Zilharang cut off the whip and shaved his head like a scoop with a blessed head. At the back of the head, a bun was also combed.

How to wear the kimono of the Japanese people feels awkward, it feels like a ball of cloth on the body. The clogs on the feet are even more awkwardly dressed, heavy and slippery. There were several times when Zilharang wanted to throw away the clogs, and he was just fucking barefoot.

The only thing that can be regarded as a kind of heart is this sword, which was given to Huang Taiji by Kobayakawa Longjing.

No way, wearing a riding coat and combing braids. As long as you meet a Ming person, you will be stopped, and then you will be stabbed in the neck, and your head will be sent to Daming to ask for reward.

This is the standard process for the Ming people to meet the Jurchens, and of course there are also those who kill people from other countries and pretend to be Jurchens. There are many North Koreans who have had their heads cut off for some reason.

But seeing what happened to those people who were found out, everyone didn't dare to do it anymore.

After all, the bounty was only five silver coins, and the risk of revoking the dealer's license for five silver coins was too high.

Merchants in Daming must have a license, and the sale of counterfeit goods will be recorded. An iron sign will be hung at your door, indicating what kind of fakes the family has sold in what year and month.

It's really cast, and it's impossible to change it. No matter what you do in the future, the iron card of checking the bottom file will always follow you.

It can be said that with such an iron card, you don't want to do business in your life.

There are no businessmen and no treachery, but the businessmen of the Ming Dynasty are now all honest. Honestly make money, and if you say it's gold, it will never be gold-plated.

If you say it's a permanent bike, it's definitely not a flying pigeon.

Li Xiao is punished for taking one hundred times, and no one wants to ruin the way out of this life in order to make money for a while.

As a result, Ming businessmen have become the most law-abiding group of people. Whether it is the Li family, the Sun family, the Zheng family, the Shi family, the Chen family, or the Ao Ye and Man Ye, the first thing they do to make money is to pay taxes.

The big guys all do this, and the little brothers at the bottom naturally follow suit. There used to be petty officials in some places who did not take the court law seriously.

As a result, the family's business was shut down, and he himself was expelled from the civil service, never to be used.

Smashing jobs, this is Li Xiao's means.

There is no money, no living soil and no environment. In the end, it can only be that he is not as good as being called a flower child, a big man who used to be rich in clothes and food, and now he is begging in tattered clothes on the street, this is the best education.

The power of example is endless, whether positive or negative.

Zilharang glanced at Mumbai, a city he once knew so well. The city was so bustling at the beginning, full of shops.

The harbor was full of merchant ships from various countries, and all kinds of products produced in Mumbai were sold to Europe, bringing back a large amount of income every year, which was used by Wu Sangui to expand armaments and conduct weapons research.

It was the presence of so many factories in Mumbai that led to the military prosperity of India led by Wu Sangui.

Everything went in the air, and a battle of Mumbai nearly destroyed the city of Mumbai. Because all the factories in Mumbai were all concentrated together, all the factories in Mumbai were more or less affected by the war.

Now, three years later, the city of Mumbai is still devastated. Littered with relics of war, Zilharang walks the streets of Mumbai, recalling from time to time what the ruins used to be.

There was a group of people sitting at the entrance of the Grand Hotel in Mumbai, and they didn't move or go. Zilharan thought they were monks, or some other kind of practitioner.

It wasn't until he saw someone with leftovers in front of them, and these guys rushed up to scramble for it, that he realized that these people were actually beggars.

When Wu Sangui was here, there weren't so many beggars.

In fact, almost all the people in the city of Mumbai at that time who could work with long hands went to work in the factories. If there is a class, there will be a salary, and if there is a salary, you will have the ability to spend. Where there is consumption, there will be taxes, and with taxes there will be more factories to be built.

The virtuous circle had long since led to the prosperity of the city of Mumbai, but the war cut it off all at once. The factory closed down, and the machinery was dismantled and sold to the Ming Dynasty as scrap.

The workers went from a life of abundance to the abyss.

