When Li Chi heard Han Huamei utter those two words — *agreed* — a subtle shift came over his expression.

He smiled at Han Huamei and said: “Your establishment truly has remarkable resources.”

Upon hearing this, Han Huamei suddenly caught himself — producing such an enormous sum of money so readily did indeed seem somewhat conspicuous.

Yet — first of all, these pieces had every possibility of being genuine originals from seven successive generations of his lineage. If that were the case, no amount of money could adequately measure their worth.

And secondly, he was not particularly worried about the implications of producing over one hundred thousand taels of silver.

Yunbao Zhai could be called the preeminent establishment in Yuzhou City’s calligraphy and painting trade — but its operations extended far beyond calligraphy and painting.

Of the thirty-odd masters at Yunbao Zhai, nearly half were responsible for authenticating other types of objects entirely.

All manner of rare and precious items could be brought to Yunbao Zhai for authentication, and that verdict would carry equal authority.

For instance — suppose you had an item you wished to sell, claiming it dated to the era of the Warring States, but the buyer had looked it over and declared it to be from the late Zhou dynasty.

Both parties were at an impasse — what was to be done? In all of Yuzhou City, the one place that both buyer and seller would accept without question was Yunbao Zhai.

The profits in this business were extraordinary, and ordinary people had no appreciation of the scale.

Take the same item — if it dated to the late Zhou, it might be worth ten thousand taels. If it dated to the Warring States period, it would fetch a minimum of a hundred thousand taels.

The difference was that stark. And Yunbao Zhai held the authority to determine the answer — which meant, effectively, that what Yunbao Zhai declared to be worth ten thousand taels was worth ten thousand taels, and what Yunbao Zhai declared to be worth a hundred thousand taels was worth a hundred thousand taels.

But whether it was ten thousand taels or a hundred thousand taels, Yunbao Zhai collected a ten-percent authentication fee.

So naturally, the more expensive the better — the more expensive, the greater Yunbao Zhai’s earnings.

Now suppose you were a seller whose item, at fair market value, was worth only about ten thousand taels.

But you found your way to one of Yunbao Zhai’s authentication masters through a private arrangement, and promised him: if it sells for a hundred thousand taels, I will give you fifty thousand taels — not the standard ten-percent fee, but fifty thousand taels outright.

What do you suppose the odds were that the authentication master would abandon his professional ethics?

And Yunbao Zhai also purchased such treasures directly in Yuzhou City. Without substantial financial resources, how could they afford to do so?

This was, in fact, a rather clever arrangement the Jishi Bureau had made at the time — using Yunbao Zhai to launder their assets.

Of course, this was an entirely separate matter from how Yunbao Zhai conducted its authentication work.

To illustrate: take Yanbei Cheng, the Jishi Bureau’s chief operative in Yuzhou. If he wished to transfer assets the Jishi Bureau had acquired into his own personal holdings, how would he go about it?

Well, suppose that one day, by extraordinary luck, Yanbei Cheng encountered a ragged, disheveled beggar on the street.

He noticed that the beggar’s begging bowl looked rather interesting — and on a whim, thinking he might as well try his luck, he paid five taels of silver to buy it.

The beggar was overjoyed to sell a battered bowl for five taels.

Yanbei Cheng then brought the bowl to Yunbao Zhai and asked one of its masters to take a look. The master examined it and immediately registered profound shock — his expression one of absolute disbelief.

He seemed reluctant to render judgment alone, and at once summoned the other authentication masters to examine it together.

At this point, several senior masters of great prestige and authority gathered around the bowl with grave expressions on their faces, then leaned together to confer in hushed whispers — periodically glancing between the bowl and Yanbei Cheng as they spoke.

At last, after deliberation, they reached their verdict: this bowl was a relic of the mythological age of antiquity. Its value was beyond calculation.

Yanbei Cheng was, of course, overjoyed — and casually mentioned that he would be interested to know whether Yunbao Zhai wished to purchase it.

Yunbao Zhai certainly did — what establishment in its right mind would turn away such a treasure?

But the masters conferred again in hushed whispers for a moment, then expressed, with pained and regretful faces, that there was nothing to be done.

Why? Because Yunbao Zhai’s financial resources were insufficient — they simply could not afford to purchase it.

At this point, Yanbei Cheng appeared somewhat crestfallen — whereupon the people at Yunbao Zhai offered him a suggestion.

