Approaching the capital city in nearly May, the weather gradually grew hotter. Secretary Hao had lived comfortably these past few years, and his figure had inevitably become somewhat portly. Afraid of the heat during the day, he rarely ventured out of the cabin. Liu Heita was quite the opposite—finding the cabin bottom stuffy, he even slept on deck, making his bed on the ship’s planks. Gu Pingyuan, however, spent his entire days at the bow, chatting with the boatmen and inquiring about the customs and local conditions along the banks.

This was Gu Pingyuan’s first time traveling the Grand Canal. His previous trip to the capital for the imperial examinations had been by land route. This time, with “Liu Lang returning again,” thinking of his previous encounters, he couldn’t help but feel emotional, though more than that, he harbored ambitious aspirations.

“Hei Ta, look,” he pointed to the densely populated area ahead. “That’s Tongzhou Wharf up front—it’s the vital water and land junction of the capital. Reaching Tongzhou means reaching the capital.”

“How far is Tongzhou from the Forbidden City where the Emperor lives?”

Gu Pingyuan laughed: “Heh heh, quite far—probably several dozen li.”

“The capital is so vast!” Liu Heita was tongue-tied with amazement.

Just as they were talking, Secretary Hao emerged after changing into his official robes. To facilitate dealings with government officials, he had purchased a ninth-rank secretary position two years ago. However, he rarely wore this official uniform, and having gained considerable weight these past two years, it looked somewhat comical stretched over his body.

“Hey, truly ‘being an official means no comfort, comfort means not being an official,'” Secretary Hao complained, twisting left and right uncomfortably.

“When holding office, one must follow protocol. Brother Hao, just bear with it,” Gu Pingyuan said, suppressing his laughter.

The current Granary Minister was Sheng Fu, a typical Bannerman’s spoiled son who excelled at eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling but didn’t concern himself with official business, leaving everything to his clerks while only caring about dividing the profits.

This made things easier. When delivering the grain transport, as long as the officials didn’t create new complications, the clerks’ collection fees had become standard practice. The commissions for the complete set of procedures plus additional gratuities—all were public money anyway. Secretary Hao brought silver, so naturally everything went smoothly.

Gu Pingyuan’s side had some trouble, however, because Tongzhou’s major wharves all had anti-smuggling checkpoints. If they discovered grain transport ships carrying tea, they would officially confiscate it and impose fines. Gu Pingyuan knew that despite the canal’s vast breadth, one couldn’t pass without plugging this “dog hole.” So when the inspection guards boarded the ship, he spotted the one in charge and without a word stuffed him with a large red envelope. Indeed, “when fire reaches the pig’s head, it becomes tender; when money reaches public affairs, they get done.” The originally stern face immediately became wreathed in smiles.

“Brother, did you see? These days, as long as you have silver, everything can be arranged,” Secretary Hao said after completing the grain delivery. Now free of burden, he had changed back into civilian clothes and was leisurely fanning himself, looking quite carefree.

“That’s where the difficulty lies,” Gu Pingyuan sighed. “If this Ten Thousand Tea Conference is also a place where silver does the talking, I’m at a loss. Though I brought twenty thousand taels, compared to the various merchant guilds, especially the capital merchants, it’s merely a drop in the bucket.”

“Let’s take it step by step. Since we’ve come this far, even if things don’t go well, we can consider it sightseeing in the capital. But there’s one thing—about that incident from years past, do you plan to get to the bottom of it this time in the capital?”

At this mention, Gu Pingyuan immediately fell silent. He had been thinking about this throughout the journey—if the capital merchants were connected to Zhang Guangfa’s frame-up from years ago, arriving in the capital would be the perfect opportunity to investigate and understand, rather than remain in the dark his entire life. But with the capital now close at hand, he hesitated.

“Forget it.” After long contemplation, Gu Pingyuan shook his head. “One cannot always dwell on past grievances. I’ve decided to put that matter behind me—the road ahead is still long.”

“Well done!” Liu Heita interjected from the side. “Elder Brother Gu, I admire men like you—able to take up and let go, a true man.”

“Mm.” Secretary Hao also nodded. “However, that past incident may not have been without cause. On this return to the capital, be careful in all matters.”

“Inner nine, outer seven, imperial city four”—in Beijing at the Son of Heaven’s feet, the outer city, inner city, and Forbidden City together had twenty gates total. Coming from Tongzhou to enter the outer city, one could take Guangqu Gate or Yongding Gate. Following Secretary Hao’s suggestion, Gu Pingyuan’s group took Yongding Gate, because the route from this gate to Chongwen Gate in the inner city had many warehouses, convenient for storing goods.

The first major warehouse outside Yongding Gate was called “Yongding,” situated by the post road, most convenient for loading and unloading. Gu Pingyuan took one look and was satisfied, storing all the tea in this warehouse.

They stored goods in the outer city but lodged in the inner city. Originally, Secretary Hao suggested staying at the Huizhou Merchants’ Guild Hall outside Liulichang. Gu Pingyuan knew that with his current “reputation,” he would likely not be easily accepted by the guild hall. Though Secretary Hao could use his “official business” status to demand accommodation, it would probably put the stewards there in a difficult position.

Secretary Hao greatly praised Gu Pingyuan’s considerate nature and then suggested another place—the “Kelai Sheng” inn not far from Qianmen Street. He led Gu Pingyuan and the others to lodge there.

Just as they arrived at the inn, the sharp-eyed staff immediately recognized Secretary Hao from afar and came bowing and scraping to greet them.

“Oh, Master Hao, how have you been? It’s been some time since you’ve graced our humble establishment with your business.”

Secretary Hao immediately felt his face gain dignity, half-laughing and half-scolding: “Nonsense! Don’t I have a home? Must I always stay at your inn? Besides, haven’t I come now? This is Master Gu, Master Liu, and several accompanying staff.”

The capital’s staff were all selected from the shrewdest people. They immediately saw that Gu Pingyuan was the group’s leader and especially fawned over him, helping with luggage, leading horses, and arranging superior rooms inside.

Just as they were busy, suddenly they heard great commotion from next door—someone cursing, someone crying, and someone smashing things.

Gu Pingyuan had one foot already inside the inn when he heard the noise. He couldn’t help but stop and look several times—and once he looked, he was transfixed.

He saw that next door was a large pawnshop. Several fierce-looking thugs were driving people out. Most strangely, those being driven out seemed to be the pawnshop’s own people—appraisers and clerks alike, each carrying bundles and luggage, their faces pale and distressed, clearly harboring anger they dared not express.

These people were all pushed and shoved out, but once outside the pawnshop, they didn’t turn back. Several stood stunned, staring at the “Taixing Pawnshop” plaque above the main door for a long time. Others shed tears, especially an elderly man of about eighty with a face full of wrinkles, hunched over, his eyes full of unwillingness and indignation, staring fixedly at the stone steps.

A young clerk who had walked a few steps suddenly seemed to remember something and hurriedly returned to enter the pawnshop, but was blocked by someone who refused to let him in.

“My mother made me a cotton jacket that I washed yesterday—it’s still drying in the back courtyard. Let me go get it,” the young clerk said urgently, trying to force his way in.

“Go to hell!” The thug’s face was all horizontal flesh, showing no courtesy. A huge slap sent the young clerk spinning twice in place, then a kick sent him tumbling into the street.

By now, Gu Pingyuan’s group wasn’t the only one watching. Qianmen Street was always bustling—never mind such incidents, even cats and dogs fighting could draw three layers of onlookers inside and out. A large crowd had already gathered.

Strangely, when the young clerk was beaten, no one condemned it or even spoke up. Instead, their eyes showed fear and wariness.

Liu Heita couldn’t stand it anymore. Secretary Hao failed to hold him back as he strode out, helped up the young clerk, and shouted: “What’s this? Are there bandits in Beijing? What gives you the right to beat people?”

The thug crossed his arms, completely unconcerned: “Beat him, so what? What’s the big deal? What onion are you supposed to be, daring to stick your nose out and make noise? Believe it or not, I’ll beat you too!”

Liu Heita’s explosive temper couldn’t tolerate this. His bull-eyes glared as he reached for his nine-section whip at his waist. Gu Pingyuan pressed his hand down and stepped forward with a stern face: “Reason with reason. How can you randomly beat people at the Son of Heaven’s feet? Aren’t you afraid of the Shuntian Prefecture and the Patrol Censors?”

The thug looked him up and down: “You know quite a bit about government offices. Heh heh, let me tell you another one—the Nine Cities’ Military Commissioner also handles such matters. Go ahead and report to any of those you mentioned, go on! If you don’t go, you’re my son!”

“I’ll beat you up!” Liu Heita clenched his fist, about to charge forward. Several “Kelai Sheng” staff quickly came over to restrain him.

“Master Liu, gentlemen, please come inside first.”

Between pulling and dragging, with Secretary Hao also helping to persuade, they finally convinced Liu Heita to sit down in the inn’s main hall, also helping the young clerk inside.

The inn’s head manager personally came over to attend to them. Gu Pingyuan’s anger hadn’t subsided: “The capital is the nation’s exemplary place. How can the common people seem so accustomed to such incidents?”

The head manager smiled apologetically: “Master Gu, you’re traveling away from home and conducting business—seek profit, not anger. Why bother with such idle matters?”

“Whether to interfere is another matter,” Gu Pingyuan asked the young clerk. “I’d like to ask clearly—what’s the background of those people, and why are they driving people out of their own business?”

The young clerk was shocked, frightened, and heartbroken, crying so hard he was choked up and couldn’t speak. The head manager comforted him a few times, instructed the counter to give him half a string of copper coins, and through much coaxing persuaded the young clerk to leave. He returned, looked around to ensure no one was paying attention, then sighed and sat down.

“Master Gu, if you want to ask about this matter, no one knows it clearer than I do. Even the head appraiser and second appraiser who were just driven out are probably still confused about what happened.”

This statement stunned everyone. The parties involved weren’t clear about their own affairs, yet the neighboring manager understood everything—how could this be?

