The manor.

Cao Lie glanced at Tao Xiaomi, whose face was creased with distress, and couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“My lord, please stop laughing.”

Tao Xiaomi said with a helpless expression, “It hasn’t even been three months and Chen Xugong is already dumping everything on me. At this rate, by the time we close the net, I’ll be the court’s number one target — the ringleader.”

Cao Lie only laughed harder.

Tao Xiaomi sighed. “You laugh so freely, my lord, but I’m stuffed full of grievances. I came up through the廷尉府 — the Imperial Judiciary. Just wait until they come to make arrests and come straight for me, clap a chain around my neck, and off we go: *’This way, brother — the Judiciary’s kept a private cell just for you.’*”

Cao Lie roared with laughter. “The fact that you can still joke means you’re not really worried.”

“You think this is a joke?”

“You’ve made it to second-in-command of this merchant guild,” Cao Lie said, “and that’s a good thing. But I think your goals right now are off.”

Tao Xiaomi quickly asked, “Does my lord have instructions?”

Cao Lie straightened up and spoke seriously. “That you climbed to second-in-command so effortlessly tells me three things.”

He held up one finger. “First — this Chen Xugong is nothing special. Just a fool. Why worry about him?”

“Second — the guild’s personnel structure has enormous exploitable gaps. If you make use of that, you can plant more of your own people inside. Forget second-in-command — when the time comes, you could depose Chen Xugong outright and take the top seat yourself.”

“Third — the reason you rose so easily is that your guild’s ambitions are set far too low. After more than two months of operation, your business is still confined to this one little Anshi County.”

“If you want to be a proper second-in-command, you need to think bigger. Cast your eyes across the four seas. Build the guild into something grand — then it won’t feel so easy.”

Tao Xiaomi just stared at Cao Lie, which only made Cao Lie want to laugh even more.

“Build it into something grand…”

Tao Xiaomi sighed. “My dear lord, if we build it that grand — if business stretches across all of Da Ning — then there’s no escaping the charge of ringleader.”

Cao Lie smiled. “You really have no ambition. All right, since you have no clear goal of your own, I’ll set one for you.”

“I’m not exactly thrilled to say it,” Tao Xiaomi said, “but: please give your orders, my lord.”

“That’s right — I’m currently the only one who can verify your identity. You’d better stay on my good side.”

Tao Xiaomi let out a long sigh.

“I fronted you a hundred thousand taels to grease the wheels,” Cao Lie said. “Here’s a small objective: return my hundred thousand taels of principal within six months. If you can’t manage that, I’ll go to His Majesty and tell him you’re in a precarious position, and that for your own protection, the Judiciary should erase all your records…”

“What did I ever do to you…”

Cao Lie burst out laughing. “Return my hundred thousand taels in six months, then earn another hundred thousand in the year after that. Do this well, and not only will your identity be secure — His Majesty will think fondly of you.”

Tao Xiaomi asked curiously, “Why would His Majesty think fondly of me?”

Cao Lie, perhaps because he was in particularly high spirits that day, actually took the trouble to explain.

“When I went to Chang’an to see His Majesty a while ago, the first thing he said to me was… *’I’m short on money.’*”

“His Majesty is short on money — can you, as his subject, just sit by and do nothing? If within a year you earn His Majesty a hundred thousand taels of pocket money, he’ll beam every time he sees you.”

Tao Xiaomi’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Why would I lie to you? Besides — if you don’t produce the pocket money for His Majesty, I’m the one who has to pay it.”

Tao Xiaomi was stunned.

“His Majesty is asking *you* for money, and you’re sending *me* to earn it…”

He sighed. “No wonder they say doing business with the young marquis leaves the grass scorched bare.”

Cao Lie smiled. “I lend you the capital, you earn silver for His Majesty. In the end, I haven’t spent a coin — I’m happy. You spent money, but His Majesty is happy. His Majesty is happy and promotes you — you’re happy too. Three people all happy. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“…Fine.”

Cao Lie clapped Tao Xiaomi on the shoulder. “Work hard!”

—

Two more months passed, and the new year had come. Da Ning’s first Imperial Prince had learned to walk — though he looked as if he might topple at any moment, the little fellow simply refused to sit down and rest, giddy with excitement over his newfound ability.

The Prince was given the name Li Longshi. Gao Xining gave him a milk name: Tuotuo.

As his mother, if she thought Li Chi’s milk name of Diudiu was fitting, then giving the Prince the milk name Tuotuo was reasonable enough.

But she kept calling her own son *”a lump,”* which made her seem like a rather undignified mother.

Watching the child toddle about, Gao Xining was quietly wondering: *when is this little thing going to fall?*

Xiahou Yuli, for her part, hovered anxiously behind little Li Tuotuo, terrified he would tumble.

“Don’t fuss — children fall when they’re learning to walk. Who ever learned to walk without falling?”

Gao Xining laughed. “My grandfather raised me that way, which is why I’m so tough.”

Xiahou Yuli shot her a look. “No wonder your head doesn’t work very well… all those childhood falls.”

“How dare you speak to the Empress like that! Don’t think I won’t have you sent to serve His Majesty.”