Nowadays, the most prosperous business in Mumbai is the brothel, and the industry with the largest number of employees is the one that is out of business. When these become a means of livelihood, the whole city is deformed.

Just two streets around the Grand Hotel in Mumbai, there are more than 20 high-end brothels. Upstairs in every brothel, there are young faces poking out of the window.

A little girl who was only ten years old by sight, with bright red lipstick on her mouth and flame patterns on her head. The foundation on his face was white and scary, as if a dead man had been soaking in water for more than ten days.

She was shouting hard about business, and when she saw the man passing by, her eyes were about to fly out of her sockets. Every time a man walks by, ignoring her coquettish voice, there is a sadness in his eyes.

But the grief only lasted for a while, and before long, she would burst into a silver bell-like laugh at the next man.

Zilharang prides himself on not being a good person, but he can't get down his teeth when he sees this kind of little girl. It's so small, it's clearly a child.

In addition to brothels, the most seen are casinos.

There were more than a dozen strong men standing at the door, and through the curtain you could hear the frantic noise inside.

The side gate has seriously eroded the body of the city, and it is estimated that it is impossible to have the prosperity of Wu Sangui when he was in power.

No one misses Wu Sangui, at least Zilharang didn't hear it. Everyone either gambles, or goes to the smoke house to smoke, or goes to the brothel to find a little girl to spend the afternoon.

Smoke houses are absolutely not allowed to exist in Daming. If someone dares to sell this kind of thing in Daming, he can be directly sentenced to death. And whether it is sold or bought, there will be penalties.

But in India, no one is going to ban it. There are even Indian farmers who specialize in planting poppy trees, because growing them is far more profitable than growing food.

The money from selling poppy trees to buy grain is far more fruitful than growing grain directly.

With a smoke house, there will naturally be those big smokers who describe it as withered, like walking corpses. There are many such people among the beggars, and among the many people, you can tell at a glance that these ghost-like people are like them.

Zilharang sighed and could only continue walking. Small vendors began to appear on the streets, selling small snacks or some gadgets made by the Ming Dynasty. Everyone was shouting and shouting, hoping to sell the goods in their hands.

Seeing two messengers wrapped in turbans approaching, the vendor would skillfully take out two copper plates and put them into the officer's big hand.

The messenger nodded, and continued to the next stall.

Sometimes they take the little things that look good at the stalls, or pick up a snack and take a bite or two. The delicious ones nodded and took more, and the undelicious ones were spit out, and then taunted the vendors.

Poverty and corruption are almost twin brothers, and the poorer the place, the more corruption will be eradicated to the lowest level of society. Because there is nowhere else to plunder power, they can only plunder the poorest of the people. Leeches suck the nutrients on their bodies like leeches to satisfy their own survival.

In Wu Sangui's era, there would be no such thing. Because the servants were always paid a full salary, and they also had a local share in the business.

The annual dividend is a lot of income, and they can't compete with these poor people at all. These poor ghosts, even if they are squeezed dry, have a few taels of oil and water.

Zilharan continued to walk, and accidentally walked into the slum.

As soon as he entered the slum, Zilharang felt his eyes pickled, and soon tears flowed. I took out a mask from my pocket and put it on, it was so smelly.

It's a brain-pounding stench, and you can't even get sick before you vomit.

Rao is Zilharang had smelled the smell of corpses on the battlefield, and he couldn't stand this disgusting smell for a while. It's finally a little better to put on a mask, and there is a stinky ditch on the side of the street.

The sticky, mushy stuff inside barely flowed, and the dark green liquid wasn't bubbling. There was a swarm of flies lying on it, and the side was crawling with maggots wriggling in white flowers.

As I walked through the ditch, a swarm of flies flew up and hit my face, not to mention how disgusting.

Zilharang pulled out another pair of glasses and put them on, and now he was thankful to the maître d'art at the Grand Hotel in Mumbai. If he hadn't reminded him, Zilharang would have turned and fled immediately.

