In the sixth month of the tenth year of Wanli’s reign, on a clear day.
At the Luo residence in Nanjing, the morning sunlight slanted across the gray tiles, emanating a particular freshness.
“Mother, you don’t need to see me off. I’ve made plans with Tian He; we’re going to the private school together.” Luo Qinglin, dressed in children’s clothing and clutching a book bag, rushed out of the Luo family mansion. Behind him, Xing Ge, his newly appointed student attendant, hurriedly followed, similarly carrying a book bag and an abacus.
Luo Qinglin was born in the second year of Wanli’s reign, the eldest son of Zhen Niang and Luo Wenqian. Now nine years old, he had just started attending the children’s class at the private school this year. However, since April, several prefectures in Nanzhili have experienced constant heavy rains. Suzhou, Wujiang, Yangzhou, Songjiang, and other areas suffered flooding, destroying over 100,000 qing of crops, submerging 100,000 homes, and drowning 20,000 people.
As a result, the private school had been suspended since the end of April. Today, with the weather finally clearing, classes were resuming. Young Master Lin, who had been confined at home for almost two months, had grown quite restless. How could he wait for Zhen Niang to escort him now? He had already arranged to meet with Tian He, and the two boys, each accompanied by their student attendants, headed off to school.
Lin Guan’er’s attendant, Xing Ge, was twelve years old this year. He was a refugee from the floods who had ended up in Nanjing. His parents and other relatives had all drowned. Luo Wenqian, seeing that he was both steady and clever, and considering that Qinglin needed someone to accompany him to private school, decided to keep him on as Lin Guan’er’s attendant.
Tian He was the eldest son of Tian Benchang and Sun Yuejuan, a year older than Lin Guan’er. The two were classmates at the private school, coming from similar family backgrounds, and often played together.
By the time Zhen Niang chased after them, Lin Guan’er had already vanished like smoke.
“Little rascal,” Zhen Niang muttered irritably, but let it be. The private school that Lin Guan’er attended was run by the merchant association and wasn’t far from here.
“Mother, I want to go to school too!” At this moment, a childish voice called out. A small figure ran over like a cannonball and hugged Zhen Niang’s leg.
“Oh, my little ancestor, don’t run! Come and put your clothes on properly. Be careful not to catch a cold!” Sister Liu Jin hurriedly followed, holding a water-red jacket in her hands.
The little girl was Zhen Niang and Luo Wenqian’s daughter, Luo Jingyu, five years old this year. Both Jingyu and Qinglin’s names came from ink classifications—Ugly Po had simply used ink names when naming them, which actually turned out quite nice.
“Have you thought it through? Going to school means copying books and writing characters. If you don’t copy well or write well, you’ll get the paddle,” Zhen Niang held Yu Jie’er’s hand, her face serious but with upturned corners of her mouth. In her heart, she counted: one, two, three.
Sure enough, barely reaching three counts, little Jingyu shook her head vigorously: “Then I won’t study yet; I’m still small.” Her tiny face was very solemn, but in her heart, she was thinking that copying books seemed very tiring—her big brother had said so—and she’d rather not be tired.
Knowing this little clever one’s ways, Zhen Niang shook her head and was about to carry the little girl back inside.
“Zhen Niang, the Fang family’s Ink Manual is out,” Just then, Luo Wenqian, wearing cyan robes and black cloth shoes, came in slowly carrying a book. He had made his rounds of various shops early this morning, as was his routine.
After ten years of development and with Zhang Juzheng’s support, Luo Ji had become a force to be reckoned with in Nanjing’s business circles.
He and Tian Benchang were jointly known as the Twin Dragons of the Huizhou merchant world.
After the Tian family’s decline, Tian Benchang single-handedly supported their traditional timber business. Combined with the overseas connections of Sun Yuejuan’s two older brothers through Wang Cuiqiao, he had secured a share of the Annam rosewood trade.
The current Great Ming was an era pursuing luxury, and rosewood was in high demand, allowing Tian Benchang to catch a favorable tide. Along with his share in foreign goods, the current Tian family was even more prosperous than before.