“Sigh, by rights I shouldn’t talk too much. As the saying goes, ‘much talk brings disaster.’ We inn-keepers, welcoming guests coming and going, most taboo such things. But these past days, hearing someone cry next door every day—it made my heart heavy. Today the crying finally ended, and if I don’t find someone to talk to about this matter, keeping it inside might suffocate me to death!” The manager opened up.

Originally, the pawnshop next door had conducted a transaction three months ago—someone had come to consign goods. Consignment was one of the pawnshop’s main businesses, taking a commission of ten to fifteen percent.

The person consigning goods had lodged at “Kelai Sheng.” He wasn’t a Beijing local, claiming to be a purchased official of tongzhi rank from Zhejiang, who had come to the capital to “report for duty” at the Ministry of Personnel, hoping to secure a lucrative position in the capital. Unexpectedly, not understanding the protocols, he had brought insufficient silver and had to consign an inherited chest of calligraphy and paintings to the pawnshop for sale.

This man stayed for several months, daily strutting about with full official airs, servants following before and behind. The pawnshop people had long grown familiar with him, so when he suddenly came to consign goods, they naturally fawned over him.

The pawnshop’s head appraiser, Yang Mingxuan, was over eighty years old and had seen countless antiques. His eye was three points sharper than the managers of Rongbaozhai in Liulichang. He personally examined the contents—everything in the chest was genuine, but apart from a small piece by Dong Qichang, the rest, though authentic, weren’t masterworks by famous artists. Most were by a painter named Jiao Bingzhen from the Kangxi period. He estimated they were worth about eight thousand taels of silver.

But the client demanded eighty thousand taels and wouldn’t break up the lot or negotiate. The head appraiser knew this price wouldn’t sell, but to avoid offending the client, he temporarily kept them on display as decoration. At worst, he’d display them for a few months then return them.

For over a month, no one inquired. The client asked several times, then became somewhat discouraged and voluntarily lowered the price to sixty thousand. On the third day after the price reduction, an antique dealer from northern Shaanxi came to browse the pawnshop. He immediately noticed the small piece by Dong Qichang, and when he saw Jiao Bingzhen’s set of calligraphy and paintings, his eyes lit up even more. He said there was a painting collector, a renowned scholar, who specialized in collecting this painter’s authentic works and would pay top price. Within days, he indeed brought a gentleman with the full bearing of a scholarly connoisseur who immediately offered fifty thousand taels of silver.

Head appraiser Yang knew he’d encountered a sucker and wouldn’t easily let the opportunity pass. He said these calligraphy and paintings were consigned goods, and the client wanted eighty thousand taels of silver. Later, the scholar came several more times, bargaining back and forth until they settled on sixty-five thousand taels.

All the appraisers were overjoyed. Beyond the commission, the extra five thousand taels would all belong to them—the year-end dividend would certainly be substantial.

The scholar frankly stated he didn’t have enough silver on hand and needed to find friends to pool resources. He paid one thousand taels as a deposit and required the pawnshop to write a receipt stating that if he didn’t come to collect the goods within ten days, the deposit would belong to the shop. But if they sold to others before the ten days were up, they would have to compensate him sixty-five thousand taels. The head appraiser felt this arrangement was foolproof and agreed.

After several more days, one evening when the shop had already closed, the Zhejiang candidate official came again. Upon arrival, he was in a great rush, saying family had remitted money, the Ministry of Personnel had been properly arranged, but he wouldn’t serve in Beijing—instead, he was returning to Zhejiang to take a lucrative salt administration position. Therefore, he wanted to retrieve the chest of calligraphy and paintings.

The pawnshop people naturally tried to persuade him to wait a bit longer, since the items were already sold and they could receive the silver in a few days. But the candidate official flew into a rage, cursing: “Damn fools! Do you understand official matters? If I’m late by a few days, someone else will snatch the position—it’s worth over two hundred thousand per year in income! Can you compensate me?”

Despite much pleading, he insisted on retrieving the items or getting silver. Moreover, being urgent to leave, he lowered the price again—fifty-five thousand taels and he’d sell the chest of calligraphy and paintings. The difference of ten thousand taels, plus commission—calculating inside and out, this profit was substantial. After the appraisers consulted, head appraiser Yang made the decision to simply advance the silver from the shop’s public funds. When the scholar came to collect the goods, they would profit over ten thousand taels.

Hearing this, Gu Pingyuan was already shaking his head continuously and interjected: “No need to ask—that scholar naturally vanished like a yellow crane, never to return.”

The inn manager sighed: “Though they held the one thousand taels deposit plus the eight-thousand-tael chest of calligraphy and paintings, unfortunately they had lost over forty thousand taels of silver. When the matter spread, it also ruined the pawnshop’s reputation. How could the pawnshop owner let this pass? Not only did he insist that the appraisers and clerks jointly compensate, but he dismissed them all. The thugs you saw just now were sent by the pawnshop owner to evict people. When owners evict errant employees, naturally no one dares interfere.”

Only now did Gu Pingyuan understand. Thinking it over, what the owner did wasn’t wrong—he just shouldn’t have allowed the violent beating.

“The capital is a place where dragons and snakes mingle. Who knows who devised such a vicious swindle…” Secretary Hao, having handled criminal law for so long and having seen all kinds of cases, was now also stunned by what he heard.

“It’s not a swindle,” Gu Pingyuan said thoughtfully, motionless while others showed shock or indignation.

Liu Heita’s eyebrows bristled: “This isn’t called fraud? They’ve ruined people!”

“That’s still not fraud.” Gu Pingyuan slowly shook his head. “Brother Hao, so-called fraud can naturally be reported to officials for arrest according to the Great Qing Legal Code, correct?”

“Yes,” Secretary Hao replied, not understanding his meaning.

“Then, if we say this was fraud, please tell me—whom should the pawnshop sue?”

Gu Pingyuan thought through the entire incident from beginning to end and now understood completely.

“Sue that candidate official,” Secretary Hao said.

“He asked the pawnshop to help consign goods, paid commission, and it was the pawnshop that willingly kept the items and advanced payment. What’s wrong with that?”

Liu Heita interjected: “Then—then arrest that scholar.”

“That’s even more ridiculous. He came to buy goods, paid a deposit, but when short of silver, was willing to forfeit the deposit money. Speaking of it, he suffered the loss—on what grounds would you arrest him?”

“This…” Everyone present looked at each other, realizing that after going in circles, there was truly no one to sue.

“So this isn’t fraud—it’s business! They used the pawnshop people’s greed to conduct a transaction. Though it’s an evil path, from a business perspective, you really can’t find fault with it.”

“This is also called business?” Liu Heita shook his big head in disbelief.

Gu Pingyuan smiled faintly: “This is the capital. Conducting business here truly requires one hundred and twenty times the caution. Otherwise, one careless moment and you’ll cry without finding a grave to weep over.”

Secretary Hao was also left half-gaping. Only now did he think to ask: “How does one guard against such ‘business’?”

“Very difficult. From the moment they accepted the deposit and wrote the receipt, the pawnshop was destined to suffer losses.”

“What if they didn’t give that ‘candidate official’ silver, only returned the items to him…”

“Then when the time came—no, no need to wait for the deadline—the very next day that scholar would come to collect goods. When you have no goods to deliver, with the receipt there, you’d have to pay him sixty-five thousand taels in hard compensation, an even greater loss than now.”

“What if they took out the receipt made with the scholar, explaining the goods were already sold? Wouldn’t that work?” the head manager also interjected.

“That would naturally work, but don’t forget—there was a ten-thousand-tael difference. The pawnshop was greedy and naturally wouldn’t admit it clearly.”

“Aiya…” Everyone was shaking their heads and sighing when suddenly there was commotion outside. Not knowing what had happened, they all rushed to the shop entrance to look.

At the entrance, the white-haired head appraiser appeared to have a stubborn nature. After brooding with a dark expression for a long time, he suddenly charged forward, intending to bash his head against the pawnshop’s stone platform to commit suicide. Fortunately, two young clerks beside him were quick-eyed and quick-handed, grabbing him. The onlooking crowd, seeing a potential death, became even more loudly clamorous.

Just as the situation was about to become uncontrollable, suddenly from outside the three-layer-deep crowd came shouting voices—someone was parting the crowd to walk inside. Leading were several servants dressed as household staff, followed by a young gentleman. This gentleman was not yet twenty, with a thin face and light lips, sharp eyes, but walked unhurriedly. When he saw the disheveled old appraiser being supported by others, he suddenly quickened his pace as if to approach and greet him, but then stopped, turned back, and delivered a resounding slap to the previously arrogant thug’s face.

Everyone was shocked. The thug, caught off guard, was furious. Beijing ruffians might commonly take a knife wound, but they absolutely couldn’t tolerate face-slapping—it was considered the ultimate humiliation requiring a fight to the death. But strangely, when the thug saw clearly who stood before him, he suddenly deflated like a leaking bellows, opening his mouth but not daring to speak.

“Do you recognize me?” the gentleman who had struck him asked with imposing manner.

“I recognize you,” the thug replied, touching his face with lowered brows and docile eyes.

“Hmph! You bunch of lowly creatures were merely sent by the owners to watch the storeroom and await inventory, yet you dare treat chicken feathers as imperial arrows! All of you, get lost!” The young man’s shrill voice shouted, and in the blink of an eye, the gang of thugs scattered.

“Head appraiser Yang,” the gentleman then turned around, showing twelve parts of respect to the old appraiser. “You must not lower yourself to the level of those bastards. You’re an elderly man—great anger harms the body. You must take care of yourself.”

Head appraiser Yang looked at him, raised his long eyebrows, and replied in an aged, turbid voice that refused to submit to anyone: “Young Master Li, this old fool brought this upon himself. These old bones have long seen through it all. Let the owners dispose of me as they will—send me to the authorities or confiscate my property to compensate, please don’t trouble yourself with worry.”