This item was priceless; Yunbao Zhai could not afford it — but Yunbao Zhai could act as intermediary, reaching out to wealthy merchants to come take a look.

Approximately one day later, a wealthy merchant of considerable standing in Yuzhou City arrived. After listening carefully to the introduction provided by the senior masters at Yunbao Zhai, he retained a handful of words in his mind.

This thing was a peerless treasure passed down through the ages — a divine artifact.

And so he cautiously ventured to ask whether he might have it for five hundred thousand taels.

Yanbei Cheng said that five hundred thousand taels was of course out of the question — for a priceless divine artifact passed down through the ages, selling it for five hundred thousand taels would be a tremendous loss.

And so, through Yunbao Zhai’s mediation, after a round of back-and-forth negotiation, both parties agreed upon a final price of eight hundred thousand taels.

The divine artifact went to the wealthy merchant. Yunbao Zhai collected its ten-percent authentication fee — eight hundred thousand taels at ten percent, that being eighty thousand taels.

Yanbei Cheng, who walked away with seven hundred and twenty thousand taels, was naturally also very pleased — the bowl had cost him only five taels.

Not long afterward, this merchant received special treatment from the Jishi Bureau, and his business expanded dramatically, eventually monopolizing an entire industry — all while being completely immune from government investigation.

Not long after that, Yanbei Cheng turned the bowl back over in his hands as it made its way back to him, and remarked appreciatively to the subordinate who had posed as the beggar: well done.

So what, precisely, was the cause-and-effect chain behind all of this?

This account, it must be noted, is purely for illustrative purposes, and the author solemnly declares it bears no relation to Yanbei Cheng, bears no relation to Yunbao Zhai, and whether it bears any relation to that wealthy merchant and that subordinate shall remain to be seen.

Most people with any exposure to this sort of establishment understood roughly how places like Yunbao Zhai turned a profit.

So for a place like Yunbao Zhai to produce over a hundred thousand taels of silver was not, in truth, a particularly jaw-dropping thing.

Li Chi left Yunbao Zhai carrying several large chests filled to the brim with gold.

Escorted by Yunbao Zhai’s staff back to his inn, he would of course be kept under close surveillance by Yunbao Zhai’s people.

As for whether Yunbao Zhai’s people might kill him to silence him over gold worth over a hundred thousand taels — well, who could say.

At the inn.

Li Chi sat atop the large chests, grinning to himself like a fool, while Xiahou Yili stood there glaring at him.

Glaring at him — and it was not even about those ten characters.

This fellow was still very much in an untouched state of affairs, and yet his head was full of improper thoughts. Tell me — was that infuriating or not?

In truth, this was an ailment suffered by a significant portion of young men in that era — no courage whatsoever, holding on to proof of their unopened original condition, yet with a head full of unruly thoughts. They could speak about it endlessly and fluently — whether it was thirty-six variations or seventy-two, there was nothing they didn’t know about in theory. But when it came to actually doing anything, the opening move was about the only thing that looked remotely passable — and the opening move was functionally equivalent to the final move as well.

Whether it was fast or slow was beside the point — the real question was whether that one moment had any force behind it.

Li Chi smiled at Xiahou Yili and said: “You can go rest. Always staring with those large eyes of yours — don’t they get tired?”

Xiahou Yili said: “Give me a reasonable explanation for why you brought me along.”

Li Chi replied: “Probably because you have a genuinely low profile.”

Xiahou Yili: “Why you little—”

She immediately began looking around for something useful within reach.

Xiahou Yili’s temperament was not to be underestimated — this was a woman who had once charged alone into Prince Yu’s residence for the sake of revenge.

It was simply that over the past several years she had been quietly keeping her mother company, leaving very few opportunities for her to truly act.

Li Chi quickly said: “Don’t get angry — let’s go over the next steps in detail, shall we?”

Xiahou Yili shot Li Chi one more glare, but did in fact sit down quietly across from him.

Li Chi looked at her, and without quite thinking, said: “You look quite good in men’s clothing.”

Xiahou Yili’s eyes snapped wide open, and both small fists clenched tight.

Li Chi genuinely did not consider this remark to be teasing — he had simply said it offhandedly to ease the awkwardness.

But naturally, this made everything considerably more awkward than before.

After a long silence, Xiahou Yili let out a slow, long breath. Her clenched fists gradually relaxed.