“The Fang family’s Ink Manual is out already? Let me see.” Upon hearing about the manual, Zhen Niang’s eyes lit up, and she held out her hands.
Luo Wenqian smiled lightly as he placed the Fang family’s Ink Manual in Zhen Niang’s hands, then took Yu Jie’er. Upon seeing her father, Yu Jie’er immediately clapped happily: “Father, carry Yu Jie’er!”
“Alright!” Luo Wenqian laughed heartily, lifted her with both hands and set her on his shoulders. The little girl held onto Luo Wenqian’s head, sitting steadily as her tiger-head shoes swayed back and forth, thoroughly enjoying herself.
“Come down now, where are your manners?” Zhen Niang grew annoyed, furrowing her brows. Their daughter loved to play, and as a father, he had no sense of propriety—a troublesome pair.
At this moment, father and daughter both made faces, and then Yu Jie’er giggling came down and was led by Sister Liu Jin to eat breakfast.
Only then did Zhen Niang begin leafing through the Fang family’s Ink Manual.
Her Li family’s Ink Manual was published in the third year of Wanli, with initial releases in Huizhou and Nanjing. The ink manual review had been written by Sun Kehong. Initially, Zhen Niang had worried he wouldn’t agree, but coincidentally, it was Sun Kehong’s father’s sixtieth birthday, and Zhen Niang had sent a longevity ink stick as a gift. Thus, the matter of writing the ink manual review came about naturally.
Of course, Master Sun wasn’t coveting Zhen Niang’s ink stick. Rather, because Old Master Li had given his life to create the world’s finest ink, and the Li family’s Seventh Madam had even sacrificed herself to perish together with the Japanese pirates, he held a special respect for the Li family. He was quite pleased to write the ink manual review.
When the Li family’s Ink Manual was published, paper prices soared in both Huizhou and Nanjing.
In summary, Li Ink was unrivaled in fame in the third year of Wanli. Following this, the Fang and Cheng families exerted themselves. In the next year’s tribute ink competition, the Li family was defeated, and the tribute ink rights fell to Fang Ink. Thereafter, Fang ink rose to prominence, which seemed to have provoked Cheng ink, and now the rivalry between the Fang and Cheng families had taken on the flavor of mortal combat.
Zhen Niang knew that ever since the Li family’s Ink Manual was published, Fang Da had been preparing the Fang family’s Ink Manual.
However, the Fang family’s Ink Manual that Brother Luo brought wasn’t the final draft. Compared to the later version of the Fang family’s Ink Manual, it was missing quite a bit of content. Zhen Niang knew that the complete version of the Fang family’s Ink Manual should be officially published around the sixteenth year of Wanli.
“This isn’t the final draft, is it?” Zhen Niang looked up and asked Luo Wenqian.
“Mm, Fang Da said to let you look at it first and help write the ink review,” Luo Wenqian said with a smile. Back then, the Li family’s manual had also invited Fang Da to write an ink review.
“What do you mean help? Don’t you have shares in Fang ink too?” Zhen Niang smiled.
“Indeed, it’s considered our own business too.” Luo Wenqian laughed heartily. His dividends from Fang ink these past few years had been substantial.
Zhen Niang swatted him once, then rubbed her brow, saying she hadn’t slept well last night and had a bit of a headache.
“What’s wrong? Have you had something on your mind lately?” Luo Wenqian couldn’t help but embrace Zhen Niang as they went inside to sit down. He helped her into a chair and poured her a cup of hot tea.
These past few months, Zhen Niang seemed to often have trouble sleeping deeply. Her originally smooth face had grown somewhat pale, and Luo Wenqian was worried.
“Mm. I heard Master Zhang’s health is very poor, and he often coughs up blood?” Zhen Niang held the hot tea and took a sip, her thoughts drifting to this matter again.
Recently, Zhen Niang’s thoughts had often been unsettled. It was now the sixth month of the tenth year of Wanli, and it seemed Zhang Juzheng would pass away this month, though she couldn’t remember the exact day.
What impact Zhang Juzheng’s passing would have on their family was an unknown that left Zhen Niang’s heart in turmoil.
