Early in the morning, Jiang Yinyue woke with a shiver and discovered that a section of the East Wing Room’s roof had collapsed, with wisps of morning breeze sneaking through the crack.
Little Lady Jiang, who had originally planned to travel along the same route as her husband, stood under the crack with hands on hips and shouldered the duties of household head. “I will find a tiler to repair the roof. You go on duty.”
Her husband, father-in-law, and elder uncle-in-law all had to report for duty and could not be late. Uncle Song, who served as both gatekeeper and steward, was no craftsman and could not handle fine work, so they had to find a tiler from outside.
Wei Qin, having changed into his official robes, glanced sideways at her. “What about Qi Bao?”
“We’ll go later. No rush.”
After seeing her husband and the two elders off from the residence, Jiang Yinyue took Du Juan to the market street and found a young tiler to bring back.
“Don’t worry, Young Madam. Leave this to me. I’ll make sure it’s repaired like new.”
The young man climbed onto the roof, patched the crack in a few swift moves, and replaced it with new tiles.
He was quick and efficient, but he was also an incessant blabbermouth.
“I used to be the head laborer at Manager Xie’s jade shop. Later, Manager Xie sold his house and lived in the shop, so I had to find other work.”
“Manager Xie?”
“Yeah, the one they call hunchbacked old Xie.”
Jiang Yinyue had just arrived in Yangzhou and had not heard of the man, so she merely smiled at that.
Birds chirped and swallows twittered merrily early in the morning, drawing Qi Bao to lie by the window and watch.
Wei Xichen, having fastened his jade belt, walked over and checked its wounds, confirming they were fine.
Today, he had a secret meeting with an experienced old salt merchant who had lost much business to rivals because he disliked currying favor. He might gain some new leads, so Wei Xichen placed great importance on it.
Their last meeting had been at the old salt merchant’s home. The elder had caught a cold and was bedridden.
Wei Xichen could not help thinking of his maternal grandfather, who had also caught a cold that lingered despite treatment, leaving his health much diminished.
Lady Dong’s pillar of support could not collapse. Yet, aside from the Crown Prince’s faction, the other powers in court seemed to be waiting for Grand Secretary Dong—one man below the emperor and above all others—to step down as chief minister.
Wei Xichen extended his hand, letting the approaching Qi Bao lick his palm.
“Are you waiting for her?”
Qi Bao stuck close to Wei Xichen’s side without leaving an inch. Without Jiang Yinyue there, it depended on him the most. This morning, Jiang Yinyue had not come as expected, nor had she sent word via messenger.
Wei Xichen still minded that “Crown Prince, please show some self-respect,” so he had not sent anyone to inquire.
He sat on the embroidered stool, waiting alongside Qi Bao for a certain someone.
When that person arrived, his brows and eyes remained indifferent. He patted Qi Bao, rose to wash his hands, and left silently just like that.
Jiang Yinyue, brushing past him, felt a bit puzzled. Was he sulking?
His tolerance was growing thinner.
Too lazy to guess, she hugged Qi Bao and made amends. “I’m late today. Don’t be mad, okay?”
Qi Bao bit her skirt hem and tugged her toward the door.
It was nearly stifled being cooped up in the room.
Jiang Yinyue took Qi Bao down from the second floor and ran into Yan Zhuyu, who had come to pay respects.
Qi Bao waddled its large rear toward the other side of the hall, not forgetting to whine twice to urge its owner along.
Jiang Yinyue and Yan Zhuyu ignored each other—one following Qi Bao to the small courtyard, the other watching the Crown Prince’s carriage depart into the distance.
The old salt merchant, freshly recovered from a serious illness, should not touch alcohol, so Wei Xichen chose a serene and elegant teahouse for their meeting.
The Heir Apparent need not have gone to such lengths, but this sincerity flattered the old salt merchant, who had been prepared to go down in flames together, and opened his floodgates of talk.
