The Record of Helping the Ming Family

Zhang Mingrui woke up in severe pain from the tightening of the hemp rope. In front of him was the dilapidated cold kiln in Shaanxi in the fifth year of Chongzhen's reign. "Either pay back the money or collect the body!" The creditor Wang Lezi smiled grimly and tightened the noose. Zhang Mingrui squeezed out a few words from his suffocation: "I don't have money... But I can turn coarse salt into snowflake silver!" When the crystal grains of salt shone in Wang Laizi's palm, the entire creditor gang was stunned. He turned and walked towards the stove, where the first drop of brine was dripping from the filter device modified by local methods. "Wait," Zhang Mingrui wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, "this bitter salt flat is my first golden mountain." Outside in the wind and snow, a frozen body of a postman was being eaten by crows. Zhang Mingrui holds the salt spoon tightly - the Ming Dynasty begins with this salty spoon...