“Zhen Niang, you’re thinking too much. It’s not good for your health. I’m very worried.” Luo Wenqian gently kissed Zhen Niang’s temple. Her thoughts were too heavy. Thinking too much wasn’t good.
After experiencing the Luo family’s decline, Luo Wenqian viewed these matters very openly. Let alone that Master Zhang was still fine now, even if something happened, he, Luo Wenqian, had built his foundation over many years. Taking it a step further, even if this business empire he had created collapsed, so what?
Back then, he, Luo Wenqian, had ventured north alone and earned this vast enterprise. Even if he had to start over, he wasn’t afraid. Of course, if starting over, he might not necessarily choose this path again.
People’s mindsets are different at different stages of life.
“Mm, I’m overthinking things. I won’t think about it anymore.” Seeing Luo Wenqian’s worried expression, Zhen Niang couldn’t help but reach out to touch his face, smiling gently. She didn’t want Brother Luo to worry about her. Besides, she had made what preparations she could these past few years. There wasn’t much she could do. By now, it was simply a matter of dealing with things as they came.
Thinking further, sometimes knowing certain outcomes in advance wasn’t necessarily good; instead, it could make one paranoid and overcautious.
“Ninth Master, Madam, Qingchun Tower has sent an invitation,” At this moment, Li Shan came in, set down the invitation, and withdrew.
“What kind of invitation did Qingchun Tower send?” Zhen Niang asked curiously, leaning against the table as she opened the invitation to look. It turned out to be an invitation to the debut banquet of Miss Liu Susu from Qingchun Tower.
The brothels in Nanjing often sought out girls between eight and twelve years old and then had their popular courtesans mentor them. When they first hung up their placard, it was called their debut. Of course, these girls were all promoted as top courtesans, generally selling art rather than their bodies.
A newly debuting courtesan had no reputation and needed patronage. Thus, on the day of the debut, the brothel madam would distribute many invitations, inviting people to attend and introduce her to everyone. This was called the debut banquet.
Luo Wenqian received many such invitations each year, but he never attended.
However, this invitation was interesting because it was addressed to the Ninth Master Luo and his wife.
“This is the first time I’ve received such an invitation.” Zhen Niang raised her eyebrows. Luo Wenqian, supporting Zhen Niang’s waist, leaned in to look at the invitation in her hand and couldn’t help but laugh: “Ha, this is asking you to donate money. You ladies have quite a bit of private funds; it seems our prefect has taken notice.”
As he spoke, Luo Wenqian pointed to a line on the back of the invitation: “All funds contributed at this debut banquet will be donated to the Yingtian Charitable Hall to aid disaster victims.” Speaking thus, Luo Wenqian extended his knuckled index finger to point at a seal on the back of the invitation—the seal of the Yingtian Prefecture Charitable Hall.
This meant that Liu Susu’s debut banquet at Qingchun Tower had the support of the Yingtian Prefecture.
Zhen Niang glared: “Pah if I want to donate money, couldn’t I just go to the charitable hall myself? Why should I spend money to buy a courtesan’s debut banquet when I don’t even want her company for drinks?”
“That’s why these debut banquets never invited the ladies of various households before. But this time, it’s for donating to disaster victims. Madam Luo, if you don’t go, people will have something to gossip about later,” Luo Wenqian found Zhen Niang’s words amusing and laughed heartily.
“So you’re saying I have no choice but to go?” Zhen Niang said with slight annoyance, waving the invitation.
“Mm, no choice,” Luo Wenqian said with a smile.
“Why do I feel like you’re up to something?” Zhen Niang looked somewhat suspiciously at Luo Wenqian’s upturned mouth corners, which suggested ulterior motives.
“Nothing much, there might be some entertainment to watch. This Miss Liu Susu has some connection to Tian Benchang,” Luo Wenqian said, taking a sip of hot tea. Meanwhile, little Yu Jie’er, having finished breakfast, came bouncing over, circling Luo Wenqian and Li Zhen Niang.
Seeing her parents absorbed in conversation and ignoring her, she pouted and called for Ugly Po to accompany her in catching butterflies.
Ugly Po, tending to flowers and plants in the courtyard, mumbled unclearly: “Ugly Po can’t chase anymore.”
Ugly Po was seventy-three this year.