“So, over these three years, the Salt Transport Office handed part of the sales rights to salt peddlers outside the Merchant Register. These people rose rapidly, and some have already become venue merchants and chief merchants.”
“Exactly.”
By the laws of Da’an, only salt merchants registered in the Merchant Register had the qualifications to operate, and local Salt Transport Offices had to enforce this strictly.
Wafts of tea steam curled before Wei Xichen as he gazed out the half-open window.
Outside, carriages and horses streamed like flowing lines of light, converging in the man’s amber eyes full of gentle warmth, then freezing into threads of ice.
What the previous Salt Transport Envoy dared not do, Yan Hongchang had authorized after taking office.
Wei Xichen suddenly smiled. “You should know that Yan Hongchang’s daughter is my Consort Liangdi.”
This pointed remark drew a raised tone from the old salt merchant. “Your Highness is first sovereign, then son-in-law. You know which weighs heavier in your heart.”
He then added by way of amends, “Besides, Your Highness is not Yan Hongchang’s son-in-law.”
The merchant, squeezed out and targeted by Yan Hongchang for three full years and full of grievances and dissatisfaction, spoke with mockery and sarcasm.
Wei Xichen had grasped the old salt merchant’s psychology, cutting straight into the rift between salt merchants and salt officials to strike at the vital point—achieving twice the result with half the effort.
Now, he just needed concrete proof implicating Yan Hongchang, which could be obtained from those venue merchants and chief merchants.
Back then, the Chief Minister and the Empress had joined hands to shatter Yan Zhuyu’s dream of flying up the branch to become a phoenix, then slapped her with one hand while giving a sweet date with the other, promoting an eighth-rank minor official to Salt Transport Envoy. But Yan Hongchang was mud that could not stick to the wall. For immediate gains, he had embezzled on a massive scale, and in just three short years, he had stirred up such a huge mess.
This was also why Wei Xichen refused to summon Yan Hongchang privately.
They would tear faces sooner or later.
At noon, Manager Xie, having just closed a big deal, strolled leisurely back to his shop. He meant to reward his clerks but was startled by the master and servant already inside.
“Well, well, rare guests. Come, serve tea to Consort Liangdi at once.”
Yan Zhuyu, seated on the rosewood chair, darkened her face. She had clearly come to interrogate and accuse. “South Sea Pearls, priceless treasures—why did I not hear Manager Xie mention them?”
It had made her lose face before guests.
“You managers must have colluded to say nothing about the South Sea Pearls, right?”
Manager Xie squinted in a smile. “South Sea Pearls are priceless and rare, only whetting the appetites of wealthy patrons who can never obtain them. Why bother?”
“No merchant without deceit, all honeyed words and false colors.”
“What Your Ladyship says…”
“Han Jian.”
Manager Xie’s heart leaped to his throat as he watched the rakshasa-like brute approach. Propped on his cane, he retreated step by step with a forced smile until his heels hit the threshold, then leaped out and slipped away like greased lightning.
Han Jian gave chase.
The two weaved through the crowd several dozen zhang apart, one ahead and one behind. The hunched man with the cane moved with surprising agility, nearly tossing aside his crutch.
They dashed into an alley, where the man turned his head and shouted, “Consort Liangdi doesn’t treat you as human—why be so loyal to her? Come with me instead, and I’ll ensure you live in luxury.”
Han Jian said nothing, pursuing relentlessly. Suddenly, he stepped on a section of wall, leaped forward, and kicked Manager Xie in the calf.
Manager Xie sprawled on the ground with a “Hiss!” He rubbed his calf and rose, about to curse furiously when an iron fist smashed toward him.
Straight at his face.
“Bang!” Dust billowed around them.
Han Jian retreated, his feet skidding uncontrollably.
Manager Xie, who had caught the heavy punch, tossed aside his cane, clasped his hands behind his back, and stood straight—no longer hunched. “Kid, your knuckle is dislocated. Get it treated promptly.”