Xiahou Yuli’s face went red. She instinctively glanced down at her own abdomen. She had entered the palace two months ago — the auspicious date chosen before the new year. Upon entering, she had been titled Noble Consort, ranked just below Gao Xining — an arrangement Gao Xining had personally championed.

It must be said: Da Ning’s Empress had at last personally played matchmaker for someone.

Unlike the time Lu Chonglou married Zhao Shishi before the new year — she’d been matchmaker in name only, which had left her thoroughly dissatisfied.

Having successfully arranged Xiahou Yuli’s entry into the palace, Gao Xining had barely savored it before she was already scheming to bring Liu Yingyuan and Yuan Jiabei in as well.

Xiahou Yuli had only been in the palace two months, but already, with surprising swiftness… she was with child. The imperial physician had confirmed it just yesterday — a pulse of joy.

So when Gao Xining said she’d have her sent to serve His Majesty, Xiahou Yuli gave her another withering look.

The two of them kept watch over the child while, in the Eastern Warm Chamber, Li Chi was meeting with Master Yan and the others.

Master Yan looked a little rounder than before — Li Chi always said it was because Miss Ruoling took such good care of him.

“Cao Lie sent word yesterday.”

Li Chi said, “That man Chen Xugong, persuaded by Tao Xiaomi, wants to expand the business to Jiangnan.”

Master Yan let out a snort of laughter. “This Tao Xiaomi actually has some real talent — truly throws himself into whatever he does…”

Li Chi was infected by the comment and laughed too.

“Tao Xiaomi wrote Us a letter of complaint, saying Chen Xugong is an extraordinarily lazy man. Seeing him handle things so efficiently over these past months, Chen Xugong has simply handed over most of the business affairs and spends his days in pleasure, becoming a regular at the pleasure quarters.”

Li Chi smiled. “Tao Xiaomi says that at this rate, he’s not only worried he’ll end up the ringleader — he’ll be the principal offender.”

“And what did Your Majesty reply?”

“We sent word back: as long as you earn Us more silver, We’ll grant you a pardon when the time comes.”

“Hahahaha—”

Master Yan laughed until he nearly fell over.

“One more thing.”

Li Chi pointed to the memorial on the table. “This is Xu Ji’s second memorial since the new year, requesting permission to return to Chang’an. He’s probably been drifting out there too long, worried about shifts in the court — afraid We’ll elevate Lu Chonglou to replace him while he’s away, or that the longer he’s gone, the more enemies he accumulates.”

Master Yan said, “Does Your Majesty intend to let him return?”

Li Chi nodded. “Let him come back. All his allies in court have been removed by Us one by one — he’s eager to return and rebuild his network. We should give him the opportunity.”

“Besides… the foreign envoys seeking audience have been arriving in increasing numbers lately. That sort of thing is better handled by Xu Ji. He is, after all, Da Ning’s Chancellor.”

Li Chi paced the room as he spoke. “Oh, and —”

He looked to Master Yan. “Gao Zhen has sent Us a confidential report.”

Master Yan’s eyes sharpened.

Gao Zhen, too, was a piece on His Majesty’s board — placed specifically for Xu Ji to see. Li Chi had originally planned to give Gao Zhen a higher post, but deliberately held back on the promotion to leave Xu Ji a door. So Gao Zhen remains a Third Rank official.

By military merit, Third Rank is clearly too low for Gao Zhen, who has never lagged behind in any campaign north or south.

The moment Li Chi mentioned a confidential report from Gao Zhen, Master Yan guessed it concerned Xu Ji as well.

“Xu Ji did indeed send someone to meet with Gao Zhen,” Li Chi said. “Nothing of substance was discussed yet, but Gao Zhen reports that Xu Ji’s emissary was extremely flattering — clearly working to build goodwill.”

Master Yan nodded. “Xu Ji is laying groundwork for years from now. He won’t raise anything substantial with Gao Zhen anytime soon — just win him over gradually, gifts of silver and beautiful women…”

He looked at Li Chi. Li Chi smiled. “We’ve already written to Gao Zhen and told him to accept everything.”

“Is Your Majesty also planning to recall Gao Zhen from the Southern Frontier in a year or two?”

Li Chi nodded.

He walked to the window and looked out. In the distance, Gao Xining and Xiahou Yuli were walking this way, one on each side of Li Tuotuo, each holding one of his hands.

Li Chi murmured, almost to himself, “We must lay the foundation properly for them. Even if it makes Us seem ruthless — the foundation must be solid.”

Master Yan drew a long breath. He understood His Majesty’s mind, of course — he was always the one who understood it best.

Back in their days at the academy, Master Yan had once asked young Li Chi, barely into his teens: “You told the Dean that practicing martial arts is harder than studying and more useful. Do you truly believe that?”

“I do,” Li Chi had said. “In the world as it is now, martial arts is more useful — at the very least, it improves your chances of staying alive. But that won’t always be the case.”

He had lifted his head, those beautiful eyes bright with light.

“If one day every child in the land could study in an academy like this one — wouldn’t reading be more useful then?”

What His Majesty is doing now — ensuring that every child in the land has books to read — is itself part of that very vision.

—