“General Gusha, arriving late means you’ll have to drink a penalty cup!” Zhang Yuehui was quite familiar with Gusha as well, naturally inviting him in.

Seeing that everyone’s faces looked somewhat tense, he feigned distress: “Oh my, blame me for this. I thought that all you distinguished gentlemen work for the Great Qi Royal Court and are also major clients of my trading company, so I took the liberty of inviting everyone to drink together—I haven’t delayed any important matters for you gentlemen, have I?”

“Of course not,” Wanyan Jun’s expression remained unchanged. “I originally thought General Gusha was too busy with military camp affairs to get away, so I didn’t call him. That was my oversight.”

Regardless of whether they were privately on the same side, they still had to maintain the facade of unity when facing outsiders.

“Indeed, if I had known earlier that Lord Wanyan was also Young Master Zhang’s guest, then I could have just heard secondhand news from you and saved myself that unnecessary expense!” Gusha also chimed in.

As they spoke, everyone had already taken their seats. According to status, Wanyan Jun naturally sat in the place of honor.

Copper bells chimed in the elegant chamber as attendants filed in one after another, carrying pots and cups, opening an elaborate feast.

Clearly everyone wanted to win over Zhang Yuehui, this intelligence broker, so no one could possibly want to actually hear secondhand news.

Secondhand news meant losing the initiative—everything would become passive.

Gusha was the most impatient, eloquently talking during the meal about his friendship with Zhang Yuehui. It turned out he had long been spending heavily to buy intelligence from Zhang Yuehui. Qiao Yinzhi had originally been Zhang Yuehui’s person, but this connection was “sold” to Gusha.

A spy in this chaotic world couldn’t even control her own allegiance, being traded from hand to hand several times.

Gusha raised his cup: “I must thank Young Master Queshan for his help in getting Lady Qiao released from Wangxue Stronghold. Now she stays by my side to work—after all, she’s someone familiar with the Xie family and Li Du Mansion, so she’ll be useful in the future.”

Xie Queshan smiled as he raised his wine cup and drained it, his gaze contemplative behind the cup.

When he let Qiao Yinzhi go, he hadn’t asked where she would end up. With her blood relatives in Gusha’s hands, she naturally couldn’t flee too far. Returning to Gusha’s side was actually a safe place for her—this was understandable.

Only now did he realize that the source of this intelligence network was Zhang Yuehui… A young businessman who could manipulate situations with such ease, controlling such a vast intelligence network—his influence was truly formidable.

This couldn’t be built from nothing. The remaining possibilities were either backing from powerful benefactors or inherited family wealth.

Xie Queshan suddenly thought of something.

“Boss Zhang, I wonder if you have any connection with the Zhang clan of Guanyang?” Xie Queshan asked unexpectedly.

Hearing this, Zhang Yuehui smiled, though his eyes took on a colder cast: “After the Jingchun Incident, the Zhang clan of Guanyang was held responsible for inadequate grain transport and the entire family was executed. As for me, I happened to have quarreled with my father and left the household, barely escaping disaster.”

The atmosphere at the banquet grew tense.

The Jingchun Incident—Xie Queshan’s defection, the fall of Youdu Prefecture. The imperial court had to find someone to blame for this affair, so they scapegoated the Zhang clan, claiming that if they hadn’t been slow with support, the front lines wouldn’t have been driven to betray and surrender to the enemy.

But why didn’t they dare transport those grain supplies? Wasn’t it because the imperial court itself was indecisive?

But how could there be fault with the Son of Heaven? There was only the ministers’ lack of dedication.

A speck of dust fell, and the world gained another orphan of these chaotic times.

Yet this orphan didn’t quietly die in some corner of the world, but instead built from nothing to become the Yu Dynasty’s current largest black market boss.

Zhang Yuehui’s words sounded like he was casually discussing an ordinary matter, but they contained hidden barbs. The chief culprit of the Jingchun Incident was Xie Queshan—how could he possibly harbor no enmity?

But after just a moment of tension, Zhang Yuehui himself burst into carefree laughter: “But my old man had a violent temper, was unreasonable, and never liked the look of me since I was small. Thanks to you, his death was actually good—no one controls me anymore.”

Heartless and contrary to filial propriety.

Wanyan Jun also laughed heartily: “So you two have a history! Then you must drink a proper toast together. If it weren’t for Young Master Queshan abandoning darkness for light back then, how could Boss Zhang have built such a great enterprise?”

Zhang Yuehui immediately raised his wine cup: “Young Master Queshan, I toast you—to your wise decision that gave us nameless people a way out.”

“How dare I claim credit? We’re all working for the Great Qi Royal Court. In the future, I’ll have to rely heavily on Boss Zhang’s enterprise.”