Han Jian clenched his aching right hand and eyed the man coldly, as if staring at a fox spirit that had cultivated to sentience. The other’s palm strength was not that of a middle-aged man. “The manager hides his depths well.”
“Flattery. Go get treated quick, or it’ll take ages to heal. You’ll lose value in Her Ladyship’s eyes.”
A dislocation was no small matter and could not be delayed. Continuing the spar would likely cripple his right hand. Han Jian turned with a cold face, enduring the pain to reset his own bone.
Once the alley fell quiet again, Manager Xie, left behind, clenched his left palm and grimaced in pain. Cursing under his breath, he headed to a nearby clinic and found a familiar physician.
“Old Zhao, reset it.”
“Hold on, Manager.”
The Zhao physician, tending to a female patient, asked while taking her pulse, “How’d it happen?”
“Ran into a brute.”
Manager Xie brushed past Miaodie, who accompanied her young mistress for a follow-up, and sat on the other side of the exam table. He inadvertently glanced at the pale-faced woman, then leaned back in the chair with eyes closed to regulate his breathing.
Wei Ying sneaked a peek at him, then quickly looked away. In terms of recklessness, this man was no less.
With a woman in the clinic, he barged in without a care for propriety.
Miaodie bent to whisper in her ear, “Miss, this is Manager Xie from the jade shop, Xie Jingcheng. They say he’s a shady merchant.”
The name was quite elegant, but the man too crude.
Hearing this, Manager Xie shrugged with a smile. “Introducing me, are you? I am Xie Jingcheng—of ‘brocade splendor come to perfection.'”
His small mutter was overheard by the subject, leaving Miaodie blushing furiously.
Wei Ying also felt embarrassed. One should not gossip about people to their face.
“I’ve heard of your great name.”
The woman’s mosquito-like voice was faint. Xie Jingcheng cupped his ear. “Miss, you know me?”
“No.”
“…Then how have you heard of my great name?”
Wei Ying had only been polite and had not expected him to press. She lowered her head, truly unsure how to deal with strangers.
The Zhao physician withdrew his hand and wrote a prescription for her. “Miss, you have excessive yin chill in your body, leading to lethargy and malaise. You must go out more to warm and stimulate your inner yang energy.”
“Understood.”
He saw the master and servant to the door, then returned to the exam table, grabbed Xie Jingcheng’s left hand, probed for a moment, and snapped it back into place.
“All set.”
Xie Jingcheng did not even frown, his starry eyes swirling.
Having earned Yan Zhuyu’s grudge, he could not return to the shop tonight.
And he had sold the house himself…
He shrugged and let out a light sigh, his voice like tinkling clear spring water—slightly different from his usual tone.
That evening, a light rain fell. After waiting a long time for Wei Xichen with no sign of him, Jiang Yinyue fell asleep hugging Qi Bao against the wall corner.
In her daze, she heard footsteps and groggily opened her eyes.
“Um… Wei Qin.”
Wei Xichen, about to drape a thin blanket over her, froze. His slightly bent waist slowly straightened.
He covered Qi Bao with the blanket instead.
Fully awake, Jiang Yinyue coughed awkwardly and patted the hefty Qi Bao in her arms. In her sleep-fogged state, she had mistaken the man draping the blanket for Wei Qin.
These days, aside from her father and brothers, only Wei Qin took such meticulous care of her.
“This humble wife takes her leave.”
She let go, rose and smoothed her wrinkled dress, gave a perfunctory curtsy, and made to depart.
“Wei Qin has not yet come.”
The man, silent for two days, finally spoke.
Jiang Yinyue uttered an “Oh” and walked right past him anyway, leaving the post station.
She was just going home—not as if she needed an escort. Besides, the office where Wei Qin worked was not far. With a thought, she mounted Chasing Wind and headed west.
Wei Xichen watched the woman gallop away on horseback, his distant gaze merging with the sunset.