“It’s not like that,” the gentleman became even more humble, bowing and bending forward, but his voice grew louder so everyone around could hear clearly. “You’ve labored for the pawnshop your entire life. Your achievements are foremost, your hard work greater than heaven itself. How can one mistake in judgment erase all previous contributions? My father has already said that head appraiser Yang is a revered elder whom all capital merchants respect. This silver will be fully compensated by our Li family, having nothing to do with you, and even less to do with the pawnshop’s other appraisers and clerks. Please everyone return to your positions and continue business.”

With light words, he would compensate tens of thousands of taels of silver? The pawnshop people were about to disbelieve when from outside the crowd, five wooden-wheeled carts pushed through one after another. Each cart was neatly and highly stacked with freshly cast silver ingots and bars from the foundry, their surfaces gleaming blue-green, flashing with light. Under the sun, they were truly soul-stirring.

“This is the forty thousand taels of silver our Li family is compensating. Please, head appraiser Yang, count and receive it.”

With large amounts of actual silver displayed before them, this could no longer be doubted. The pawnshop’s appraisers and clerks were overjoyed, wanting to immediately cheer aloud, but seeing the old appraiser’s expressionless, motionless face, they knew this Yang Mingxuan had always refused to submit to the capital’s Li family. Now having suffered such a great setback, with the Li family providing aid in the snow, this stubborn old man might very well not appreciate the gesture, preferring to face lawsuits and property confiscation. Everyone couldn’t help but look at each other uncertainly.

Seeing the situation about to become tense, the gentleman pondered briefly, then suddenly dropped to one knee, his body slightly turned aside: “Head appraiser, in terms of seniority and age, you’re of my grandfather’s generation. These people just now offended you, and presumably your anger hasn’t subsided. This junior kneels behind you to enter the pawnshop, taking this as an apology to you on my father’s behalf. We capital merchants are all family—whether beating or scolding, it’s up to you, but don’t let outsiders see and laugh at us.”

At these words, everyone was moved. Here was the eldest son of the capital’s Li family, possessing tens of millions in assets, yet unexpectedly showing no pride or arrogance, completely without airs. The crowd immediately erupted in unanimous praise.

“This Young Master Li recently observed mourning for a childless manager—truly righteous!” Those who knew him and those who didn’t all nodded appreciatively, giving thumbs up.

With such heart and such actions, head appraiser Yang couldn’t help but give face. He sighed and nodded: “This old fool truly doesn’t dare accept such honor.”

Young Master Li took this opportunity to offer support, and amid everyone’s thunderous cheers, he helped the old appraiser enter shoulder to shoulder.

“Hey, this Young Master Li is truly a kindhearted person,” Liu Heita praised endlessly after returning to the inn. “Who would have thought there were such people among the wealthy—truly like, like that Timely Rain Song Gongming from Water Margin.”

“Indeed, rare, so rare!” Secretary Hao also kept saying from the side. “Eh, younger brother Gu, why do you look so troubled?” He turned to see Gu Pingyuan and was immediately startled—Gu Pingyuan’s expression was strange, as if his soul had left his body.

Gu Pingyuan had previously thought that arriving in the capital, he might encounter Li Qin, but he hadn’t expected it would be under such circumstances. Could this pampered young master have truly changed his nature? Based on Gu Pingyuan’s understanding of Li Qin, he wouldn’t believe even if beaten to death that he would act this way. Yet the facts were right before his eyes. Hearing everyone’s praise for Li Qin, Gu Pingyuan couldn’t help but smile bitterly to himself—knowing something was wrong but unable to see through what tricks lay within.

Another person with an equally strange expression was the inn’s head manager. He too felt deeply uncomfortable hearing all this. After restraining himself repeatedly, he finally couldn’t hold back. Seeing no one paying attention, he muttered quietly: “This is like a weasel paying New Year respects to chickens—no good intentions!”

Others didn’t notice, but Gu Pingyuan heard it immediately. “Manager, what do you mean by that?”

“Nothing, nothing at all…” the manager hastily waved his hands.

“No, you’re speaking in riddles.” Gu Pingyuan would let other matters pass, but this he had to pursue. After several rounds of questioning, the head manager finally spoke up. His first sentence left everyone dumbfounded.

“Do you think those two swindlers came on their own? Wrong! The ones who sent those two swindlers were precisely the capital’s Li family.”

Everyone was greatly shocked. Secretary Hao was first surprised, then laughed: “This must be a misunderstanding. His Li family are also owners of the pawnshop—cheating themselves, then coming to remedy the matter? Are they playing games out of daytime boredom?”

Seeing they didn’t believe him, the head manager became somewhat anxious and lowered his voice: “Master Hao, you’re an old customer, so I won’t hide anything from you. That Zhejiang ‘candidate official’ originally lodged at my establishment. Late at night when all was quiet, he discussed the reward money after success with his servants. I heard everything clearly through the door—not a word wrong. It was exactly that Young Master Li who sent him to execute this scheme. As for why he came to remedy things just now, I can’t fathom that either. I speak only what I know, without half a false word. Think about it—the Li family has such power that even Beijing’s desperate ruffians don’t dare make a sound after being beaten. How would a small businessman like me dare fabricate stories about them?”

“Even if it’s true, don’t speak of it anymore!” Before everyone could think it through, Gu Pingyuan had already spoken. The moment the head manager finished, he believed it completely. Without question, Li Qin certainly had other schemes, but since it didn’t concern his own family, there was no need to wade into these muddy waters. “Manager, since you know the Li family’s power is great, you absolutely must not speak these words again. We’re outsiders—having heard and leaving is fine, but if Beijing people heard and told the Li family, I’m afraid disaster would follow swiftly.”

“Yes, yes.” The head manager understood this principle and was now even more startled with fear. He knew Gu Pingyuan’s words served both as reminder and assurance that nothing would leak from his own mouth. He smiled gratefully at Gu Pingyuan. “Tonight I’ll add several good dishes—a welcome feast for you gentlemen.”

After the head manager left, Liu Heita was still scratching his big head, asking in confusion: “Building temples then tearing down Buddhas—what the devil is this Young Master Li up to?”

“Brother Hei Ta, don’t mention this matter again,” Gu Pingyuan warned seriously.

“I’m not afraid of any Li family. Bullying people like this—it’s outrageous! Tomorrow when I see that old appraiser, I’ll definitely expose that boy’s schemes!”

“Absolutely not. You say ‘not afraid’ easily enough, but money can move gods—how can one not fear?” Gu Pingyuan softened his tone. “Don’t think I’m joking. During the Tang Dynasty, there was a prime minister surnamed Zhang who wanted to overturn a wrongful conviction, ordering the jailers to resolve it within ten days. Unexpectedly, the next day on his desk appeared thirty thousand strings of cash and a note requesting he not interfere with the case. Prime Minister Zhang was enraged and demanded resolution within five days. The next day, it increased to fifty thousand strings. Prime Minister Zhang became even angrier and demanded resolution the next day. The money then increased to one hundred thousand strings. What do you think he said then?”

“Naturally he’d demand resolution that very day,” Liu Heita replied without thinking.

Secretary Hao shook his head—he also knew this story: “This Prime Minister Zhang sighed deeply and said, ‘One hundred thousand strings can move the gods—nothing cannot be reversed. I fear disaster will befall me, so I must accept.’ He then took the money and never inquired about that wrongful case again. This prime minister was actually a good official, but as he said, one hundred thousand strings—even if it couldn’t buy him, it could buy those more powerful than him. When that time came, even his own life wouldn’t be safe, never mind the case.”

The two men working in tandem left Liu Heita staring wide-eyed. Gu Pingyuan continued: “The Li family has led the capital merchants for decades, called ‘Li Half-City.’ Their wealth and power are truly like high mountains to look up to. Even a strong dragon doesn’t suppress the local snake, let alone us—we’re merely outsiders here to do business. Ramming one’s head against a mountain is foolish bravery—we cannot do such things.”

When evening came and lamps were lit, Gu Pingyuan went to Secretary Hao’s room.

Secretary Hao held a volume of The Rustic’s Exposed Words in his hands. Seeing him enter, he set the book aside: “I guessed you’d come find me. Seeing the capital’s Li family, did you think of your old case again?”

Gu Pingyuan shook his head: “I’ve said before—I’ve long put that matter behind me.”

“Then I guess you’re worried that seeing how sinister and vicious the capital merchants are, you’ll suffer losses if you compete with them for profit, right?”

“I do have such thoughts.” Gu Pingyuan’s tone shifted. “But I have another concern—the capital merchants are a renowned brand. Never mind other things, the silver notes of the ‘Four Great Heng’ banks can circulate nationwide precisely because of capital merchant credibility. Now even the Li family, called leader of the capital merchants, acts this way. I ask you—who will still respect us merchants?”

“If you ask me, you’re idly worrying about radishes.” Secretary Hao said dismissively. “If you have spare time, you’d do better thinking about how to make ‘Orchid Snow Tea’ shine at the Ten Thousand Tea Conference. They say the capital merchants instigated officials to plan this conference—no profit, no early rising. They probably won’t let other tea merchants easily gain advantages.”

Gu Pingyuan smiled: “Exactly so. I’ve been thinking about this matter throughout the journey. Growing tea is easy, selling tea is hard—this won’t be easy to handle. Tomorrow, Brother Hao, accompany me to walk around and see how other tea merchants prepare to manage things.”

Early the next morning, Gu Pingyuan gave several clerks the day off to wander the streets themselves. He brought Secretary Hao and Liu Heita meandering to West Liulichang’s Back Sun Hutong, where merchant guildhalls from various provinces gathered. The Huizhou Merchants’ Hall, Shanxi Merchants’ Hall, Fujian Merchants’ Hall, as well as the Ningbo-Shaoxing Guild and Dongting Guild trade associations were all located here. The Northern Five Provinces’ bank headquarters was also here. It was said that the first batch of capital silk silver ingots cast daily from the foundries were delivered here, hence it was jokingly called “Ingot Street.”

Gu Pingyuan’s group walked seemingly aimlessly, but their eyes were actually observing the activities at each guildhall, ears perked up to hear if anyone was discussing the Ten Thousand Tea Conference.