Wearing sunglasses, the harsh sunlight doesn't seem to be so dazzling. From time to time, flies hit the sunglasses and made a "dang" sound.

Turning a corner, there was a pool of water in a large clearing.

The pool was filled with green algae, and a group of children swam in it, and the algae was peeled away to reveal the blue-green water below.

Zilharang could even see white maggots crawling on them.

There is a huge mountain of garbage in the middle of the pool, and many children are crawling around on it. There was a distance of more than 500 meters, and Zilharang, who was wearing a mask, felt that he couldn't stand it.

Scorching Mumbai, mountains of garbage fermenting in the sun. The smell is indescribable, and if it can have such power, it is estimated that it is a poison gas bomb.

But these children are crawling around on the fermented garbage. Zilharan even saw children find something like a treasure and stuff it into their mouths without waiting for anyone else to react.

Walk into what can barely be called a house, a reinforced concrete building. Half of it has collapsed, and the other half is still inhabited by several families.

Zilharang could barely recognise how beautiful the former Bombay Machine Tool Factory dormitory building was.

Each family lives in a small two-story building with a small courtyard downstairs. Some people plant flowers in the yard, and some people will plant some melons and fruits.

Passing by here at this time of year, a piece of birds and flowers are fragrant.

That huge pool over there is the pool of the machine tool factory. Every summer evening, there are a lot of people swimming in it. With the afterglow of the setting sun, announce to the sun that you have had a good day.

Zilharang stood for a long time, and his heart was sour. Three years, just three years, this place has become dilapidated. You can't tell the prosperity of the past here!

Walking to the door of a family's house, he saw a skinny, broken man lying on a chaise longue. The guy's eyes were deep, and his rib bones like a washboard were exposed to the air. A towel is placed on the lower body, which is the only fig leaf on the body.

Zilharan wasn't sure if the guy was dead or alive, because he couldn't see the heaving of the guy's chest.

"Hey! Do you know where slimes are? "After living for a few years, of course Zilharang speaks Indian.

The skeleton opened its eyes weakly: "Who are you?" ”

"Do you know slimes?" Zilharang took out a piece of cake from his pocket, and for these people, it was much more intuitive to eat in one bite than a copper plate.

When he saw the cake, the skeleton's eyes lit up all of a sudden. With difficulty he got up from his chair, climbed up in front of Zilharang, grabbed the cake and stuffed it in his mouth.

Zilharang didn't even see him chewing, the cake was already in his stomach.

Sticking out his skinny paws, he looked at Zilharan with longing eyes. Zilharang had no choice but to take out another piece of cake.

"Tell me where the slime is, and I'll give it to you." The cake was held high, and the skeleton below swallowed hard.

"I'm the Slime, and you're Lord Zilharang." The skeleton's voice suddenly became louder.

"You're a slime?" Zilharang could barely believe his eyes, this skeletal man was actually a tall slime.

"I'm a slime, Lord Zilharang. I recognize your voice, and I finally hope you back. Tears welled up in the slime's eyes.

He is a mixed-race Indian, his father is British, and his mother is Indian.

Zilharang carefully identified it, and finally determined from the typical English hooked nose that this was the slime he was looking for.

"How did you become like this!" Zilharang handed the cake to the slime.

The slime swallowed the cake again, he didn't speak, and it looked like he wanted another slice.

"Slime, you can't eat any more, if you finish this bag, you'll die." Zilharang was ruthless and covered his pocket to prevent the slime from eating again.

"Hey......!" Seeing that there was no cake to eat, the slime sat on the ground and sighed.

"General Wu has been defeated, and you and Lord Dorgon don't know where they went. After the Ming people came, the first thing they did was to disassemble the factory's machines and ship them away.

The workers received a small amount of money each and were sent home. Almost all the factories in Mumbai are like this, and all of a sudden, people looking for work are everywhere.

There are no factories, no one can find a job. Even the job of washing dishes in a hotel has become a sought-after errand.

It's been three years! It's been three years! The workers are miserable! ”