage of Yuan Shao and Cao Cao's defeat, a snipe and a clam fight to fight with the fisherman.

But who knows that Yuan Shao was defeated in an instant, and was defeated so miserably that the entire army was wiped out. While Cao was victorious, he also took over more than 20 Hebei generals including Gao Lan and Zhang He, with more than 10,000 more troops. This cut off Sun Ce's dream of the Central Plains. The dream was empty of Hongtu's dominance, and the injury was too much. Sun Ce would kick his legs and braid his hair when he couldn't think about it.

However, his death indirectly led to the formation of Sun Wu. The successor Sun Quan retreated and no longer focused on the Central Plains. He turned to manage Wujun and attacked the Shanyue people south, but instead expanded the influence of China to the later Zhejiang and Fujian areas.

Sun Wu in the south was stable, and Yuan Shao in the north was also licking his wounds. This made Wang Hou's life in Dongjun much more comfortable.

Wang Hou also created a miracle. None of the prisoners of 77,800 were run away all the winter. It seems that the attraction of marrying a wife is the same as that of the late Han Dynasty and later generations! In order to get a warm-up wife, nearly 80,000 men got up earlier than chickens and slept later than cows and mules, and worked diligently like old oxen. With their efforts, Dongjun, the fertile plains near the Yellow River and Jishui, and more than 8.6 million acres of winter wheat grew lushly.

And God is also looking for special care this year! You should know that the characteristics of winter wheat grow slowly. In the cold winter months, wheat does not grow too long leaves, and nutrients are mainly distributed to long poles. Therefore, as long as it is not less than minus twenty degrees below the winter, it is safe. But in spring, because new sprouts are about to start to head, the winter wheat will not resist frost.

After the Chinese New Year, Wang Hou looked at the weather terrified every day, and lived up to his high expectations. On February 10th, the Jishui River was the first to thaw. There was no ice flood in the Yellow River this year. Now it has been March. This year's spring harvest is a foregone conclusion.

Nowadays, food is wealth and chicken farts (GDP). Wang Hou can confirm it now. In another half a month, his Dongjun chicken farts will rise.

Zhencheng, a small building in the company, if it is an outsider, he would probably wonder if it was a rat when he came in, because the whole building was full of crackling sounds of abacus beads. There were eighty "big companies" with more than 80,000 people. As harvested, they had to calculate the grain needed by the brigades of their respective responsibilities, the damaged sickles and farm tools. In autumn, extensive agriculture directly scattered the seeds in the field, and then carried a hoe every day with a big tongue like Mengdo to prevent birds from coming to steal food. However, in spring harvest, 80,000 people would definitely not have enough staff to use nearly 8 million acres of land. They would have to calculate how many people they hired and how much they hired.

Fortunately, Wang Hou traveled through Arabic numerals and later books. Otherwise, according to the traditional sword-carved bamboo slips of the Han Empire, it would probably be that the accountants from aristocratic families would have the desire to hang themselves.

Wang Hou lived a happy life as a "big capitalist", and he didn't even have to worry about grain sales. The shareholders of more than 30 years later solved it themselves. Every month, as the chairman of the county magistrate, he just summed up the information, held a meeting, spoke a lot of saliva, and took everyone to enjoy the future. The subordinates were so busy like a grandson, and he became a dog on the top, with a cup of tea and a newspaper. The day passed, and his life was very leisurely.

Blowing the hot tea, Wang Hou happily calculated his small account book.

Eight and six million mu of fertile fields on the alluvial plains. Even if one acre of land produces only one stone, it will be eight and six million stones of wheat. Moreover, according to the current growth trend, it can be at least one and a half stones. In winter, Mr. Cao lent him 300,000 stones. After the harvest, he can repay him five million stones in one breath, and he can't stand up to him. Sitting on the desk, Wang Hou could even meet Cao Cao and a country bumpkin with a big teeth as if he was silly and happy.

With only five million shi left, Wang Hou can divide at least six or seven hundred thousand shi according to the dividends of shares. In addition to the cost of transportation, grinding, sales, and hundreds of thousands of kilograms of money invested in winter, he can make a profit in one year.

It is spring in Puyang City, and it can welcome a large number of east, west, south and north merchant groups, the well salt in Pudong County and iron pots and ironware in Funiu Mountain. It should be easy to make a profit of tens of thousands of chunks.

And there is another highlight this year, cotton!

I dug up Mr. Cao's garden. He had already harvested a batch of cotton seeds last year. He planted them again this year. He harvested cotton bolts in autumn, and then the cotton coats can be launched this winter! This thing is the only complete scorpion shit. In the scientific name of later American economists, it is called the monopoly organization large trumpet machine. According to the current cloth price, if there is no million trumpet a year, it will have hundreds of thousands of trumpets.

Even in this era, cloth itself is money, and growing cotton means opening a money printing yard directly.

The only thing that gave Wang Hou a headache was that although cotton is not picky about land, it also requires a lot of idle land. Although his Dongjun has land, the old labor resources are almost exhausted, and it is a pity to grow cotton on the fertile land of Dongjun!

Where can I open this cotton production base?

With a creaking sound, the office door was suddenly pushed open. Cao Hongjie, the first girl to eat crabs, came in wearing a small cotton coat printed and dyed by her own textile. Compared with the wide-sleeved skirt of this era, the cotton coat dress designed by Wang Hou himself was smaller in the cuffs. The pink cuffs, skirt edges, and yellow coat surface completely outlined the girl's exquisite figure. Wang Hou couldn't help but look straight every time she looked at it.

"What are you looking at? I haven't seen it before!"

It is also a thing to be proud of to make her husband so obsessed. Standing at the desk in a coincidence, Cao Xiaoniu was slightly shy when she was staring at her, and she was humming deliberately, looking angry.

"The skirt should be designed shorter to the thighs, and then put on skin-colored leggings, so that you can fully show your figure, Madam!"

The skirt is definitely bold in this era, and the skirt is only left to the thighs. Thinking about the appearance of wearing a miniskirt and slender legs wrapped in leggings, and the legs are completely revealed, Cao Hongjie is almost embarrassed. His little fist angrily knocks on Wang Hou's head, rolling his eyes and scolding Ren'er.

"Sexy gangster!"

"I haven't exposed my flesh yet. I'll design it when I go back tonight. Will we try it?"

Covering her head, Wang Hou deliberately begged with a pitiful look. Cao Hongjie had a fever again when she saw her face. She was really afraid that she would become soft-hearted, so she agreed to this shameful request and quickly changed the topic.

"Don't make a fuss! Xu Du is here to envoy, Prime Minister invites you to set off today, and there will be important meetings when returning to Xu!"

"Okay! Nothing good is going on again!"

Covering his head, Wang Hou's face suddenly turned into a bitter melon.
Chapter completed!