From the hutong entrance to its end, the men gained nothing. Gu Pingyuan was disappointed and decided regardless of anything else, he’d first enter a guildhall to inquire. Just as they were walking back, someone approached and cupped his hands in greeting.

Gu Pingyuan hurriedly returned the courtesy. The man immediately asked: “Are you gentlemen tea merchants who’ve come to the capital?”

Gu Pingyuan heard his accent was extremely strange. Looking more carefully, he was actually a foreigner—yellow eyebrows, green eyes, half a head taller than Liu Heita, dressed most peculiarly in a Qing Dynasty long robe and jacket with a melon-skin cap on his head. He only lacked a queue behind.

Though this foreigner could speak Chinese, the men were somewhat nervous, unclear about his background. Gu Pingyuan smiled and cupped his hands in reply: “Correct, but how do you know?”

“Heh heh.” The foreigner also smiled. “I’ve dealt in tea for half a lifetime, sometimes sleeping on tea packages aboard ships for months. When you passed by me just now, I could tell by smell—you must be tea merchants.”

Gu Pingyuan was greatly surprised that this person possessed such skill. After chatting, he learned this man came from the overseas Great Britain island nation, commonly called England. He claimed to originally do business in Ceylon, Luzon, and other places. Admiring Chinese culture, he had come to China some years ago. For convenience, he gave himself the Chinese name “Lin Charlie.”

“I didn’t expect you to be an English merchant—truly traveling ten thousand li by sea route.” Gu Pingyuan much admired this. “China has numerous surnames, called the Hundred Family Names. Why did you specifically choose the character ‘Lin’?”

“Because your Great Qing Dynasty has a Master Lin whom I greatly respect, so I used his surname.”

“Master Lin? Which Master Lin?”

“Lin Zexu!”

Hearing Lin Charlie say this, Gu Pingyuan and Secretary Hao exchanged glances, both very surprised.

Lin Charlie had probably seen such looks often and immediately said: “Tea is a good thing, opium is a bad thing. I’m a merchant, but using opium to trade for tea—I don’t like that. Master Lin burned the opium—he’s a very, very good man.”

All merchants conducting legitimate business share common sentiments. Seeing this foreigner so reasonable, Gu Pingyuan was filled with respect and suddenly found this oddly-dressed foreigner much more pleasing to the eye.

After a few polite exchanges, Lin Charlie asked: “Since you’re Huizhou tea merchants, I’d like to inquire about this Ten Thousand Tea Conference to be held in Beijing. Might you enlighten me?”

Gu Pingyuan was first startled, then laughed: “This is truly inconvenient—we also came here to gather information. Before finding any leads, we encountered Boss Lin. Don’t tell me you’ve also come to participate in the Ten Thousand Tea Conference?”

“Exactly!” This Lin Charlie was completely forthright. “I originally transported a batch of Ceylon black tea to sell at Guangzhou’s Thirteen Hongs. At the wharf I heard about this Ten Thousand Tea Conference and was delighted. I simply traveled the sea route to Tianjin, then loaded the tea onto carts for Beijing, just to participate in the Ten Thousand Tea Conference, win a top ten famous tea ranking, and sell for a good price.”

Gu Pingyuan secretly smiled that this English merchant also thought the Ten Thousand Tea Conference too simple, but he quite liked the man’s straightforward honesty without scheming. He said: “In that case, since we all need to gather information, why not walk together?”

“Good.” Lin Charlie readily agreed.

Since they were entering guildhalls, Secretary Hao thought it most appropriate to go to the Huizhou Merchants’ Hall—after all, they were fellow countrymen who surely wouldn’t refuse to share information.

Gu Pingyuan thought the same, but unexpectedly enemies’ paths are narrow—entering the guildhall gate, they immediately encountered Chief Steward Hu.

“So it’s you.” Chief Steward Hu still spun those copper balls that never left his hands, looking at Gu Pingyuan with some disgust. “It seems you’ve managed to get some silver and also run here to participate in this Ten Thousand Tea Conference.”

Gu Pingyuan had ruined fellow Huizhou merchants’ affairs and felt guilty, so he didn’t mind the rudeness, still respectfully cupping his hands: “The Chief Steward must also be in the capital for this matter. Today I wanted to come to the guildhall…”

“I don’t care what you want to do!” Chief Steward Hu interrupted him. “But you cannot enter the guildhall. This is my territory. I’ve already said—no Huizhou merchants may associate with you, and I must lead by example.”

“This is unreasonable. We’re not here to do business, just to ask about things,” Secretary Hao couldn’t restrain himself.

“Ask about things? Then there’s even less need to enter. The people here won’t answer you.” Chief Steward Hu’s voice was hard and cold.

Secretary Hao wanted to argue further, but Gu Pingyuan knew argument was useless and turned to stop him: “Brother Hao, forget it. Let’s ask elsewhere.”

Lin Charlie, not knowing the background, was baffled following them in and equally baffled being driven out. After walking not far, he finally couldn’t help asking: “Boss Gu, aren’t you Huizhou people? Why would the Huizhou Merchants’ Hall drive you away?”

Gu Pingyuan said apologetically: “It’s all because I acted recklessly before, but I’ve implicated Brother Lin. I’m truly sorry.”

After hearing the reasons, Lin Charlie greatly praised Gu Pingyuan’s actions and insisted on befriending him. Just as they were talking, a convoy of large carts came from ahead. The old man leading was driving when his eyes caught sight of the several people by the roadside. He suddenly reined in his horse sharply and called out in an excited, trembling voice: “Hei Ta…”

“Father!” Liu Heita cried out and rushed forward several steps, hugging Chang Si’s legs and bursting into tears.

Gu Pingyuan, suddenly seeing Chang Si, was also surprised and delighted. Not bothering to introduce Secretary Hao and the others, he hurried over, first persuading Liu Heita to stop crying, then helping the old man down from the cart.

“Old Father, how have you been lately?”

“Good, good.” Chang Si looked at his adopted son and Gu Pingyuan as if having a belly full of words to say, yet was too excited to know where to begin.

“Oh right, where’s my sister? Did you leave her at home?” Liu Heita laughed and cried, now thinking of Chang Yu’er and asking with a grin.

“Sigh…” Chang Si sighed for some reason, his gaze turning backward. Following his look, Gu Pingyuan saw at the very end of the long line of carts, far in the distance at the convoy’s tail was a small two-wheeled carriage. The curtain was lifted at one corner, and Chang Yu’er was gazing steadily at him from afar. When their eyes met, Gu Pingyuan felt Chang Yu’er’s gaze held both inexpressible deep affection and a trace of unspeakable pain. Combined together, it seemed to carry a thousand pounds of weight, all focused on him alone. Gu Pingyuan’s heart shook, immediately feeling heavy inside.

“Sister looks much thinner.” Liu Heita hadn’t noticed these things and turned to ask Chang Si. “Father, why did you bring Sister along? Don’t tell me that old scoundrel Wang Tiangui is up to his tricks again?”

“Not exactly, but my leaving this time is half related to him.”

Just this one sentence left Gu Pingyuan puzzled. Chang Si saw this wasn’t a place for conversation and asked: “Younger brother Gu, my convoy just entered the capital, transporting goods that must be delivered to the Shanxi Merchants’ Hall. Where are you going? After I deliver the goods, I’ll come find you—there’s much to discuss.”

Gu Pingyuan told him where he was staying, then suddenly had an inspiration: “Old Father, since you’re going to the Shanxi Merchants’ Hall, could you help me inquire about some matters?”

“Of course. Tell me.”

Gu Pingyuan explained everything he wanted to know and temporarily parted with Chang Si. Liu Heita naturally followed the convoy. As the small carriage passed by, though the curtain was already lowered, Gu Pingyuan could still feel through the carriage walls that Chang Yu’er was reluctantly watching him.

Since Chang Si was helping gather information, they needn’t go elsewhere now—they could simply return to “Kelai Sheng” to wait.

They returned to the inn, instructed the staff to watch for visitors, then all went to Gu Pingyuan’s second-floor room. While drinking tea and eating refreshments, they listened to Lin Charlie tell overseas anecdotes—time passed quickly.

In less than an hour, Chang Si arrived with Liu Heita. Earlier had been a chance street encounter; this was their formal meeting. On this side were Secretary Hao and newly acquainted Lin Charlie; on that side were the Chang father and son. Gu Pingyuan naturally had to make introductions all around.

After everyone exchanged pleasantries, it was time for serious matters. Gu Pingyuan asked everyone to sit and immediately asked: “Old Father, I’ve worried about you constantly this past year but didn’t dare have anyone inquire in Shanxi.”

“I know—you feared exposing your whereabouts would instead implicate me.” Chang Si was very understanding. “Rest assured, your scheme to eliminate the threat of Wang Tiangui worked—no one troubles our Chang family now.”

However, since Gu Pingyuan fled Shanxi, Wang Tiangui had also vanished without trace. This man was famously sinister and cunning. Once he disappeared completely, Chang Si constantly felt uneasy, often looking back while walking, unable even to sleep peacefully.

“Open spears are easy to dodge, hidden arrows hard to guard against. He might very well take revenge on me. I couldn’t handle him in the open, let alone now when he’s hiding in some corner brewing evil. Without precautions, I’d suffer greatly sooner or later, so I simply followed the ‘thirty-six stratagems—retreat is best.'” Chang Si spoke at length, then picked up his teacup for several sips.

“You have salt fields and an old residence in Taigu County. How could you leave?” Gu Pingyuan asked.

“I sold the salt field at original price and paid all debts owed to others. The old residence—one iron lock, it won’t disappear sitting there. I calculated privately that after selling the salt field, considerable silver remained. I simply hired several clerks, bought over ten large carts, and helped tea shops, grain shops transport goods. Each trip actually earns good silver.”

Though he spoke lightly, Gu Pingyuan knew this was actually being unable to return home. Feeling greatly guilty, he said apologetically: “It’s all because I implicated Old Father.”

