On the third day of the Lunar New Year, as expected, Li Chunhua, the eldest daughter of the Sixth Uncle’s family, returned home with her husband Yao Qianshan. This was another joyous occasion that brought several branches of the Li family together for celebration.

Naturally, the conversation turned to Yao Qianshan’s plans. The Li family subtly suggested that if Yao Qianshan had no other arrangements, he might consider purchasing an official title.

Of course, such matters were discussed with discretion, being mindful of face-saving considerations. Having served as a legal advisor for over a decade, Yao Qianshan was well-versed in negotiating such exchanges of interests. He was pragmatic about such matters and didn’t consider it a loss of face.

However, he had his plans for this visit. Having studied the eight-legged essay for decades, he felt reluctant to simply purchase an official title with silver.

“Elder Madam,” he said, “I intend to participate in this year’s provincial examinations. If I succeed, I will proceed to the capital for the metropolitan examination. Should I achieve the jinshi degree, that would be ideal. If not, I would then trouble Elder Madam to help arrange matters for me.”

Yao Qianshan’s proposal was reasonable. Everything would depend on him passing the provincial examination first, and then attempting the metropolitan examination. If he could achieve the jinshi degree, he would receive an official appointment from the court. Even then, he would still need the Li family ink workshop’s support for various arrangements, but this way, his debt to the Li family would be less, and he would maintain more autonomy.

However, if he failed to achieve the jinshi degree, a provincial graduate seeking office would need financial backing. As Yao Qianshan came from humble origins, he would inevitably need the Li family’s support, thus binding him completely to their interests.

“What if you don’t pass the provincial examination?” Li Jingdong from the Ninth Branch asked.

“If I fail the provincial examination, I’ll abandon thoughts of becoming a provincial or metropolitan graduate. I’ll continue as a private tutor, perhaps helping to educate talent for the Li family. In that case, I would advise Elder Madam not to pursue civil positions, but rather purchase military positions for the clan’s younger generation. Although civil officials traditionally outrank military ones, these times are growing increasingly chaotic, with the Tartars causing havoc. While military positions may seem inferior, no one dares to underestimate them nowadays,” Yao Qianshan replied calmly.

If he failed the provincial examination, purchasing degrees from scholar to provincial graduate and then an official position would be not only expensive but also meaningless unless one was willing to become corrupt and go along with court misconduct. It would be better to remain a legal advisor.

An expert reveals their skill at first touch. Having spent over a decade in officialdom with his master, particularly in Shanxi where many areas had suffered from Tartar raids recently, Yao Qianshan saw things.

The Li family members exchanged glances and nodded. Yao Qianshan’s plans were reasonable, and regarding military positions, the Li family had suitable candidates. The ink-making business alone required physical strength, so purchasing military positions for their clan members was indeed a good option.

Thus, they had a general direction, with details to be worked out later.

The conversation then turned to matters concerning the return to Nanjing. After the New Year, Zhenniang would need to return to Nanjing, as Imperial Consort Shen’s birthday was approaching. The birthday ink gifts needed to be delivered promptly. These special edition inks were produced in small quantities but required extremely high standards, from carving the molds to the final gold detailing and line work. The process was labor-intensive, from gathering materials to the air-drying period. The Li family applied the same standards used for imperial ink production. Fortunately, Imperial Consort Shen’s birthday was in the second month, and over the four months since late autumn, the Li family had meticulously completed all the birthday ink sets.

Zhenniang needed to deliver the ink upon her return. Such matters were better handled early, so she would depart for Nanjing on the fifth day of the New Year, much to Madam Zhao’s reluctance to part.

Li Jingfu mentioned that he also needed to go to Nanjing after the New Year, saying that some people from the Qin family would be there.

Immediately, Madam Zhao, concerned for her daughter, decided that Li Jingfu should travel together with Zhenniang on the fifth day.