She looked at Li Chi and said: “Talk about the plan.”

Li Chi quickly gave a sound of agreement and said: “We’ve now established with reasonable certainty that Han Huamei is obsessed with anything related to Master Songming — to the point of near-fanaticism. So as long as we keep playing the Songming card, we can keep extracting silver from Han Huamei.”

Xiahou Yili asked: “Why not simply send the Tingwei soldiers to raid Yunbao Zhai outright? Why go to all this trouble? Do you have some other intention?”

Li Chi smiled and said: “A place like Yunbao Zhai might have around two hundred thousand taels of actual cash on hand — I would consider that its limit.”

He patted the large chest beneath him: “But after we captured Yanbei Cheng in Yuzhou, he — being the cautious and careful man that he is, and trying to protect himself — cut off most of his contact with Yunbao Zhai.”

“So even Yanbei Cheng doesn’t have a very clear picture of exactly how much silver Yunbao Zhai is actually holding, or where it’s hidden. People all have private motivations.”

Xiahou Yili: “And what does private motivations have to do with personal longing? Who does Yanbei Cheng long for? Who do *you*… long for?”

Li Chi: “Private motivations — I phrased it poorly and caused a misunderstanding.”

Xiahou Yili’s face flushed slightly red, and she instinctively turned to look elsewhere.

This oblivious Li Chi — if he had been a true scoundrel, this would have been the moment to say to Xiahou Yili: since a certain someone left Jizhou and went to Youzhou, I have, in truth, missed them just a little.

Had he said those words, given Xiahou Yili’s current level of defenses, they would already have been shattered.

If scoundrels were to be divided into two kinds — one might be called the fickle-hearted scoundrel, and the other the devoted scoundrel.

Li Chi was the latter — a man whose own exceptional qualities had inadvertently triggered the passive ability to cause heartbreak without trying.

Of course, Li Chi never thought about such nonsensical things. He only ever wanted to take care of two matters: money and Gao Xining.

Li Chi continued his explanation: “There is a person inside Yunbao Zhai whose rank and standing are only slightly below Yanbei Cheng’s — this follows Liu Chongxin’s usual pattern of operation.”

“He arranged for Yanbei Cheng to come to Yuzhou City to keep watch over the Cao Family, but he was also worried that Yanbei Cheng himself might be bought over by the Cao Family — so he arranged for a very secretive individual to work inside Yunbao Zhai. Who this person is, even Yanbei Cheng doesn’t know.”

“So Yanbei Cheng is certain that most of the wealth inside Yunbao Zhai has actually been transferred and concealed by this mysterious figure.”

Li Chi looked at Xiahou Yili and said: “That is the ‘other intention’ you asked about. If we don’t flush this mysterious person out, he will remain a threat indefinitely. He is surely hiding very deep — deeper than Yanbei Cheng.”

“To draw him out, money is an excellent lure. If I were now to produce another piece connected to Master Songming — something of even greater value than those calligraphy scrolls — but at a point when Han Huamei can no longer produce enough silver from within Yunbao Zhai…”

Xiahou Yili’s eyes lit up: “Han Huamei would find a way to contact that hidden mysterious figure and request that he transfer some of the concealed funds.”

Li Chi nodded: “If all goes smoothly, we can flush out that mysterious figure — and draw out all the silver as well.”

Xiahou Yili asked Li Chi curiously: “But what do you still have that could send Han Huamei into an even deeper obsession than those scrolls?”

Li Chi walked over to the table, pulled open a drawer, and retrieved a wooden box from inside.

This inn had been arranged by him in advance — and the contents of the drawer had also been placed there beforehand, per his instructions.

He turned back to look at Xiahou Yili: “You may already know — I have one of Master Songming’s personal seals. The only seal passed down through the ages, and it is right here.”

Xiahou Yili’s expression shifted slightly: “That bait is far too tempting. If something unexpected were to happen…”

Li Chi shook his head: “Nothing unexpected will happen. And even if something were to, the loss in value would still be well within what I can control.”

He passed the box to Xiahou Yili.

Xiahou Yili opened it and looked inside — and her eyes narrowed to slits.

The seal was right there in the box. Identical to one another. About thirty of them, give or take.

Li Chi shrugged: “People get bored sometimes.”

When other people got bored, they might sit and stare blankly, or let their minds wander. When Li Chi got bored, he apparently thought: might as well do something to make some money.

—