“What talk…” Chang Si didn’t like hearing this. “Without you, I’d have drowned myself, and the family residence would have long belonged to Wang Tiangui. Meeting you was my fortune—how can you speak of implication?”

Secretary Hao understood the reasoning and smiled while smoking his pipe: “With you not in Taigu, even if he has a thousand schemes, he cannot use them. I say you chose correctly—otherwise you’d have been calculated against sooner or later.”

Only then did Gu Pingyuan feel slightly relieved. He refilled the old man’s teacup and said: “Evil people will eventually meet evil retribution. Old Father needn’t take this person too seriously.”

He paused, then said: “Old Father, how went the matters I asked you to inquire about?”

Gu Pingyuan had asked Chang Si to inquire about three things from the Shanxi Merchants’ Hall stewards. First: How exactly would this Ten Thousand Tea Conference be held? What were the rules? Second: The Shanxi merchants were also one of the top merchant guilds nationwide—how did they plan to respond to this Ten Thousand Tea Conference? Third: What role exactly did the capital merchants play in the Ten Thousand Tea Conference? Would they monopolize everything?

Chang Si had completely figured out the first matter. The Ten Thousand Tea Conference would be held in Prince Chun’s mansion’s back garden. Each type of tea entered could only be submitted by one merchant household, and just to participate, each tea type required paying eight thousand taels of silver, euphemistically called “tea appreciation money.”

“Eight thousand taels—tsk tsk, that’s no small sum.” Even Gu Pingyuan frowned deeply upon hearing this. He had originally thought twenty thousand taels was a huge amount, never expecting that merely entering a prince’s back garden would take “one-third of the world.” Though he knew this silver couldn’t be saved, the heartache was inevitable.

“You think that’s all? There’s more… Spending eight thousand taels is just paying the registration entry fee. One payment only allows each merchant household to bring three people. If you want to enter the mansion’s flower hall for premium seating, separated from the Prince by mere feet for a few warm words of inquiry, that requires another ten thousand taels. Otherwise, you can only sit at scattered tables in the garden.”

“I hear the eight thousand taels go to the Ministry of Revenue, while this ten thousand taels is a money-making scheme devised by the Prince’s mansion guests.” After hearing Chang Si’s account, Gu Pingyuan and the others looked at each other, momentarily speechless.

After a long while, Liu Heita blinked and asked: “Elder Brother Gu, will you spend this ten thousand taels?”

“What does Elder Brother Hao say?” Gu Pingyuan turned to Secretary Hao.

Secretary Hao thought, then asked Chang Si: “This ten thousand taels—if it’s only for a premium seat in the flower hall and casual conversation with the Prince, it seems too expensive. Are there other perks?”

Chang Si nodded: “Master Hao speaks truly. There’s a saying that Prince Chun is the decisive final judge. If participating merchants can spend this ten thousand taels, the Prince will naturally be pleased, and perhaps the ‘Top Ten Famous Teas’ title might fall to their house.”

Lin Charlie, who had been silent, was now shocked: “You mean it’s not about comparing tea, but about who has the deepest pockets?”

“Exactly so.”

Gu Pingyuan said: “Not entirely. The ‘Top Ten Famous Teas’ title is so precious—how could ten thousand taels secure it? I suspect this is just rumor spread by the Prince’s mansion to attract merchants to pay, since there’s no contract anyway. Who can’t speak pretty words?”

Lin Charlie said: “By Boss Gu’s meaning, you won’t pay this ten thousand taels?”

“Paying would be useless—just becoming a sucker. Will the Shanxi merchants pay this sum?” Gu Pingyuan looked at Chang Si.

The old man shook his head: “Never mind ten thousand taels—they won’t even pay the eight thousand taels ‘tea appreciation money.'”

This answer was somewhat unexpected—everyone was startled.

“Currently, the Shanxi merchants’ tea routes are jointly controlled by Qiao Zhiyong of Qiao Family Fortress and several major tea merchants. They gathered to study this Ten Thousand Tea Conference and concluded that this conference was instigated by the capital merchants and held in the capital—clearly the capital merchants already possess the advantages of timing and location. Without absolute certainty, they won’t ‘make wedding clothes for others.’ This gathering of famous teas from across the realm in the capital is, frankly speaking, nothing more than supporting the capital merchants’ performance. In the end, they’ll all become green leaves adorning the capital merchants’ red flowers. So Qiao Zhiyong doesn’t plan to waste money—no battle means no victory or defeat, which actually looks dignified. This is currently the Shanxi merchants’ plan.”

After hearing this, Gu Pingyuan also thought the Shanxi merchants were astute in assessing the situation, calculating very shrewdly—truly worthy of being merchant guild leaders. He secretly admired them.

“But there’s one thing I don’t understand,” Chang Si said with furrowed brows. “The Shanxi merchants studied together and concluded that unless you control the origin tea gardens of some fine tea and can buy exclusively in large quantities until monopolizing supply, even obtaining the ‘Top Ten Famous Teas’ title would just be empty vanity. The North produces no good tea at all—the capital merchants are merely tea dealers without good tea mountains or fields. Why would they instigate officials to organize this Ten Thousand Tea Conference? Even Qiao Zhiyong can’t see through this point.”

This question struck right at Gu Pingyuan’s heart—he had long been pondering this issue but could never guess the mystery within.

“There’s another thing—younger brother Gu will be shocked to hear it,” Chang Si said. “Our Shanxi banks have always had dealings with the capital’s money houses. I heard that the capital merchants’ Li Wantang recently contributed five million taels of silver to the Ministry of Revenue through Lao Hengli of the ‘Four Great Heng’ banks, with another million taels to follow.”

Not only Gu Pingyuan but everyone present was greatly shocked. Six million taels! If used for business, one could immediately claim the top position in some trades; if spent on pleasure, even daily debauchery couldn’t exhaust it for several generations in a grand household. This Li Wantang actually sent such a huge sum to the Ministry of Revenue in one go—had he gone mad?

“Coincidentally, just after he transferred this money to the Ministry of Revenue, Prince Gong, who deliberates policy, instructed the Ministry to opportunely handle the ‘Ten Thousand Tea Conference’ matter.”

Gu Pingyuan snorted coldly: “Coincidences don’t reach such extremes. I understand now—this is fundamentally a transaction.”

Secretary Hao asked thoughtfully: “You mean using six million taels of silver to buy the court’s support for organizing the Ten Thousand Tea Conference?”

“That price seems too high—I fear there’s more to it.”

Just as they reached this point, someone knocked at the door. Liu Heita, being nearest, looked outside and pulled the door open. A person walked gracefully in from outside. Seeing her, Gu Pingyuan and the others were all startled and rose from their chairs.

The person entering was a young woman in her prime. Though all present were businessmen who understood proper separation between men and women, even the overseas Lin Charlie, having done business with Chinese for so long, knew that unless families were intimately acquainted, womenfolk rarely met with outsiders.

Gu Pingyuan naturally recognized the visitor, but with so many people present, he momentarily couldn’t greet Chang Yu’er appropriately.

Chang Si’s face suddenly showed anxiety as he spoke to his daughter: “You needn’t mind me—go to your room and rest first. This journey has been tiring.”

“Yes,” Chang Yu’er replied quietly, quickly lifting her eyes to glance around the room. Her gaze lingered on Gu Pingyuan momentarily. Though her eyes held countless unspoken words, she finally lowered them slightly, turned, and withdrew, closing the door behind her.

“That was my daughter Yu’er just now—gentlemen, please don’t take offense,” Chang Si said. “Sigh, it’s truly inconvenient for women to travel for business. This child isn’t young anymore—if she could marry into a good family soon, I could close my eyes in death.” Chang Si suddenly sighed deeply, speaking to Liu Heita but looking at Gu Pingyuan.

“Father, why speak such words out of nowhere? Sister and I will serve you for many years to come,” Liu Heita didn’t like hearing this.

Hearing Chang Si’s seemingly meaningful words, Gu Pingyuan asked awkwardly: “Old Father, since you’re traveling for business, why not have Miss Chang stay with relatives? That would be much better than suffering hardships on the road.”

“Yes, Father, your handling of this matter lacks consideration.”

Chang Si seemed about to speak but stopped, looking at Secretary Hao, then at Lin Charlie, finally sighing heavily again and shaking his head wordlessly.

Even the slowest person could see Chang Si had unspeakable difficulties. Secretary Hao was first to stand, pulling the still-confused Lin Charlie: “Come, come, Brother Lin. You praised the many virtues of Ceylon black tea—let me visit your lodgings to taste some.” Without allowing protest, he dragged Lin Charlie from the room.

Gu Pingyuan also stood. Chang Si seemed to want him to stay but ultimately changed his mind, allowing Gu Pingyuan to take his leave.

The father and son hid in their room all afternoon without showing themselves. At dusk, as Gu Pingyuan passed the inn’s west courtyard, a muffled voice called to him.

“Brother Hei Ta, I was just coming to find you. Let’s all gather tonight—it’s rare to have such liveliness.”

Liu Heita usually loved liveliness most, but hearing this, he showed no response, squatting motionlessly on the ground. His large bell-like eyes blinked occasionally, as if troubled by some worry.

In Gu Pingyuan’s impression, Liu Heita was someone who never pondered things, much less showed such a heavily burdened appearance. Finding it somewhat amusing, he waited a while longer. Confirming Liu Heita wouldn’t speak first, he asked: “Brother, you seem to have something to say?”

Liu Heita still wouldn’t speak, scratching his head in frustration before suddenly thrusting his hand toward Gu Pingyuan without looking at him.

“What’s this about?”

“The thumb ring!” Liu Heita said dully.

“Thumb ring?” Gu Pingyuan didn’t understand his riddle. After a moment’s confusion, he realized Liu Heita might mean the jade thumb ring Chang Yu’er had given him.

Sure enough, Liu Heita said: “Is my mother’s thumb ring that she left to Yu’er in your hands?”