After settling the ink matters, they discussed various family businesses: the Sixth Branch’s farmland, the Ninth Branch’s joint venture with the Zhao family in the Wuyuan inkstone mines, and the Eighth Branch’s oil press.

“You know, when Zhenniang initially acquired that pine field from the Tian family and planted tung oil trees, the yield is finally starting to show. It’s just unfortunate that tung oil prices have been falling lately. Otherwise, just selling tung seeds alone would provide substantial income for the ink workshop,” Uncle Jingdong remarked with a slight smile. He usually maintained a stern expression, so this hint of a smile indicated his good mood.

The tung oil tree seeds from the pine field belonged to the ink workshop, while the oil press belonged to the Eighth Branch. As close brothers kept clear accounts, the Eighth Branch purchased the Li family ink workshop’s tung seeds at market price for oil pressing, and the ink workshop bought tung oil from the Eighth Branch at market price as well. That’s why Uncle Jingdong made such a comment.

“How so? Are tung oil prices still falling?” Zhenniang looked at her eldest brother and asked.

“Yes, since the pine plague outbreak two years ago, many areas started growing tung oil trees. These trees can produce yields within nine months. In the first two years, as production was just beginning, volumes were relatively small, so although tung oil prices fell, the decline wasn’t too severe. But starting this year, it’s the third year of production, and tung seed yield is entering its peak period. Therefore, I fear that once spring arrives, tung oil prices will plummet,” Elder Brother Li explained worriedly.

Speaking of which, the oil press had been struggling since he took over. Due to the previous tung oil poisoning incident, no one would buy edible oil from his press anymore, so they could only produce industrial tung oil. However, tung oil prices had remained poor, and with money lender loans to repay plus compensation for the poisoning victims, if not for the Li family ink workshop’s oil consumption and establishing connections with Master Qin, the oil press would have been difficult to sustain.

Previously, all the money he earned from the inkstone quarry had been invested in the oil press.

“Brother, if that’s the case, why not consider buying large quantities of tung seeds and oil when spring comes?” Zhenniang suggested after some thought.

“Why?” Li Elder Brother asked with confusion. Normally, Zhenniang’s suggestion would seem unreliable and should be immediately rejected. Tung oil prices had been falling continuously, and although Master Qin had agreed to purchase their goods, it wasn’t unlimited but rather a fixed quota. After all, Master Qin had a decades-long relationship with the Bai family, and even though the Bai family had some issues, they had forcefully taken a share from the Li family, so they would show some restraint. Thus, Master Qin would still reserve some quota for the Bai family. If they followed Zhenniang’s suggestion to buy tung seeds, wouldn’t they end up with large quantities of unsold tung oil?

This seemed unreasonable.

However, despite these thoughts, Li’s Elder Brother still wanted to hear Zhenniang’s reasoning carefully. After all, since the stove coal business, every venture Zhenniang had pointed out had been profitable, especially the Wuyuan trip. Therefore, Li’s Elder Brother understood his sister well – she was very shrewd and wouldn’t engage in loss-making ventures. That’s why he asked.

“Brother, Master Zigong once said that the way of commerce has five characters and two phrases. The five characters are: ‘Scarcity creates value.’ The two phrases are: ‘Take what others abandon’ and ‘Give what others desire.’ Precisely because everyone is pessimistic about tung oil, that’s why we should buy it,” Zhenniang explained.

“Zhenniang, ‘taking what others abandon’ makes sense, but this time the fall in tung oil prices is genuinely due to a sharp increase in supply. In such situations, prices usually remain at a low level for quite some time. Large-scale purchasing at this point isn’t very appropriate,” Li’s Elder Brother said.

Since the coal stove business, Li Elder Brother had been in commerce for several years and understood these principles, though the situations were different.

“Yes, that would be the case normally, but what if the imperial court lifts the maritime trade ban?” Zhenniang countered.

