The compound was built in a traditional quadrangle style. Yang Jingyuan entered through the back entrance, with the main gate still ahead. Two large dogs were chained at the entrance, barking into the courtyard.
“What a waste, that piece of brocade was only half-woven.”
“What’s there to waste? Even half-woven brocade can be made into children’s clothes. A foot or half a foot can be cut into handkerchiefs. Even just a few inches can be salvaged for headbands or shoe uppers.”
Hearing this conversation, Yang Jingyuan’s eyes lit up as he peered around the corner of the side building.
The place was spacious, with a large pile of unfinished brocade in the courtyard. Two women were carrying hemp sacks, picking through the pile of fabric.
A man who appeared to be the steward walked out of the building. Seeing the two women crouching and selecting larger pieces of brocade, he hurriedly said, “Aunties, just pack it up and go quickly. Why are you still picking through it? When would you normally use such fine brocade at home? The master’s brocade transport convoy will arrive shortly—don’t let them see you.”
Urged by his words, the women responded with a quick “ah” and began hastily stuffing the brocade directly into their bags. After filling one bag, they still looked reluctant: “There’s still so much here…”
“That’s enough. If you take it all, I won’t be able to explain it to the master.” The steward anxiously led the two women toward a side door, instructing them as they walked, “Hurry and leave through the Sangshan route, don’t run into the convoy. If anyone asks, say these are leftover pieces from the shop. Don’t breathe a word about this to anyone.”
After the three disappeared around the corner, Yang Jingyuan darted out. With his years of experience wearing fine clothing, he quickly grabbed a piece of the Zhao family’s most distinctive brocade and tucked it into his clothes. He ran to the window and discovered this was where the weaving workshop’s storehouse was located.
The windows were fitted with iron bars, leaving only tiny gaps. The door was locked. After some consideration, he retreated to the surrounding wall and climbed onto the roof. Lying on the roof, he removed a tile. The storehouse was built tall, without a ceiling. Through the opened tile, he could see the high beams and boxes stacked halfway up. Through the open box lids, he could see complete bolts of brocade wrapped in oilcloth.
He turned over and lay quietly on the far side of the roof, waiting.
A full hour passed before the dogs’ barking roused Yang Jingyuan. He remained still, listening to the sound of ox carts entering.
“Hurry and move everything! All the brocade must be moved today!”
He turned his head to look through the gap he’d created.
A group of people entered the storehouse, carrying out wooden boxes filled with brocade. With so many people working, it took only half an hour to remove all the boxes.
Soon after, the convoy slowly drove out of the compound.
The Zhao family had taken away all their inventory—but where were they sending it? Should he follow the ox carts? Just as Yang Jingyuan was about to leave, more people arrived.
“Second Young Master, why have you come personally?” It was the steward from earlier speaking.
Hearing this form of address, Yang Jingyuan pricked up his ears.
Zhao Xiuyuan walked into the storehouse, glanced around without comment, then walked back out. “Is this all the unfinished brocade in the courtyard?”
“Yes, I checked personally. There isn’t a single thread left on any loom,” the steward respectfully replied.
“Everything prepared?”
The steward quickly brought out a jar from the building.
“Burn it.”
The steward looked at the pile of brocade with distress, gathering his courage to say, “Second Young Master, the last batch of inventory has been transported away. Weaving these brocades isn’t easy—it takes a month to weave just a foot or two. Isn’t it too wasteful to burn them?”
Zhao Xiuyuan laughed coldly, “If I, the master, am not concerned about the waste, why are you? Burn it!”
“Yes.”
The jar was filled with oil, which was poured over the pile of brocade. The steward took out a fire starter, lit it, and threw it in with closed eyes. The oil-soaked brocade burst into flames instantly.
Watching the brocade burn, Zhao Xiuyuan said with satisfaction, “Clean up thoroughly and lock the workshop. Leave some guards, but you go home and rest for a while. You’ll still be paid. Come back when the workshop reopens next year.”
“Yes,” the steward acknowledged.
After Zhao Xiuyuan left, Yang Jingyuan returned to Sangshan the way he had come.
Sang Fourteen had been waiting anxiously, and when he saw him return, urgently asked, “Why were you gone so long?”
“I saw and heard some things.” Yang Jingyuan recounted what he had witnessed in the workshop, his sharp gaze fixed on the smoke rising from the estate. “Fourteen, what do you make of this?”
“‘Come back when the workshop reopens next year.'” Sang Fourteen smiled. “That’s an interesting statement. The Zhao family isn’t collecting spring silkworms or summer silkworms this year, not weaving brocade. They even burned half-finished pieces.”
Their eyes met, and they spoke in unison: “Nanzhao is going to revolt this year.”
“The Zhao family must be in collusion with Sheng Fengze. They know about the upcoming war. Buying silk and weaving brocade now would only waste silver. That’s why they’ve stopped production,” Yang Jingyuan said.
Sang Fourteen shook his head with a sigh: “It’s more than just stopping production. The Zhao family moved all the workshop’s inventory. They must be hiding it somewhere safe, waiting to sell it at a premium after the chaos passes. But where’s the proof?”
Yang Jingyuan pulled out the piece of unfinished brocade he’d stolen from the pile: “Better than nothing.”
“How can you convince anyone with just this unfinished piece?” Sang Fourteen couldn’t help but smile bitterly.
The Zhao family were merchants—who could question their decision not to weave brocade this year? How could this piece of fabric with threads still attached prove any connection to Nanzhao’s uprising?
“Fourteen, you’re Deputy Commander Niu’s son-in-law. Your wedding is in October, right?”
Sang Fourteen and Niu Seventh Miss had been betrothed since childhood, and they would marry after she came of age this year. Sang Fourteen nodded, “Yes, after the brocade competition, on the twelfth of October.”
Shaking the brocade in his hand, Yang Jingyuan smiled brilliantly and cunningly: “With such a certain marriage, your father-in-law should listen to his future son-in-law, right?”
Sang Fourteen pointed at his nose, stuttering, “You… you want me to… inform on them? Without evidence, and with international relations at stake, Deputy Commander Niu absolutely won’t believe it.”
Yang Jingyuan put an arm around his shoulders, “Think about it. Niu Fifth Miss married into the Zhao family, and she’s Deputy Commander Niu’s precious daughter, isn’t she? Since her disfigurement, Deputy Commander Niu and Madam Niu have felt they failed to protect her properly, making them even more protective of her than of Seventh Miss. Better safe than sorry. Wouldn’t Deputy Commander Niu worry about the Zhao family bringing trouble? Even if he doesn’t believe us, he might find a way to bring Niu Fifth Miss home first. If war doesn’t break out this year, no harm done. If it does, Deputy Commander Niu could claim credit for being the first to report it. The Niu family wins either way. As for the Zhao family, this is what we call ‘beating the grass to startle the snake.'”
“That makes sense. We don’t need Deputy Commander Niu to believe us; we just need him to be cautious enough to bring Niu Fifth Miss home. That will put the Zhao family on alert. They might panic and give us the evidence we need.” Sang Fourteen thought of something else, “Should I just go with this piece of unfinished brocade? What should I say?”
Yang Jingyuan smiled, “Naturally, I’ll go with you. Don’t forget, I’m now a personal guard of the Military Commissioner of Dongchuan. I’m investigating under orders. Given our special relationship, secretly informing Deputy Commander Niu—he should be thanking me, shouldn’t he?”
Sang Fourteen gave him a thumbs up.