“Yes.” Explaining how this ring came to be in his possession wouldn’t be easy. Gu Pingyuan concealed the incident of Li Qin wanting to harm Chang Yu’er, only saying it related to Wang Tiangui. Otherwise, with Liu Heita’s temper, he would have charged to the Li mansion immediately, causing great trouble.

“Give it to me,” Liu Heita said in his muffled voice. Though Gu Pingyuan was puzzled, he still found the ring in his pouch and was about to hand it to Liu Heita.

Unexpectedly, Liu Heita became angry, springing to his feet and glaring down at Gu Pingyuan furiously: “You’d really give it to me? Elder Brother Gu, I’ve always admired you, but if you bully my sister, that won’t do. Even if it were the Jade Emperor himself bullying Yu’er, I’d still twist his head off.”

Gu Pingyuan was bewildered by this sudden outburst, pressing his hands downward: “Wait, Brother Liu, you must explain clearly. Miss Chang and I haven’t seen each other for over a year, and we just met today. How have I bullied her?”

“You just bullied her,” Liu Heita said decisively.

He still spoke without coherence. Gu Pingyuan could only remain silent, watching Liu Heita expectantly.

“Father just mentioned Yu’er suffering hardships away from home—he was giving you an opening. Why didn’t you respond at all?”

“How should I have responded?”

“Naturally, you should ask Father to betroth Yu’er to you. With her future settled, she wouldn’t need to run around everywhere suffering with us.”

“Ah?” Gu Pingyuan looked at Liu Heita’s expression, confirming he wasn’t joking, then replied: “Marriage is a major life matter—how can it be treated so carelessly?”

“Carelessly?” Liu Heita was thoroughly enraged, grabbing Gu Pingyuan’s collar and pulling him up, raising his fist to strike. Suddenly he deflated, released Gu Pingyuan, and strode away.

Gu Pingyuan was completely baffled, not knowing why Liu Heita had said such things or how he had offended him.

“This time Young Master did beautifully—spending forty thousand taels to subdue that stubborn old Yang. This morning, the pawnshop guild’s one million has already reached the Li family accounts.”

“You’re wrong,” Li Qin immediately corrected Li An. “I didn’t spend a penny—those forty thousand taels belonged to old Yang.”

Li Wantang looked at his son, his eyes rarely showing a hint of approval: “Currently, merchants from all over have gathered in the capital for this Ten Thousand Tea Conference. I must meet many people and have no time for details. You’ll represent the Li family, working with several head managers to organize this conference. Remember, though the Prince has already promised us the ‘Tea King’ title, everything remains undecided. We absolutely cannot be careless.”

Having worked hard without receiving praise, Li Qin was already displeased. Suddenly hearing his father entrust him with this important responsibility—a perfect opportunity to show off before merchant guilds nationwide—he was amazed. He had always been excluded from Li family business, his father forbidding him from interfering with various trades. Now suddenly elevated from earth to heaven, with even several usually capable, highly respected head managers under his command, Li Qin could hardly believe it. His steps felt light as he left.

“What, you think he can’t handle this burden?” After his son had gone far, Li Wantang glanced at Li An.

“I just feel that if the master wishes to train Young Master, it might be better to progress from light to heavy. Suddenly placing such a heavy load on Young Master’s shoulders might crush him,” Li An replied carefully.

Li Wantang didn’t respond—he had his own plans. The Li family business differed from others. The Li family head must have broad vision and grand capabilities, or he couldn’t control this giant ship. Such grand gatherings were rare in a century. Having the opportunity to train here was worth ten years of business elsewhere.

“I have only this one son—I must forge him into something worthwhile. The Li family business will eventually be passed to him,” Li Wantang said softly, seemingly to himself rather than Li An.

Li An lowered his head: “Master, when I delivered the pawnshop guild’s one million taels to the Ministry of Revenue, I heard some rumors that might be unfavorable to us.”

“Mm.” Li Wantang opened his fan, apparently listening casually, though he heard and absorbed every word.

“They say the Western one has recently been quite dissatisfied with Prince Gong, thinking he’s become increasingly arrogant, and plans to curtail his authority.”

“Hmm.”

“The Eastern one initially paid no mind, but with the Western one constantly saying such things, her attitude toward Prince Gong seems less favorable than before.”

“Mm.”

“Once, a palace eunuch personally heard the two Dowager Empresses chatting while playing chess. The Western one actually compared Prince Gong to a certain person.”

“Who?”

“Palace Lantern.” Li An softly uttered these two words.

Outwardly, Li Wantang’s expression remained unchanged, but inwardly he was shocked. “Palace Lantern” was code, referring by shape to the character “Su.” “The Western one” naturally meant Empress Dowager Cixi. That she would compare Prince Gong to this already-beheaded deadly enemy couldn’t be taken lightly.

“We capital merchants rely entirely on cultivating relationships with current power holders. Previously it was Palace Lantern—when he fell, the Li family and all capital merchants suffered huge losses. Now we’ve finally connected with the Prince Regent through Baoyun. We absolutely cannot afford another failure,” Li Wantang’s brow bone twitched.

“But the Western one is, after all, the Sacred Mother Empress Dowager, the current Emperor’s birth mother. If she wants to make trouble for someone, I fear…” Li An said hesitantly.

Li Wantang pondered briefly, then suddenly smiled: “She compares him to Palace Lantern, but I’ve thought of a path inspired by Palace Lantern too.” He strode toward the door, Li An following closely.

“Master Li, please speak directly,” Su Zixuan had Sixi serve tea while carefully observing Li Wantang’s expression. She knew this man, whose skills could manipulate court officials, never visited without purpose.

“You probably think I never visit without purpose, but you’re wrong. I’m merely visiting an old friend’s daughter,” Li Wantang said leisurely, casually strolling around the room, admiring the orchids on shelves and picking up a copy of Records of Preparing Against Japanese Pirates to flip through.

“This is Qi Jiguang’s military text. It’s rare for a young lady to enjoy such books—truly inheriting her father’s style. Without him presiding over the Grand Secretariat then, how could we have today’s situation with Jiangnan and Jiangbei camps surrounding Jiangning?”

Hearing this, Su Zixuan remained unmoved: “Right and wrong, merits and faults will be judged by posterity. Currently, those who hate my father hold great power—it’s far from time for final judgment.”

Li Wantang nodded, looking at the tender green willow branches in the courtyard: “In two days it will be Dragon Boat Festival. Merchants in the capital, regardless of province, visit Qianmen’s Guan Gong Temple on this holiday to offer realgar wine and five-poison cakes. I remember that year when no one expected your father, a full Manchu Minister of Revenue, to personally preside over the ceremony, warmly encouraging us capital merchants and giving us great face before merchant guilds nationwide. Thereafter, everyone contributed even more energetically to military provisions and national service.”

He sighed deeply: “It was at that Dragon Boat gathering that I met your father. As a mere businessman, I dared not presume to approach him, but he graciously befriended me. Ten years have passed in a flash. People say the Li family business multiplied several times in these ten years because of my abilities, but I know that without your father’s support, I couldn’t have achieved this! Though our friendship remains, he’s gone. Just recently I secretly visited his grave to pay respects—my heart ached terribly.” Speaking of this, he seemed touched by emotion, his eyes slightly reddening.

“Thank you for that. Shamefully, since Father’s death, I’ve never visited his grave,” Su Zixuan’s eyebrows didn’t move, her voice remaining ice-cold. Hearing this, Li Wantang became twelve times more careful—without extraordinary schemes, how could this woman endure extraordinary events?

He knew this Su Zixuan possessed heaven-sent intelligence. Words must be measured—just enough, no more: “Your not going is appropriate. Your father died so miserably that even the veteran executioner ‘One-Blade Liu’ couldn’t bear to watch. Your visiting would only cause pointless grief—surely not what your father would wish to see.”

“What do you mean ‘died so miserably’!” Su Zixuan finally showed emotion, her eyebrows rising as she stared at Li Wantang.

“You don’t know?” Li Wantang said in surprise. “Oh yes, I heard you never leave your chambers—you truly wouldn’t know. Forgive my slip of tongue.” He appeared greatly alarmed.

“Sixi!” Su Zixuan turned toward her, shooting two piercing cold rays from her eyes.

Sixi panicked, avoiding Su Zixuan’s gaze, not knowing what to do.

“She’s just a maid who was with you outside the capital then. Even if she heard something, it would be incomplete and inaccurate. Why make things difficult for her?” Li Wantang persuaded.

“Then you tell me!” Su Zixuan stood and approached Li Wantang.

“I… I… Sigh! Who told your father to offend a woman who absolutely mustn’t be offended? When Empress Lü tortured Concubine Qi, creating the ‘human pig’ disaster, I see the current palace woman has a heart much like Empress Lü’s—truly ‘the most poisonous is a woman’s heart,'” Li Wantang appeared extremely reluctant. “It’s been two years—just forget it.”

“Forget?! How can such things be forgotten? Previously I didn’t know, but now that I do, I must understand completely.”

“Don’t ask me—I truly cannot speak of it. Many people were present then, including many of your father’s former subordinates. Ask them instead. This old man takes his leave!” Li Wantang cupped his hands and hurried away with Li An.

“Subordinates…” Su Zixuan watched his retreating figure, pondering briefly before instructing Sixi: “Prepare things—I’m going out.”

Li Wantang traveled incognito without a sedan chair. After leaving, his demeanor quickly returned to that leisurely, unconcerned manner. Walking unhurriedly along the road, meeting acquaintances or even casual contacts who greeted him, he smiled warmly and nodded, occasionally asking street vendors about their business. From appearances alone, no one could guess this refined middle-aged man was the wealth-commanding “Li Half-City.”

“Master!” After following him two li and seeing few people around, Li An finally spoke quietly: “You say this woman, without strength or martial skills, what can she do to the Western one?”

“What can my Li family, despite our vast wealth, do to the Western one?” Li Wantang countered.

“This…” Li An didn’t know how to respond.

“She’s a sharp blade—occasionally using her might accomplish something.”

“You said ‘might’…” Li An seemed to understand something.

“Exactly—might, perhaps, what if… In any case, nothing’s certain. If it were certain, it would implicate us.”