Every sentence was sarcastic, each harboring their own ulterior motives.

The several men at the table laughed heartily as they raised their cups together.

Gusha said: “Brother Zhang here sells all kinds of intelligence. With his assistance, everything becomes twice as effective with half the effort.”

“I dare not claim to have all intelligence, but it does cover everything under the sun. Within my capabilities, whatever you want to know, as long as you pay enough money, we’ll find it out for you.”

“Then no matter who it is, as long as they have money, they can buy information from Boss Zhang?” Xie Queshan suddenly asked.

This question truly made the scene turn cold.

Zhang Yuehui smiled seamlessly: “In my Guilai Hall, there are no Qi people or Han people—only customers. Of course, if someone pays enough money, they could also buy exclusive access to all information. That would depend on whether the bosses think highly enough of me, Zhang.”

Xie Queshan laughed inwardly. This Zhang Yuehui appeared to be a wastrel, greeting everyone with smiles, indulging in wine, women, wealth, and pleasure, but he actually knew how to hide daggers behind smiles and needles in silk.

Someone so shrewd—how could he not know that Gusha and Wanyan Jun each had their own agenda? Yet he deliberately called these two to the same table, speaking falsely about cooperation and unity.

Throughout this entire meal, everyone was led around by Zhang Yuehui’s nose.

He didn’t take anyone’s side. No matter how much fine wine went down their throats, they couldn’t win Zhang Yuehui’s loyalty. He wasn’t anyone’s retainer, but the master of Guilai Hall.

Whether you were Wanyan Jun or Gusha, with overwhelming power or crushing military force, none of it worked on him.

His ambitions definitely weren’t limited to being a merchant and earning some wealth—what exactly was he after?

“Then I wonder if Boss Zhang has intelligence about my third uncle Xie Zhu? General Wanyan has been extremely worried about the Department of Naval Affairs,” Xie Queshan continued probing.

Zhang Yuehui smiled: “That’s expensive. I wonder if Young Master Queshan is willing to spend that money.”

“I’d hate to waste money on nothing.”

“I understand,” Zhang Yuehui relaxed completely. “Business relies on trust after all. Since I feel a connection with Young Master Queshan today, let me give you a piece of intelligence as a gift to make friends—but in the future, you must give me the big business deals.”

“Oh?” Xie Queshan set down his wine cup, listening attentively.

“Your second sister, Madam Gantang, suddenly returned to Li Du Mansion—doesn’t Young Master Queshan find that suspicious?”

“Second sister came back to mourn and incidentally spend New Year with her natal family. What’s suspicious about that?”

“Yucheng City fell last month and Marquis Pingnan surrendered, yet his wife Madam Gantang escaped the city in the dead of night with an elite Yucheng Army unit… But now only Madam Gantang has entered Li Du Mansion. Where is that Yucheng Army?”

Xie Queshan felt somewhat alarmed.

When Yucheng was occupied by the Qi people, intelligence from the front lines had naturally been sent back, but there was no mention of Madam Gantang at all. Xie Queshan had originally guessed that perhaps his second sister had left the city just in time, luckily avoiding disaster. Or perhaps Marquis Pingnan had secretly and safely sent his wife and children out of the city without letting the Qi people know.

His people sent to investigate hadn’t returned yet, but Zhang Yuehui already knew.

This person was not to be underestimated.

“If that military unit is hidden near Li Du Mansion, it would be detrimental to our future operations,” Gusha frowned, his tone revealing some ruthlessness. “Your second sister…”

Xie Queshan looked up without courtesy, his eyes blazing with killing intent: “I still bear the surname Xie.”

Having reached this point, the wine no longer tasted pleasant. Even with Wanyan Jun present, Xie Queshan still showed his temper and rose to take his leave.

“I’ll handle this matter myself. Don’t meddle too much or reach your hands toward my family’s womenfolk.”

…

The banquet ended unpleasantly, leaving only scattered cups and dishes in the elegant chamber.

Zhang Yuehui sat alone at the table, casually picking up the wine pot and drinking cup after cup.

With some intoxication setting in, accompanied by the sound of strings and bamboo instruments, he sang softly: “Don’t return home before growing old, for returning home will break your heart…”

The habitual smile on his face had disappeared at some point.

He swayed as he stood up and pushed open the window. Cold wind mixed with snow pellets struck his face, then melted on his warm cheeks.

In the lonely night, traces between heaven and earth were instantly swallowed up.

He somewhat envied Xie Queshan—even this minister reviled by the world for betraying his country still had his family.

But him? He had nothing left except schemes written on paper.

He suddenly thought of that girl, the young woman he had lost—where might she be now?