“What? Is the imperial court going to lift the maritime ban?” At this point, Elder Madam Li became somewhat agitated, her voice rising slightly as she asked. If true, once the ban was lifted, it would revitalize commerce throughout the entire Ming Dynasty. At that time, not just tung oil but their ink business would also enter a golden age. The two oceans’ regions highly valued Hui ink, and according to family records, when Admiral Zheng He sailed to the Western Oceans, all the stored ink in Huizhou sold out, and every ink workshop made substantial profits. That prosperous scene was something to aspire to.

However, rumors about lifting the ban had circulated for a long time, but each time it was all thunder with little rain, and eventually, people stopped thinking about it.

“I can’t be certain, but there are such rumors, and with the new emperor ascending the throne, he’s bound to want to make some changes. We might as well wait and see,” Zhenniang said to her Seventh Grandmother.

Emperor Longqing had been cautious for over twenty years, and personality-wise, he wasn’t a strong emperor. According to rumors, his desire to lift the ban immediately upon ascending the throne was purely out of desperation – poverty. Reportedly, when he first took the throne and wanted to buy some jewelry for his consorts in the palace, not only did the Ministry of Revenue ignore him, but court officials also submitted memorial after memorial criticizing him, leaving him extremely frustrated.

That’s why he thought of lifting the ban, to collect more taxes for palace expenses.

Of course, this was just hearsay, and the actual reasons for lifting the ban weren’t likely so simple. Zhenniang believed that lifting the maritime ban was probably a collective demand from various interest groups, given the enormous profits involved.

Naturally, Zhenniang couldn’t concern herself with these reasons. She only knew that shortly after the new emperor’s ascension, the topic of lifting the ban had been raised again, and this time it wasn’t just empty talk but seemed likely to happen.

Therefore, Zhenniang mentioned these rumors, as she was now in Nanjing and held an appointment at the Princess’s mansion. Such rumors coming from her would carry some credibility. Moreover, she had originally intended to suggest to her Seventh Grandmother that the Huizhou ink workshop should add several more workshops this year to increase production.

This way, when the maritime ban was lifted, Hui ink would be a bestselling commodity. With the lifting of the ban as justification, she thought her Seventh Grandmother, being a risk-taker, would agree. After all, both tung oil and ink could be stored, so even if the ban wasn’t lifted, the losses wouldn’t be too severe. Although capital would be tied up, it wouldn’t be fatal.

“Yes, the calls for lifting the ban have been growing stronger in recent years. Besides the maritime ban, the Mongolian Altan Khan causes trouble every year, forcing the court to open border trade,” Yao Qianshan said gravely at this point.

Hearing Aunt Chunhua’s husband’s words, Zhenniang recalled that in the later years of Longqing’s reign, they did indeed reach an agreement with the Mongolian Tatar tribe for mutual tribute and trade, opening border region markets.

However, these matters were beyond Zhenniang’s concern. Still, Yao Qianshan’s statement made the rumors more convincing.

“Well, let’s wait and see. It’s always good to make some preparations,” Elder Madam Li said decisively. The Li ink workshop would expand production in the coming spring.

Originally, after Zhenniang secured the birthday ink order from the Princess’s mansion, Elder Madam Li had already planned this. But if the ban was to be lifted, they would need to add even more workshops and recruit more people. Notably, since the pine plague, many small ink workshops in Huizhou had closed down, so skilled workers would be easy to find.

“Then sister, since tung oil prices are low now, besides Master Qin’s quota, we’ll hold onto the rest. I’ll try to raise some more capital to buy when prices are low,” Li’s Elder Brother said at this point. After several years in business, Li Elder Brother had learned some commercial principles. Sometimes you had to take risks, as opportunities were fleeting.

“Yes, brother, don’t force it, just do what you can. The Li family has that large tung oil tree plantation, plus your oil press. When tung oil prices rise, we’ll make a good profit even without buying more,” Zhenniang said with a smile.

“I understand, don’t worry, sister,” Li’s Elder Brother nodded.

Thus, the Li family’s development direction for the new year was set.