Give her a reason to act without telling her how—such intelligent people will surely find their own methods. Even if unsuccessful, it couldn’t be traced back to him. Li An now fully understood Li Wantang’s purpose today and nodded admiringly.

“Princess Zixuan, don’t force me,” Yisang’a growled, then shut his mouth in alarm.

He discovered that Su Zixuan was actually smiling—quite happily.

“Do you remember the old days?”

“The old days…”

“Two years ago, when our wedding date was set, waiting only for the late Emperor’s hundred-day mourning to end. After you received the Vice Minister of War position, we would marry. Father arranged a brilliant future for you and betrothed his only daughter to you. Then you were high-spirited, called ‘Young Zhou Yu of the court.’ We Manchu children aren’t like Han families in avoiding such things—you took me to many places in Beijing’s suburbs: Tanzhe Temple, Taoran Pavilion, Black Dragon Pool, Second Lock… Have you forgotten those days?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten…” Yisang’a looked at Su Zixuan’s beautiful face, hearing her gentle words, unconsciously recalling their past happy times when he would have gladly given his whole heart to this devastatingly beautiful Princess Zixuan.

But now Su Zixuan’s expression changed—spring breezes and peach blossoms became cold as frost: “Then you claimed undying loyalty to my father—did you ever imagine that one day he’d die on the execution ground while you’d serve his killers, enjoying wealth and honors? Did you ever imagine that one day the Princess Zixuan you swore to protect with your life would have to hide her identity and flee, while you wouldn’t even dare ask after her? Did you ever imagine that one day when his daughter asked about the truth of that execution day, you wouldn’t even dare mention it, like a coward only able to say ‘don’t force me’!”

“Stop talking!” The relentless questions hammered his chest like sledgehammers. Yisang’a painfully held his head: “Do you think I’m well? Do you think I don’t have nightmares every night, dreaming of that execution scene? I don’t speak because it’s for your good—hearing it would definitely make you sad and distressed, and you’d become like me, getting drunk every night to avoid those terrible dreams.”

“I’m not as useless as you!” Su Zixuan coldly interrupted. “Speak!”

Su Shun’s execution was fundamentally a power struggle between regent ministers and imperial relatives of the inner palace. Before Emperor Xianfeng’s death, he designated eight regent ministers but deliberately excluded his supposedly capable sixth brother, Prince Gong, which left Prince Gong resentful, with many sharing his indignation. Though Cixi was a woman, her lust for power was extreme. Seeing Prince Gong’s intentions, she worked hard to win him over—one advocating rule from behind the curtain, the other rewarded with the title of Prince Regent. The two hit it off immediately, thus creating the bloody mess of the Xinyou Coup.

Among the eight regent ministers, Prince Yi and Prince Zheng were granted white silk to commit suicide, while others were either exiled or stripped of office. The dead kept their whole bodies, the living need not be mentioned—only Su Shun suffered separation of head from body.

It’s said that Prince Gong originally pitied Su Shun as rare Manchu talent and only planned to confine him permanently. But Empress Dowager Cixi insisted on execution, moreover binding him for public execution at Caishikou, saying only this could intimidate all officials and establish authority for rule from behind the curtain. When the Empress Dowager spoke thus, Prince Gong agreed with indifference.

Actually, Cixi’s insistence on killing Su Shun had hidden reasons. Previously at Rehe Palace, Su Shun had repeatedly advised the Emperor about future concerns, urging him to follow Emperor Wu of Han’s example of executing Lady Gouyi—kill the mother, keep the son—and execute Noble Consort Lan, who already showed signs of power hunger. Emperor Xianfeng was soft-hearted, remembering that Noble Consort Lan had borne the only prince and contributed to the dynasty, ultimately not adopting this plan.

But when Noble Consort Lan became Empress Dowager Cixi, someone currying favor told her of Su Shun’s original secret plot. Cixi’s rage was extraordinary, and she recalled how at the summer palace, Su Shun’s two concubines had unknowingly offended her due to not recognizing the imperial countenance—all because this powerful minister backed them. Now with the situation reversed and Su Shun meat on the chopping block, this account truly needed settling.

Li Wantang’s words about “the most poisonous is a woman’s heart” truly didn’t wrong Cixi. Originally, imperial clansmen with yellow belts like Su Shun, no matter how great their crimes, were not to be shackled, locked, humiliated, cursed, starved, parched, tortured, or abused—this was the rule passed down from Taizu’s time. But this time, the inner court sent An Dehai, Cixi’s most favored eunuch, to deliver orders. After receiving them, the Imperial Clan Court subjected Su Shun to severe torture, killing his two concubines in prison. As for Su Shun, by execution day he was beaten beyond human recognition.

Upon leaving the Imperial Clan Court’s prison gate, waiting for Su Shun were iron “authority-crushing clubs” swinging from left and right. After two cracking sounds, Su Shun screamed—both kneecaps were shattered. He was dragged like a dead dog into the prison cart.

Disheveled Su Shun knew his end was near. When the prison cart reached the main street, he gathered strength to curse Cixi and Prince Gong loudly: “Filthy skirts and worthless crown! You uncle and sister-in-law collude wickedly, bullying the young emperor’s innocence. The Qing Dynasty will be ruined by your hands sooner or later…”

Several soldiers from the Infantry Commander’s office had long received orders. Seeing Su Shun cursing, they wordlessly climbed onto the cart, pried open Su Shun’s mouth with knives, and despite his continuous screams, used a small iron hook to pull out his tongue and cut it off at the root. This wasn’t enough—a group of eunuchs appeared from nowhere, splashing basin after basin of stinking mud dug from rivers and excrement from street latrines onto the prison cart. Soon Su Shun’s face and body were filthy beyond description, and he was half-unconscious while these eunuchs cursed him with shrill voices and unbearable obscenities.

Upon reaching Caishikou, when noon arrived for execution, the famous “One-Blade Liu” actually took four cuts to sever Su Shun’s neck. Su Shun roared harshly, suffering additional torment before death. Some said the executioner’s hand was soft, others that Su Shun’s neck was hard. Actually, “One-Blade Liu” knew—there were orders from above not to use his accustomed ghost-head blade, but to temporarily switch to a dull blade that looked unmaintained for three months…

“Miss, please speak. Since we returned, you’ve just sat there. It’s dark now and you haven’t eaten or drunk anything—this won’t do.” Sixi was nearly crying, watching Su Zixuan sit motionlessly in the courtyard’s bamboo chair, staring at the screen wall. That bloodless face was whiter than the wall itself, chilling her to the bone.

She spoke for a long time without Su Zixuan responding, until later when the night watchman struck the hour. Before the wooden clapper sounds faded, Su Zixuan suddenly spoke.

“Sixi.”

“Yes, Miss, I’m listening.”

“From today, you needn’t accompany me anymore.”

“Ah?”

“Go out, wherever it’s lively, gather information for me.”

“What information?”

“Any information—big or small, everything happening in these forty-nine city wards among all trades and professions, I want to know, the faster the better. Go find more beggars’ guild members ‘on the pole,’ don’t spare silver. Do you hear?” Only Su Zixuan’s lips moved slightly.

“Yes.” Sixi agreed, looking at her worriedly and tentatively asking, “Miss, shall I accompany you tomorrow to pay respects to the master?”

“I will go, but I cannot go empty-handed.” Su Zixuan’s voice seemed to float from very far away.

Around lamp-lighting time, the men who had gone out returned in twos and threes. Lin Charlie, planning to befriend Gu Pingyuan, had simply moved to this inn as well. Secretary Hao joked with the head manager: “I’m more or less an official under the Ministry of Personnel. The Huizhou and Shanxi merchants are under the Ministry of Revenue, and this English merchant probably falls under the Zongli Yamen. Your small inn has quite impressive connections.”

The head manager smiled apologetically: “Indeed, indeed, all distinguished patrons of our establishment. If service is inadequate, please forgive us.”

“Never mind that—today I’m hosting a seafood banquet.” He tossed over a five-tael silver ingot. “Tell the head chef to show his skills—if it’s not delicious, I won’t let it pass.”

“Certainly, you’ll see.” The manager happily went to arrange things.

“Younger brother Gu, I wasn’t just tea-tasting this afternoon. I didn’t forget what you asked me to do—I found a former close colleague of Lord Qiao at the Ministry of Revenue, also a ninth-rank clerk, and learned quite a lot,” Secretary Hao said to Gu Pingyuan.

At the table were the same people from the afternoon: Gu Pingyuan, Secretary Hao, Lin Charlie, the Chang father and son, plus two capable assistants from Chang’s convoy.

New friends and old acquaintances were all in high spirits, very lively, except Liu Heita sat with a black face saying nothing, pouring wine into his cup upon sitting down. Fortunately his face was naturally dark, so besides Gu Pingyuan, no one noticed his strange mood.

After three rounds of wine, everyone wanted to hear Secretary Hao’s gathered intelligence. His afternoon hadn’t been wasted—the information he obtained was quite “solid.”

“Tell me, if no one were manipulating things from behind, logically speaking, which tea would most likely win first place?” Secretary Hao asked first.

Everyone was momentarily stumped. There were so many famous teas—West Lake Longjing, Tieguanyin, Huangshan Maofeng, Lu’an Guapian, Dahongpao, Yunnan Pu’er, Sichuan Mengding Ganlu, Qihong, Dianhong, etc. Counting them off, there were probably over twenty worthy of first place.

“Speaking of tea-tasting, everyone has different tastes and preferences. To say which tea is absolutely first would be hard to convince everyone,” Chang Si said fairly before the group, and everyone nodded in agreement.

“Biluochun—’World’s First Tea’ is Biluochun!” Gu Pingyuan had been thinking quietly. He didn’t follow the crowd but made a definitive judgment.

First to object was Lin Charlie: “I know Biluochun—it’s fine tea indeed, but to say it could surpass all other varieties and claim victory seems unlikely?”

“I say it’s Biluochun, so it’s Biluochun,” Gu Pingyuan said calmly, appearing absolutely certain.

This made everyone curious, all asking him to explain.

“The reason is simple—just one phrase. This dynasty values ancestral institutions, the so-called ‘revere Heaven and follow ancestors,'” Gu Pingyuan said lightly.

Everyone looked at each other, clearly not understanding, except Secretary Hao showed admiration.

Gu Pingyuan didn’t keep them guessing long and explained: “What does ‘follow ancestors’ mean? Everything follows ancestral precedents, never lightly changing. The name ‘Biluochun’ was given by the Sacred Ancestor Emperor Kangxi—it’s an imperial gift name. If ranked behind other teas, it would disrespect Old Buddha Kangxi. Think about it—since this is a court-arranged tea conference, how could Biluochun not be first?”

“Moreover, Prince Chun is the chief judge, and he’s also Emperor Kangxi’s descendant. How dare he disrespect his own ancestor?” Secretary Hao added.

Chang Si understood suddenly: “By this reasoning, Biluochun winning first place isn’t just certain—it’s absolutely guaranteed!”

“Not necessarily,” Gu Pingyuan shook his head, truly confusing everyone.

“Boss Gu,” Lin Charlie said with mouth half-open, “You say yes, you say no—what’s this yes and no business about?”

“This affair is very strange. Logically, Biluochun should definitely be first tea. The capital merchants should also realize this, yet they spent six million taels—surely not to promote others’ tea? You must know that since the Kangxi era, Biluochun has been the Dongting Merchant Guild’s exclusive preserve, never allowing others to interfere. The capital merchants couldn’t gain the slightest benefit from Biluochun—what reason would they have to promote it?” Gu Pingyuan frowned thoughtfully.

“Could the capital merchants have formed an alliance with the Dongting Merchant Guild?” Chang Si hypothesized.

“That only benefits the capital merchants—the Dongting Guild wouldn’t agree,” Gu Pingyuan replied.

“I heard this time the Dongting Guild is very confident. The guild master himself didn’t come, only sending a deputy, apparently certain the ‘imperial gift tea name’ must win first place,” Secretary Hao said slowly. “But their wishful thinking is probably wrong. The Ministry clerk told me the capital merchants’ six million taels has been entirely deposited in the national treasury, and Minister of Revenue Baoyun has an agreement with capital merchant Li Wantang—once this six million reaches the Ministry’s accounts, the ‘World’s First Tea’ title will definitely go to the capital merchants.”

This bombshell made Gu Pingyuan urgently ask: “Baoyun is merely Minister of Revenue—can he make decisions for Prince Chun?”

“Someone else makes the decisions—behind Baoyun is Prince Gong.”

“The Prince Regent!” Gu Pingyuan nodded. “No wonder. He’s Prince Chun’s sixth brother, presumably finding it inconvenient to appear personally, so he has Prince Chun as a front.”

“Prince Chun isn’t stupid either. The Ministry only collects eight thousand taels, but he adds ten thousand more. If the small flower hall fills up, that’s at least several hundred thousand taels—no loss there,” Secretary Hao said mockingly.

“Now we just don’t know what tea the capital merchants will use to claim first place. As you said earlier, the capital merchants don’t control any tea fields producing famous teas,” Gu Pingyuan sighed slowly.

Secretary Hao stretched greatly at the table: “Why worry so much? They put out six million taels—even if they enter a pile of scholar tree leaves, they could still carry home the ‘World’s First Famous Tea’ golden signboard. Let’s not think about it—our silver isn’t even one of their digits. We’ll be lucky if they graciously let us serve them tea.”

Everyone laughed at his humor. Gu Pingyuan was about to say more when he felt someone kick him under the table.

Startled, he looked around the table. Everyone’s expressions were natural except Liu Heita was glaring at him—obviously he had kicked him.

Liu Heita pretended to go relieve himself, tilting his head toward Gu Pingyuan, who had no choice but to follow him out.

By now the sun was setting westward, casting long shadows. Liu Heita walked all the way to the shadows by the side wall outside the inn before stopping. Turning around, he staggered slightly. Gu Pingyuan moved to help but was pushed away.

“Gu… surname Gu,” Liu Heita had been drinking since sitting down and was now drunk, reeking of alcohol with a thick tongue that slurred his words.

“I ask you—will you marry my sister or not?” He pointed at Gu Pingyuan.

Knowing he couldn’t reason with him in this state, Gu Pingyuan reached out to help him back to the inn. Liu Heita was much stronger, instead grabbing his hand and staring at him with bloodshot eyes.

“Today if you don’t explain clearly, don’t leave!”

Gu Pingyuan had no choice: “Brother Hei Ta, what do you want me to say?”

“Just say what’s wrong with my sister that you won’t marry her?”

“Miss Chang is naturally wonderful, but just because I want to marry doesn’t mean she’s willing, does it?” Though knowing Chang Yu’er had feelings for him, she had never spoken a word of it. With Liu Heita insisting on “matchmaking” for his sister, Gu Pingyuan didn’t believe he had Chang Yu’er’s permission.

This question backfired. Gu Pingyuan had thought Liu Heita was just drunk and acting up, but after this question, Liu Heita calmed down. He fumbled for a long time, pulling a paper slip from his inner pocket and handing it to Gu Pingyuan.

Gu Pingyuan took it in surprise—it was a prescription.

“This is the life-saving prescription Dr. Li wrote for you. Look at what the medicine primer is,” Liu Heita said angrily, turning his head aside.

Gu Pingyuan quickly scanned the prescription and saw at the bottom, in obviously different handwriting: “This medicine requires a virgin’s yin-cold body as primer to draw out the patient’s internal heat poison and neutralize it with medicine power.”

“What—what does this mean?” Gu Pingyuan’s mind raced as he looked up at Liu Heita in shock.

Liu Heita gritted his teeth and stamped his foot: “I’ll tell you the truth. This afternoon Father told me about family matters. Do you know that since you left, my sister has tried to kill herself twice!”

“What!” Gu Pingyuan was truly shocked.

“Fortunately she was discovered in time—once by Mrs. Li, once by Father—both saved her. This scared Mrs. Li into watching her constantly. When asked why she wanted to die, she wouldn’t say, just cried with tears flowing from morning to night endlessly. Later Mrs. Li noticed she often clutched a paper slip in her palm. One day when she dozed off, Mrs. Li secretly took it out. Father saw it was a prescription and consulted the doctor at the medicine shop to understand that my sister had used herself as medicine primer to save your life. I thought something was odd—that night we called the doctor to treat you, I saw my sister come out of your room disheveled. You were half-dead with illness then, so I didn’t think much of it. So that’s what happened.”

At this point, Gu Pingyuan understood everything. Despite his intelligence, he was stunned.

“Only then did Father realize Yu’er’s whole heart was with you. Thinking it over with no solution, fearing Yu’er would stay home brooding and fall ill, he decided to bring her along for business. He said it was to avoid Wang Tiangui, but half was really for Yu’er. Who’d have thought we’d meet you so coincidentally in the capital? Look at my sister’s eyes—so pitiful. If we don’t speak clearly this time, Father and I dare not think about the future. Elder Brother Gu, what do we do now?”

What to do? Gu Pingyuan’s head was spinning—he truly didn’t know what to do. Speaking of gratitude to the Chang family, especially Miss Yu’er, he was beyond grateful. Reputation was paramount—she was an unmarried girl who sacrificed her purity to save him, harder than death itself. Thinking of that Miss Yu’er who wasn’t even afraid of charging into Mongol camps attempting suicide for his sake, Gu Pingyuan’s heart ached sharply. But speaking of repayment, only marrying her would suffice. Yet Gu Pingyuan’s heart was entirely with Gu Yimei—he truly couldn’t agree to this.

While Gu Pingyuan’s mind was in turmoil, Liu Heita didn’t care about such things. Seeing him frowning silently for so long, his anger flared higher, and his voice grew louder: “Give me a straight answer! Look how thin my sister has become! This involves a woman’s reputation—truly unspeakable suffering. I figure she came out with Father partly hoping to see you. Elder Brother Gu, you’re a hundred times smarter than me—don’t tell me you really don’t understand?”

“I understand, I understand it all, but… Brother Hei Ta, there’s something I never told you.” Gu Pingyuan had no choice but to reveal Bai Yimei’s situation. “I already have a marriage engagement in Huizhou. Though fate prevents the marriage, I plan to wait for her always. At worst, I’ll never marry in this life…”

Before he finished speaking, they heard a “thud” behind them—someone had collapsed. Both men turned in alarm. In the dim lamplight, they saw Chang Si had fainted.

Chang Si had actually noticed his adopted son’s expression and, seeing Gu and Liu outside for so long without returning, guessed Liu Heita was confronting Gu Pingyuan. Coming to look, he heard exactly those last words. If Gu Pingyuan had someone in mind, what about his daughter? Momentarily overwhelmed with anxiety, he fainted.

Liu Heita sobered up from shock. He and Gu Pingyuan lifted the old man from both sides. Just as they were heading to the inn, Chang Si came to: “Slow… go slowly.”

They stopped. Chang Si looked at Gu Pingyuan, wanting to speak but swallowing his words. He said to Liu Heita: “Help me back to my room.”

Then, not looking at Gu Pingyuan, he said: “Boss Gu, this old man can’t handle liquor well. My apologies—I’ll leave the banquet early.”

“Yes, yes.” Gu Pingyuan felt guilty and didn’t dare look at Chang Si.

After Liu Heita helped his adoptive father inside, Gu Pingyuan stood dazed outside the inn for a long while, finally stamping his foot and sighing deeply: “Alas!”

He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Marriage was no trifling matter—his heart belonged elsewhere, yet that match seemed impossible. Meanwhile, he owed this young lady an enormous debt. Playing ignorant was possible but would be unconscionable—he absolutely couldn’t do that. But if he faced it seriously, there was no solution except marrying Chang Yu’er.

Unable to think clearly what to do, the next day he asked Secretary Hao to check on Chang Si in the west courtyard. Learning the old man was physically fine, he felt half-relieved.